I’m still sitting on this wall, the brick chill cutting through my jeans. I take a swig of beer, wipe the condensation from my hand onto the dark denim, watch the smoke from my cigarette curl into the dark woods before disappearing into the sky. I am aware of the club behind me in the same way that I am aware of the seven foot drop under my dangling feet; it’s there but I’m not going to fall.

我依旧坐在这堵墙上，砖块散发的寒意刺穿我的牛仔裤。我喝下一大口啤酒，将凝结在手上的啤酒珠蹭到深色牛仔布上，看着自己吐出的烟雾在空中盘旋，然后进入漆黑的树林，消失在夜空里。我意识到我身后的夜总会中的人们对我的感受，就如同我感受我悬空的脚下七英尺的高度；危险是危险，但我不会掉下去。

Footsteps on the patio behind me. It’s probably just another couple come to take advantage of one of the picnic tables. I place my beer down on the wall next to me ignoring them with a forceful drag on the cigarette. I don’t smoke.

我身后的露台上传来一阵脚步声。可能只是另一对夫妇来占一张野餐桌。我把啤酒罐放在我身边的墙头上，用力地吸了一口烟。我其实不吸烟。

She’s suddenly there, on the wall with me, and for a moment I’m afraid she has upset the beer can, precariously balanced on the old, crumbly bricks. But no, there it is, safe on my other side. We sit in silence for a moment as she contemplates her intertwined fingers and I continue to watch the dark woods in front of me. I finish my cigarette, stub it out, light another. I don’t smoke.

她突然出现在我身旁的墙头上。片刻间，我有点儿担心她会弄翻我的啤酒罐，要知道啤酒罐放在这堵老旧且墙砖都已经松动的墙上本来就不太稳当。不过，我担心的事情并没有发生，我的啤酒还是稳稳地在我身边。有那么一会儿，我依然一言不发地坐在墙头上，而她双手手指交叉沉思着，我则继续看着我面前漆黑的树林。我吸完了一支香烟，把烟头掐灭，又点燃了另一支。我其实不吸烟。

She’s looking at me now. I can feel her eyes on the side of my head. “I’m sorry about… I’m sorry.” I do not respond. What response is there? I could tell her I’m sorry too, or that I’m not sorry and neither is he, so why should she be? Or that he was… is… a bastard, or that inside I’m crying but I don’t cry so… but she’s speaking again. The cigarette is shaking; highlighted by my apparent verbal incapacity, I can feel her attention focused on it. I don’t smoke.

此时，她正看着我。我能感觉到她的眼睛正盯着我的侧脸。“我很抱歉......我很抱歉。”她说。我并没有做出回应。我又能怎么回应呢？难道我对她说我也很抱歉，或者说我没什么可抱歉的，她也是，可她为什么要对我说抱歉呢？或者说他......是......一个混蛋，或者告诉她我的内心在哭泣，但我不会哭出来......但她又开始对我说抱歉。我的香烟在颤抖，这让我的哑口无言更加明显，我可以感受到她的注意力已全部集中在我颤抖的香烟上。我其实不吸烟。

“I hate men.” This said quietly, but with a strange, lightning vehemence that captures my full attention instantly. I glance at her sideways with a laugh that might have passed for a cough. It could have been a cough. I don’t smoke.

“我讨厌男人。”她的语气相当平静，却带着一种奇怪的、闪电般的震撼，能够瞬间抓住我的全部注意力。我瞥了一眼她的侧身，同时发出会被误认为咳嗽声的笑声。我们本来是可以咳嗽两下的。我其实不吸烟。

She’s looking at me again, but I’m back in the woods. If I turn my head, I will be able to see her eyes and then I will know what she means. But it’s her move in this strange game we’ve been playing, and I remain still. I feel her look away again. Pass. Her disappointment is palpable, and I wonder what she wants from me, why she cares about my reaction, or lack thereof. I wonder how much she knows. I make my own move with a quick flick of the cigarette. I don’t smoke.

她再次看着我，但我的目光已回到了树林深处。如果此时我转过头，我就能看到她的双眸，然后就我会知道她的真正意思。但，正因为她在这场我们一直在玩的奇怪的游戏中的所作所为，于是保持着不动。我感到她再一次看向了别处。她放弃了这次机会。她的失望显而易见，我纳闷她想要从我这里得到些什么，为什么她在乎我的反应或者我的无动于衷。我好奇她究竟知道多少。我快速地弹了一下烟灰，算是我在这场游戏中的又一次行动。我其实不吸烟。

“I don’t like men,” she says again, even more quietly, if that’s possible. I grunt noncommittally before inhaling another lungful of smoke. The red embers glow violently in the night before fading to dull grey ash. I don’t smoke.

“我不喜欢男人。”她再一次平静地说道，语气甚至比之前更加平静。我嘴里含糊不清地咕哝着，然后又深深地吸了一口烟。红色的烟灰余烬在夜里发出夺目的光芒，然后逐渐褪色为暗灰色的灰烬。我其实不吸烟。

“No, I mean it. I really don’t like men.” Louder. She gets her desired response. I take the cigarette out of my mouth with the hand previously reserved for beer and look at her. It’s her turn to look at the woods now. When she turns her head, too suddenly for me to pretend not to notice, to look away quickly. Our eyes meet, green on more green. We both know that I know what she means. The next move is mine.

“不，我是说真的。我真的不喜欢男人。”她放大了声音。她得到了她想要的回应。我用之前拿啤酒罐的那只手取出了嘴里叼着的香烟，然后看着她。这次轮到她看向那片树林了。当她转过头来时，因为太突然，我没来得及假装没关注她，也没来得及迅速转开视线。我们的目光相遇了，两双绿色的眼睛彼此相对。我们俩都知道我了解她的真正意思了。下面该轮到我做出反应了。

I should say, me neither, and pretend not to know what she means, turn back to the forest and my cigarette. I should say, me neither, and lean in, close my eyes, close the shallow distance between us, close this game. I should leap down seven feet and she should follow, and whatever happened then would be between our self-control and our fate. But I don’t believe in fate, and I don’t smoke.

我应该说，我也没那个意思，并且假装不知道她的真正意思，然后转回树林方向，继续吸我的香烟。我应该说，我也没那个意思，并靠向她的方向，然后闭上眼睛，彻底拉近我们之间一层薄纱的距离，结束这场游戏。我应该跳下这七英尺的高度，她应该紧随其后，之后无论发生什么都将取决于我们的自制力与命运的安排。但我不相信命运，我其实也不吸烟。

I look away from her. “Don’t we all,” I say ruefully as I stub my cigarette out. I swing my legs over the wall, start to leave and turn back. I do not look at her as I collect my beer from its ledge, down it, and crush the can. The metal crumples easily against my hand. I leave her sitting on the wall as I return to the glaring lights and pervasive bass booster, to my drunk and currently–conspicuously-cheating-in-a-corner friend. Without taking my eyes off the unabashed gratification in front of my eyes, I sit down on a stool, take out another cigarette, and ask the bartender for a light. I don’t smoke.

我把目光从她身上移开。“我们俩都不会。”我沮丧地说，同时熄灭了香烟。我摆动双腿，起身离开墙头，然后转过身来，从壁架上取下我的啤酒罐，然后用手将它碾成一团，这个过程中我没有瞅她一眼。碾成一团的啤酒罐在我手里并不显眼。当我回到耀炫目的灯光和无处不在的重低音中，回到我正在角落里喝的酩酊大醉、尔虞我诈且暗中出轨的朋友身边时，她还一个人坐在墙头上。我的目光并没有离开我眼前的这一幕毫无廉耻的获得快乐的场景，我坐在一张凳子上，又取出一支香烟，然后向酒保要了一个打火机。我其实不吸烟。