Page 20

Abby

After a quick breakfast together, Ve left to shower himself at home. I clean the apartment and take a bath. I light some candles, grab a book, and slip into the bathtub. Harry Potter’s world sucks me in so much that when I finally put the book down for a while, I can see the foam has already vanished, and the water is lukewarm at best. It’s one of the only books that has consumed me like that. Before that, I only really liked The Little Prince and Lassie . I’ve always been fascinated by everything magical and mysterious. When I was little, I used to dress up as a fairy and pretend I had magical powers. I would predict the future and cast spells.

Afterward, I visit Grandma.

“Hey, Granny, how are you holding up?” I enter her flat and give her a big hug.

My grandmother is a petite sixty-two-year-old who looks a lot younger than she is. She’s like my second mom. I spent most of my childhood with her and Grandpa. We were always very close. Sadly, Grandpa passed away two years ago. Too fast, too early. He was too young. Grandma is better now, but the first year after Grandpa’s death was very hard for her. Now she’s accepted the way things are.

All my friends love visiting my grandma with me. They can talk for hours. Everybody likes her. She’s smart and sweet. She has her quirks, of course, but who doesn’t?

“Good, thank you, dear,” she replies. “How was your night?”

Too curious for my liking. I get a bit nervous. I hate lying, so my answer isn’t exactly an untruth.

“Pretty good, Grandma. I slept well.”

We go to the kitchen, and I help peel potatoes. Grandma always laughs at me for hating to cook and do anything even a bit related to food. Either I pour something over myself or I get burned. Preparing meat is the worst. I always feel like throwing up. Can’t say why, it’s just the way it is. Always a shock.

Now I watch the older woman. Even when she stays home, she always looks ready to go out. Elegant, always immaculately dressed, with her hair done. She looks like an aristocrat.

Having eaten her delicious dinner, I return home and finish cleaning up. I only have the kitchen to return to its previous state after yesterday’s meeting. I didn’t have the time to do it all. I spent too much of it reading. I’m finishing doing the dishes when someone knocks on the door. I open it and, to my great surprise, see Ralph. What does he want here? I think, frantically trying to recall anything that could have brought him here. To no avail.

He’s an ex. I haven’t seen him for months. Turns out, he’s here to apologize. As soon as he does so, he offends me by suggesting I’m with Ve only because I want a bodyguard. What a fucking ridiculous idea.

“Did he make you come here? Apologize?” I hiss, furious. What would the point be, though? Ralph says nothing. He’s disoriented. I go on, ignoring his expression: “Apology accepted. Now scram.” I slam the door in his face, releasing my emotions.

What was that supposed to be? Is Ve going to make all my exes apologize for stuff? I don’t get it. I need to calm down a bit, so I take a walk. I meet Stanley.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks.

“I’m so pissed! Do you know why Ralph came over today?” I ask. The two were classmates, after all.

“Not the faintest idea. I haven’t seen the guy for two years.”

We stop by a low wall. I take a seat. Stan stands in front of me and talks about his new girlfriend. They met when he went back to his hometown. Suddenly, he pins me with a stare.

“Connor’s coming,” he warns.

Coming but not stopping by me? What’s wrong? I turn his way. He must have seen us.

“Hey, Ve,” Stan calls out and waves for him to join us. Ve raises a hand but doesn’t stop or turn our way.

My stomach cramps. I jump to my feet, aghast. I don’t know what to think. What’s his problem? A couple of hours ago he was in my bed, hugging me. Did something happen? Thousands of question marks spin over my head.

“Ve!” I cry. “What’s wrong?”

I jog his way, but he doesn’t want to talk.

“How’s your ex?” he asks with a grimace.

Jesus, I can’t believe this is happening. First, he sends him to me, and then he’s pissed that I saw him? What is this game he’s playing? I’m immediately exhausted.

“What are you playing at, Connor? You sent him to me yourself, so what’s your deal? What did you want to achieve?”

As soon as I finish speaking, I sense this is about something more. I even have a startling idea that he did it because he’s afraid there’s something between me and Ralph. Only why would he think that? I told him about my ex because he asked, but I let him know it’s all in the past. That was when I was still a kid. I sense he needs confirmation so that he can feel safe. This is just his defensive mechanism. That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like what he did.

“I’m not playing,” he says with a growl.

“Will you come by later?” I ask to reduce the tension between us.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we can go to the bar? You owe me something,” I offer with a smile, trying my best to overcome his dark mood.

“Can’t say if I’ll be in the mood.”

“Okay, I get it.” Or, at least I’m trying.

“If you want it so much, go yourself!” he calls angrily. Now I’m annoyed too.

I’m not going to babysit him! He’s not a toddler anymore. I spin on my heel and stomp away, returning to Stan.

“Wait!” he calls.

“What do you want me to wait for? I’m not waiting for you if that’s how you’re going to treat me.”

“I’m sorry. Stay, please.”

“Care to tell me what this is all about?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly. I don’t comment, though I’d like for him to tell me why he acted like that. I don’t want to argue, though, and the state he’s in could lead to that, whatever I told him. Spats like that unbalance me. I don’t like feeling this way, so I let it go. For now.

Together, we walk over to Stan, who’s been observing us the whole time.

“What’s up, bro?” he asks.

“You fooling around with my girl?” Finally, my Ve is back. He’s poking fun at Stan.

“Sure thing, bro. I told you she’s my favorite friend,” Stan retorts with a grin.

“I’m right here, gentlemen. Forgot about me?” I chuckle. “I’m not fooling around with anyone, and it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

A few moments of quipping and Ve’s pulling me away by the arm, saying goodbye to our friend.

“Everything alright? Where were you coming from?” I ask when we’re alone.

“I went to Ted’s. Helped out with the car. What were you two doing anyway?” he asks. Do I hear envy in his voice?

“I had to get out for some air after the unwanted and unannounced visit from a kid I never felt anything special for and who I don’t intend to return to. He got under my skin. Especially the moment I discovered you sent him to me. I was just walking around the block when I met Stan.” I send Ve a bitter look. For a while, he stays silent. Then, he takes my face in his hands and leaves a wet kiss on my lips. “I’m not going to let this go, Ve!”

“He pissed me off. I heard what he was saying about you. I made him go and apologize. If he didn’t, I was going to kick his head in. I thought it was a great idea until the moment I realized I didn’t want him to go anywhere close to you. So I got mad at myself for making him do it, and I took it out on you.”

“I understand. Thank you for telling me this. But I’m not really interested in what people say about me. In most cases they’re wrong. I’m used to it. Boys who won’t ever have me always say the worst things. Girls jealous of me for spending so much time with boys also tend to have some stories about me. I just don’t care. I used to, maybe, but I got past it.”

Someone must have hurt him badly. I’m no expert in psychology, but he hasn’t opened himself up to me like that before. I still don’t understand much. Still, I think it has to be something deeper. Behavior like that always stems from a lack of self-confidence. More elements are clicking into place. Despite everything, I’m discovering more things that we have in common or had in common long before we met.

A month has passed today since the day Ve told me I was his. I’m going to him now. Conflicting emotions are clashing in my head. I don’t know what I feel anymore. I hate being in this condition. I loathe the childish acting out on his part, and there’s been more of that lately. There are so many dissonant elements to him—uncertainty and confidence at the same time. I’m a simple, open girl. I tell him everything, but it’s as if he still can’t believe I don’t want to double-cross, disappoint, or hurt him. He doesn’t seem to accept the thought that he can be important to someone, that somebody really cares for him. I have never seen myself as anything special. On the contrary—for quite some time I had seen myself as a worthless, ugly, fat girl who would never catch the eye of any boy. This changed somewhat when various boys started to make passes at me. But there haven’t been many. I really only dated a guy I met on vacation, and the fling ended with the holiday break too. We wrote to each other for some more time, but that was it. I used to like that other boy, too, but that came to nothing. That’s for the best, anyway. He overdosed on acid and went completely batshit. He grew strange, a bit crazy in a bad way. For some time in primary school, I dated a boy named Ben. Then there was Charles, but that was just kids horsing around. Then came Roger—my first real love, though I fell for him mainly because of the way he looked at me, the way he cared. He was a romantic and looked after me. The way he treated me made me feel special and beautiful. After that, I was with Ralph. We started dating because I wanted to. I got it into my head to be with the guy. None of those “relationships” survived. I’m still not sure if they were supposed to pull me out of the mire of negative thoughts I had about myself, and I used to be stuck in it neck deep. Thanks to those boys I finally felt pretty. But none of it was meant to last. Nevertheless, Ralph was the last one. I was completely in the dumps after we broke up. Maybe Ve is afraid something is still going on between us. But that’s simply not the case. I’m over him. I have been since I met Matt. I had an enormous crush on him, but that wasn’t it either. Besides, he was the reason I started thinking bad things about myself again—seeing myself as useless. It was only Ve that made me feel pretty again. He accepted me for who I am. No. That’s not the word. He adores everything about me, even the parts of me I feel self-conscious about, like my toes. I’ve always been ashamed of the way they looked, and he loves them. So I started to believe they were okay, beautiful even. I had no choice and fell in love with them like he did. The thought makes me smile.

I stop by Ve’s door and knock.

“Hello, my gorgeous.” He opens the door wider and invites me inside.

“Good morning,” his dad calls. Before I can reply, Ve grabs me by the hand and pulls me towards his room. He shuts the door, faces me, and offers me a red rose. I sense his nervousness, his unease. I smell the beautiful flower and hear his words: “I care about you so much. I think I fell in love with you.”

I raise my brows. My eyes are wide with shock. I don’t know what to say to that. It took me completely by surprise. I cannot say the same, though. It’s great, hearing this. He’s a great guy. I really want to tell him the same, but I still need some time. My trust in other people isn’t what it used to be. Before I give my heart away, I need to be sure the person I offer it to won’t leave me and stomp it into the ground. Or maybe I’m only trying to convince myself that I don’t reciprocate his feelings? Otherwise, why would that magical force keep pulling me to him time and time again?

Without any clear idea of what to say, and not wanting to leave him hanging, I put the flower down and hug Ve closely. He pulls away and fixes me with a long look.

“I thought… I’ve made a fool of myself, haven’t I? Too early? I scared you.”

“Ve, calm down. I’m glad you said that. I just can’t explain to you what I’m feeling yet. I’m less trusting than I used to be. I know one thing for certain, though: I adore you and I love spending all the time with you. It’s just that… your mood swings make me afraid. I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me and leave. I’d like to understand you, but you just tell me so little.”

“That’s good enough. ‘Adore’ is what I wanted to hear!”

Ve sits down on his bed and pulls me with him. I land in his lap. He looks me in the eyes and brushes a strand of hair from my brow, leaning in and kissing me on the lips. I return it, and my tongue slips through my lips. It wants more. Ve doesn’t need much. He presses against my lips, leaving them wet and chafing after an instant.

“You’re trying to take my attention off your mood swings,” I say, taking a breath. “Tell me more about them.”

He doesn’t reply, instead pushing me to the bed and climbing atop me, pressing his entire body to mine and finding a place between my legs. So that’s what it’s going to be. No answer. How am I supposed to trust him? I’m utterly lost as to his motivations when he’s so conflicted. But I do like these moments we spend together. We can sit and talk for hours. I can have a bad day, and it’s enough that he shows up and the world disappears magically. He’s my remedy for everything. Not sure how this works, but we just jell. It’s natural. However, my approach to life is very different to his. Ve’s always smiling, laughing at me for believing in things he sees as stupid and unreal. I know that. The things I heard participating in meetings in my parents’ companies resonate with me. The examples described by Tony Robinson or Joseph Murphy speak louder than the words of priests at church or teachers at school. I have a conviction that though Ve’s mind is more rational than mine, deep inside he knows I’m right. Especially that magic happens in my life. I get something in my head, imagine it, and the thing comes true. I have vision boards. In our young relationship, he’s earth and I’m water. He plants his feet firmly on the ground, while I’m in the clouds, going with the flow. Connor and I are a bit like yin and yang—one cannot exist without the other, like the day cannot exist without the night, light without the darkness, and death without life. The two primal, opposing but complementary forces.

Ve gets up to grab us something to drink. He puts on some music. Tede’s catchy song booms from the speakers. I like hip-hop. The next song, 50 Cent, ends when Carla appears at the door.

“Hi, Abigail,” she chirps.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Carla is Ve’s younger sister. She’s very nice, though I can sense a kind of extreme energy from her. I haven’t had the time to take a closer look at it, so I don’t know what extreme she represents and what direction she’s following. Who knows, maybe we’ll become friends?

“Everything’s fine. I just popped by to say hi,” she says quickly and disappears.

Ve returns with two mugs of tea. I take a sip. It’s perfect.

“How did you become interested in hip-hop?” I ask.

“Maybe it’s because of the lyrics. They’re close to my heart. Or, at least, they used to be. I wrote a song or two myself.”

“You wanted to record a mixtape?” I’m intrigued by this, but Ve looks embarrassed.

“Yeah, well, we did a bit of that.”

“Wow, that’s awesome! Do you still have it? Can you rap something for me?”

“No way. Not going to happen.”

“That’s a shame. You have a beautiful voice. It would have been so cool.”

A shy smile appears on his face.

“Want to sleep at my place tonight?” I ask.

“There’s nothing I would want more, but I think Dad’s going to throw me out if I don’t return home another night.”

“There’s no telling when I’ll be alone again,” I say, making my sweetest pleading, inviting face.

“Jesus, the way you look at me makes me hard. You know that, don’t you? I have to say, you are pretty convincing. Let me see what I can do.”

Five minutes of talking to his dad later, he returns, sporting a wide grin.

“It’s done.”

“How did you do it?”

“I told him we’re going to a party and will be back in the morning.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

On the way we drop by the market and buy dinner. We settle on French fries. My favorite dish.

The first thing I do when we’re home is call Grandma. I tell her I’m already home and promise I’ll go to sleep right after I eat dinner. She wishes me a good night and hangs up.

I turn the fryer on, and we sit on the balcony. Ve lights a cigarette and leans against the railing, while I fold my legs and wrap my arms around them. I like watching him. Jesus, what don’t I like that’s connected to that boy? Only those moments he acts weird. But I can live with them, as long as what I feel for him rewards me every moment of uncertainty and discomfort.