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The Boomerang

"Freeze," he said. "Stay in the vehicle and put your arms on the steering wheel."
             He approached the car closer, examined it carefully and said:
            "Let me see your driver's license."
            Harut gave it to him.
            "You passed under the red light. I'll have to give you a traffic ticket."
            Harut drove his car to his apartment. Well, not really his, but Jeff's apartment where he lived. Jeff was sitting on the sofa, drinking Chianti1 and leaving a message on someone's answering machine.
Whenever he drank it meant something was wrong.
            "What's the matter my friend? Is anything wrong?" asked Harut.
            "Everything is wrong. My landlord was here this morning. He said I couldn't keep so many people in the apartment. Those two have to leave. But you can stay, buddy."
            "No Jeff, if Alex has to leave, I'll have to leave, too. He's my friend, I can't leave him in trouble," said Harut.
            "Bullshit! That's just fucking bullshit what you just said! He's not a friend to you! Do you want me to remind you how he treated you when you needed his help? He left you when you needed him, and now you're trying to tell me that he's your friend? Whom are you trying to convince? Yourself or me? Whom are you trying to lie to, Harut?"
              "Jeff, I can't treat him like he treated me. I'm not like him. I respect friendship."

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