May 19, 1999

One minute, tick tock tick tock...

I tried not to mind the ticking noise. I looked at the open compartment full of wires. I looked at the bomb countdown. I had to, only forty-five seconds left.

The ticking of the bomb distracted me. My hands started to sweat. I knew I had to act fast.

May: C'mon Harlan... almost there...

I looked at May and gave her a face that asked her politely to shut up. I needed to concentrate, ok?

I looked back at the bomb. Thirty seconds.

Now or never. "Screw it" I thought... What was it in the movies? Cut the red wire?

I cut the red wire.

The machine buzzed and I jumped. I wasn't sure if I preferred the buzzing over a real explosion. Everyone in the pub looked at me and May as if we... I don't know, like we did something bad. Really bad.

Harlan: Nothing... nothing here. Get back to your drinks.

The people eyed us suspiciously before going back to their drinks. May patted me on the back before laughing. Each laugh, a pat harder.

May: HOLY SHIT HARLAN! HAHAHA! HOLY SHIT!

I rolled my eyes and took a drink from my pint of beer.

May: Hey, another round please!

The bartender gave her a thumbs up and May sat back down and waited for her drink.

I looked at May and she smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, it was her hiding-a-laughter smile.

Harlan: Oh shut up.

May: Tell me... how many times are you gonna keep losing Brandle?

Harlan: Excuse me?

May: Whenever we make bets, you always seem to lose. Do you enjoy losing THAT much?

Harlan: Hey hey hey... I do win.

May: Oh yeah... when was the last time?

Honestly, until now... I don't know. May read it on my face and kept laughing.

May: You know... we've been friends... three years?

Harlan: Around four.

May: You know... I'm starting to think that the number of times I've won in a bet against you actually outnumbers the number of days we were friends.

I rolled my eyes as the bartender came and gave May her glass of scotch.

Harlan: Tell you what... um...

I signaled the bartender and asked for a pen and paper. I opened the pen and started writing.

Harlan: UEFA finals tonight, time for final bets. You sure you still wanna go for Bayern?

May: Oh we're gonna take home that trophy. After whooping your English arse of course.

Harlan: Ass.

May looked at me. Yeah I understood why.

May: Excuse me?

Harlan: Ass. It's ass not arse.

May: Well... when in Britain... Arse.

Harlan: Whatever. Loser has to take the winner out for drinks after... unlimited rounds. Deal?

I wrote on the paper the details of our bet. I looked at her as she drank her new glass of scotch, probably to act like she's thinking (but really to hide her hesitation). Eventually, she put down her glass, and I handed her the pen for her to sign.