No, no, no, no.
How could I have forgotten today's Spanish exam?
How was I able to put my place at the University on the line?
How did I let myself be influenced by Chelsea?! Damn, dammit.
I knew it had been a bad idea to attend a party at Harley Tombson's house on a Tuesday. If I had only sustained my argument for a few more minutes, Chelsea would have given up dragging me to South Boston just to attend a dumb party at the cottage of the most popular girl in high school.
A damn party the day before the Spanish exam!
Everything was going downhill!
My brain was too busy trying to recover from the alcohol it was subjected to during the evening games to recall the subjects of Mr. Kavisck's classes. My ability to swallow thousands of contents in a single minute had melted along with each of my neurons. It was as if I had been turned to powder thanks to the damn whiskey I swallowed down my throat without even remembering the next day.
It was only fifteen minutes before I was forced into the room and faced the nightmare written on sheets of paper. Despair was already holding me hostage.
I just hated that feeling of insecurity, powerlessness, and worthlessness. Reading the questionnaire and realizing that no sentence was good enough to have as an answer made me want to pull my hair out without any pity. Delivering the blank proof seemed more appropriate than delivering with empty and meaningless answers. That would destroy all my credibility.
The anxiety was beginning to disturb me along with other whirlwinds of euphoric thoughts, it didn't take long for me to start discounting all the internal emotional discharge in my physique. All so that the pressure would relieve.
The shortness of breath, as always, was already showing signs.
Fuck if Chelsea would spend hours complaining about my brittle wires! Fuck if she'd beg to put fake nails on my finger noises! That was her fault!
I slammed my feet on the ground and began to walk the halls of the building in uncontrolled anxiety.
The air began to disappear from my lungs and the desperation almost made me forget about the asthma bomb inside my pocket. I grabbed it quickly and sucked before it got worse.
The oxygen dose helped, but it didn't lessen the feelings.
The signal rang just as I was looking for data on my phone to go to G****e and jot down some information in my brain. I tried to hurry to see something useful, but Professor Kavisck was already making his way to the classroom.
I wasted no time and ran to find a comfortable chair where few could see my utter despair.
Buenos Días! — the jovial— looking man placed his belongings on the table and balanced his glasses on the tip of his nose. — I hope everyone is prepared.
Many nodded confidently as I curled up in a ball of wool.
I, the daughter of a Brazilian, knew many words in common with Spanish. But my reasoning was gone. Mom would kill me if she knew I forgot her tongue one night.
— Looks like they're all present. — he looked at the time on his wristwatch. – Well…
— Buenos días, profesor! — Chelsea arrived in the room interrupting him with a gigantic smile on her face.
— You're late, Miss Morgan — Kavisck threw her a scolding look that would make me cry easily, but he wasn't able to wring joy out of the girl.
— Como desées! — he shrugged.
Chelsea teased the head of the room by saying goodbye and sat down in a chair on the other side, far away from me, where she wouldn't be able to hear the rants I wanted to burden on her.
Settled into her seat, my friend looked at me, waved, and let out a wink.
She looked happy.
Too happy.
She had studied! I could see it in his confident posture!
I already knew that. Chelsea was very different from me, and among our disagreements, she had an unbelievable ability to recover from a hangover in the blink of an eye.
While I died of headaches and burned in fever for hours, she would drink a draft beer and respond to activities.
Fuck.
All for a momentary pleasure.
Drug!
— Slut — I muttered half — heartedly.
— Like you said, Backer? — All of a sudden, when I turned away from Chelsea, everyone had their concentration on me.
— Nothing, Professor, — I curled up in my chair more than I could, getting completely nervous.
— Great, — he was cold. — As I was saying, the race was scheduled for today, however...
A smile wanted to escape my lips as I heard him contradict his entire sentence with a single word, giving me hope that it would be delayed and I could take my 10 with no chance of tarnishing my report card.
— ... I had said it would be single, but after some ideas, I decided to form pairs.
It wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear, but it was enough for a sigh of relief to escape my lungs.
Chelsea had studied and she was always my double.
— I want you to interact with your colleagues and share your knowledge, — Mr. Kavisck began to pull the leaves out of his bag. You will be able to do that.
The teacher watched the entire end of the classroom cautiously and sat back down in his seat, crossing his legs carefreely.
I prepared to get up from my seat and sit next to my friend, but before I could do that, Kavisck hurried over:
— The pairs will be formed by me. When I call the names, get organized.
The students were just disappointed by that statement, but I was furious.
Furious!
Devastated!Damn, dammit!
It was as if the universe was loving watching my suffering in slow motion.
— Jonas Cohan and Sabrina Mason.
The teenagers mentioned were happy and satisfied to meet each other. How could they not stay? They were best friends!
— Douglas Jr. and Ian Sullivan. — the professor adjusted his glasses once more.—Kathleen Patrison and Louis O'Malley. Chelsea Rodriguez and Harley Tompson.
My best friend's bright smile made me stop paying attention to the professor's words. Seeing her content to sit next to the most popular girl in high school brought me treacherous feelings that pumped my consciousness.
I was furious. I should have known that would happen. Chelsea always got me into holes and never helped me get out of them, she cared little for my concern about not having grades less than nine on my report card. All it took was a seven and a few sixes to get through the year.
If I had known it would be like this, I would never have gone to that damn party.
— Backer! — an echo sounded in my eardrums. — Angel Backer!
When I recovered from the vegetative state, the whole room stared at me with questioning looks. Only Mr. Kavisck harbored impatience rather than doubt.
— You're not listening to me? — His tone was enough to make me succumb.
I hated getting scolded or anything that involved putting a warning on my school record.
— O... what?
He snorted.
— Sit next to Ian Caccini!
My eyes widened at his exclamation and my legs turned to jelly.
— Why would I do that? — The questioning came out before I could retrieve all the strings of reasoning.
— Because I'm bossing! Unless you want to spend the time of the test next to the director!
The stiff man's scream made my recovery even more difficult.
— But,— I stammered, trying to quell the anxiety and remember why I had to go sit next to Ian.
— I don't have it all day! — bellowed once more.
I continued in the same place, lost in a world where nothing fit.
— Alright, I will,— a low, hoarse voice protruded around the room, and suddenly Ian was standing in front of me. — Can you move it back a bit?
Seeing that paralyzed boy near me, waiting for me to react somehow, made me go back to the real world.
My duo for the test was Ian Caccini.
Of all the students in the room, Mr. Kavisck put me together with the weirdest in the school.
— Are you going to remove it or not? — he questioned impatiently, staring at me without any concern or intimidation.
— Sorry,— I whispered, dragging myself to the left side of the bench. — I don't...
— I know,— he settled down and shrugged. — Your legs are too tired from the effort you made dancing at Harley Tombson's party last night for you to walk up to my chair.
My sockets jumped out of my eyes at that boy's comment. A mixture of weird sensations rolled my stomach as if someone had punched me.
What a jerk!
— What did you… What? — I didn't hear it right, right?
— What did you hear, Prom Queen. — he remained indifferent.
— Who do you think you are? — Instead of cursing him, I decided to stand my ground.
— Don't be angry, Backer, I didn't lie.
If we weren't surrounded by students I would fly up to that boy.
— Not that it's your business, but I barely danced at that party. By the way, I didn't go to your chair because I don't usually sit next to idiots!
— Not usually, is it? — he smiled sarcastically. — You spend the break surrounded by them.
Argh! How I wished to pluck that laugh with my fingernails!
He was so... Weird, arrogant and whenever he talked to me he made me feel like a helpless ant.
It's no wonder he didn't have friends.
— Do you like watching me? Are you a lunatic? — I straightened the posture on the chair. — Our parents being friends doesn't make us be either!
Oh, yes... And I saw him every weekend without exception. This was the sentence God gave for my sins.
— Who says I want to be your friend?
There was a lot more to his sentence than he let on, but I shook my head not to overthink that twinkle in his eye.
— Great, so we think alike! — he said, looking away from the pen in my hands. — Now stop being a pain in the ass.— As you wish, Prom Queen.After a while in silence, my mind wandering aimlessly, I did not hold back from questioning:— How did you know I was at Harley's house? You weren't there, were you?He stared at me deeply.— Nope. — That's all you said.— And how...Before I could finish, the teacher showed up putting the exam on our desk. When he left, I resumed:— And how do you know I was at the party? And dancing?Ian filled out the form with his black pen without bothering to offer more attention to me.— I live next door.I couldn't stop ungluing my iris from the boy.Ian Caccini was considered the biggest troublemaker in the school, which was odd since he was always alone and silent.From what I've heard, people just took it for granted after Harley Tombson's brother said he saw him fighting with a man near his house over a cigarette. After that, no on
FOUR YEARS LATERThe flashes flickered in such rapid motions that my eyes turned into dark, crooked, blurry blurs. With each clicking sound invading my eardrums, the more my brain forced itself to keep the smile exposed and the pupils perfectly focused, without offering pauses to get out of character.— Beautiful! Splendid! Wonderful!My photographer praised endlessly, encouraging me to keep my breath set, my shoulders firm, and my head sticking out.All for the perfect portrait.All to please my boss.All for the company.All for my family.Whenever I thought about giving up, ripping off that pinic, shiny, tacky outfit, I remembered why I'd been doing it. It only took a few words for my conscience to guide me back to reason.— The last one, Angel! — the redhead said. — Smile as if you had fulfilled all your dreams!I did as he asked. I bared all my teeth, narrowed my ribs, pulled my hips, made my eye sockets burn so they could continue to sustain the flash.But for a moment,
The traffic light opened and, between daydreams, I didn't see it. I could only see the green flashing when a car behind me honked its horn, making me hit the gas pedal until I got home.I pushed the melancholy thoughts to the bottom. I could not allow myself to lament, repent, or anything else related to my egoism. I made a choice and she was helping me a lot.— Good evening, Greg.I greeted the doorman of the building with a smile on my face and he greeted me with another in the same way.I loved it here.I loved my city. That was a positive side of my job. He allowed me not to go far. I could visit my sister at one time or another and she would come visit me too. Besides, no one would have guessed that Angel Backer lived in the suburbs of town.I was pleased.It was a simple, inexpensive building that supported my peaceful lifestyle. It contained plants at the entrance, some glass windows, and a very friendly doorman who always bid me good morning.I liked the place, even if some
That couldn't be true. Had I hallucinated the whole thing? Did that scene really happen? Was Ian Caccini, a ghost, really on my doorstep? And being a son of a bitch of a jerk?I questioned my lucidity for hours. I showered, put on a fresh outfit, brushed my hair and went to prepare a snack still with doubt choking my senses.After a long time of reasoning, I came to a solid conclusion: that mature looking, cold, tired, grown up guy was Ian Caccini. The same kid who confronted me on one of the worst days of my life (my first low grade), the same guy who called me on a date before I disappeared for four years, and the same guy who treated me like a stranger two hours ago.I didn't change as much as he did, and as soon as I slammed my eyes on his face, I knew who it belonged to. I would never forget him. How was he able to forget me?Not that I cared that much, but Ian saw me every Sunday for two years of our lives. Every Monday in Spanish class and almost every damn day in the halls of
— Ouch! — I yelled as the wood pressed against my foot.— More than fuck! — a startled look was the expression displayed by Ian. — Why did you put the crap in there?— Son of a bitch! — I exclaimed as the blood on my fingers pulsed.— Fuck, what did you do?!Ian looked worried. He was going to bend down to analyze, but remembered that he only wore a towel.His mouth traced a fine line and, after releasing all the air from his lungs, opened the door more than necessary.— Come in, let me see that.He gave me his hand for me to use as support, and the moment our skins touched, my nakedness so hot in contrast to the coldness of his caused a shock to my spine.I groaned again, only this time it was for the strange sensation and not for the foot drive.— You're crazy! I don't even know why I'm coming in here!I spoke loudly as soon as I sat down on his couch.— Am I crazy? It was you who set foot!— Because you were going to close the shit door in my face!— Again!I yel
The weekend passed like a destructive and merciless hurricane.I didn't have time off. I had to be at Diamond for three photo shoots and to help some new models who were in training.Rachel, unfortunately, was at the company monitoring everything and wouldn't even let me go out for lunch.— We don't have a break today to eat. — she said.After that he looked down on my body and mentioned harshly and firmly that it would be for my own good.It felt like punishment for the days I couldn't do jump rehearsals because of my foot. I never wanted to fly on her neck so much as I did in that torturous minute.But I didn't. I didn't even retort. I just remained silent and finished my work as she asked.It wasn't that hard, I was used to it, however, it was completely exhausting to deal with that superficial world. It was exhausting to be part of this superficial world.But it was my job and my life. I just needed to get used to swallowing, affirming, and smiling.— Whoops... Hey... Remembe
A familiar voice reached my eardrums along with the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.— Backer?! — My blurry vision prevented me from understanding what her expression was when I saw myself sitting there in the middle of nowhere. I'd probably be confused. — Are you okay?All I could manage was to deny it with my head.— What happened? — his tone changed as he saw the tears come out of my red eyes.I meant. I tried to speak, to scream, but I couldn't.My mouth gasped for oxygen, not bothering to spell words.— Backer, God, what am I supposed to do? What do you need? I'm going to call an ambulance!Ian reached into his pocket, ready to enter the emergency number. I wanted to warn that I wouldn't give it time, but all I did was scratch my throat in desperation, begging her to help me breathe or speak.He put his phone away when he saw that he wouldn't have time for anything.— What do you need? Come here, try to talk to me,— Ian bent down to look at my eyes. — Talk
I wake up the next day with scarce energies. It was as if an entire bus was parked on top of me at night. I could barely close my eyes, I couldn't stop thinking for a second about the latest events in my energy life.At least Rachel gave the weekend workers a break, so I had Monday off so I could catch my breath.The sun rose fast, warming the walls of the building. For lack of sleep, I saw him rise through my window and take possession of the darkened sky. When some birds began to sing and the movements of the cars were audible, I got up to make a strong tea.I put the boiling water in the kettle while I was still inside my thick pajamas. At the whistle, I deposited it in a mug along with the chamomile. It was hot, both the tea and the weather and my pajamas. For that reason, as soon as I savored it all, I took a long shower.I could feel sleep coming when my phone rang. I thought about ignoring and dozing off in the tub as drowsiness overwhelmed me, but I wasn't able to. I wrapped m