Girls Fall Down by Maggie Helwig

you were okay. But I wasn’t sure.’
    â€˜I know. I mean … What about you?’
    â€˜I … I’m fine now.’ He looked down at his own hands, fidgeting with the cutlery, and couldn’t think for a while what should come next.
    â€˜You know, hands are very interesting things,’ he said finally.
    â€˜You’re still a pothead, aren’t you?’ said Susie. And this at last was something he could laugh at, unforced.
    â€˜Really not. I’m just like this all by myself, as it turns out.’
    â€˜That’s gotta save some money.’
    â€˜I spend it all on tofu.’ But while he had been looking at his hands he’d also looked at his watch, and time was pressing in on him again, the handful of hours left in the evening. ‘Listen, Susie, Suzanne, I’m sorry about this, but I should go. Let me get the check?’
    â€˜Oh. All right.’ Her face tensed slightly, a small nod as if she were accepting the blame for this. Understanding that it had been her fault.
    â€˜I’m sorry, it’s not … I just have this thing … ’
    â€˜You’re meeting someone?’
    He wished he could say he was, it was the right excuse, free of hurt or judgement. ‘Not exactly. It’s … I need to take some photos. I mean, it’s a regular thing I do, after work I go out and … it’s a sort of project. I don’t like to – I know this sounds compulsive, but I don’t like to miss a night.’
    â€˜In this?’ She gestured towards the window, and he turned and saw that winter had abruptly fallen, as shockingly as it did each year, the first sudden storm. Against the darkness, the wind was driving sheets of snow in a slanting diagonal blur, pedestrians slipping in their inappropriate shoes.
    â€˜Oh, fuck,’ muttered Alex, brought up against the inevitable wall of Canadian weather.
    â€˜Are you on a deadline?’ asked Susie.
    â€˜No. No, it’s not an assignment, it’s a personal thing.’ He folded his arms and frowned. ‘I could do the PATH system. I’m going to have to think about the weather long-term, but right now I could do the PATH system.’
    â€˜You really think you have to do this?’
    â€˜I really do.’
    She caught the waiter’s eye and gestured for the check. ‘I could come with you.’
    â€˜What? You think I’m going to die underground in the blizzard?’
    â€˜I’d just like to come. See what you’re doing. If it’s all right.’
    He took the check from the waiter and reached for his wallet. No one ever came with him. It wasn’t the way he did this.
    â€˜I guess so. If you really want to.’
    They stood up on the subway, their hair beaded with snow after the short walk up Bathurst, neither of them able to accept the tight physical proximity of the narrow seats, appropriate only for close friends or complete strangers. Discarded newspapers lay scattered around the car, under the feet of dripping passengers, repeatedly and monotonously predicting millions of influenza deaths. Alex thought of telling Susie about his encounter with the girls and their poison gas, but decided against it; he was tired of the story already.
    There was a wet draft of wind on the subway platform, crowds wandering up and down the stairs, but they pushed through the turn-stiles and opened the glass doors into a warm corridor with ivory-white walls that was nearly deserted, one man in a dark suit crossing a corner in the distance. The stores to the left were closed, metal grilles pulled down.
    â€˜Isn’t this a funny time to be coming down here? I mean, there’s nothing going on here at night, is there?’ Susie unbuttoned her coat and tucked her soft red hat into her pocket.
    â€˜Well, that’s the trick, I guess,’ said Alex, opening his camera bag. ‘I make decisions and I stick with them, it’s one of the rules. But