Aurelio's Dilemma

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

"This...we took this picture at the skatepark," Leslie said, lightly tracing it, making sure it was real. Then her fingertip brushed over the note, and her eyes widened with disbelief. "My handwriting." After staring for another moment, she straightened and looked Aurelio in the eyes. "But I didn't do this. I didn't write this. I didn't even print that pic or anything. How in the world...?"

Aurelio sighed. "No clue."

Poor Leslie was so confused she couldn't even close her mouth; there was a tiny part between her lips as she continued staring at the card, as if a written explanation to all this bullshit would suddenly appear on there.

"When we came back from the lake, right?" Leslie asked. "That's when you texted me about the card."

"Yeah." Aurelio leant his cheek on his palm, yawning, covering his mouth with the other hand. Leslie glanced at him. Maybe she would have commented about how sleepy he looked, but right now she was too preoccupied. "The words and the signature aren't printed, by the way. The ink was fresh when I first found the card and it smudged my fingers. So if it's not you, who the hell managed to write all of this with your exact handwriting and signature? Not to mention that only you have the pic on your phone."

"I...I have absolutely no idea." Leslie shook her head. "This is just impossible."

Aurelio shrugged. "I thought it was a prank or a sick joke at first. Maybe you got hacked?" Silence blanketed over them as they mulled over the theory. "But even then, it's still impossible. Say, someone managed in some divine way to copy your handwriting and signature. But how would they slip it under my pillow? Only you came into my room between the day we took the pic and the day I found the card. And my mom was home at that time, so she would've noticed if someone broke in or some weird shit. I would've noticed."

"That doesn't even sound right. Why would anyone do something like this? Plus my signature is hard to copy, and no one knows it." Leslie leant back in her seat and watched the card with a frown. "If it's not me, then only your mom could've accessed your room, right?" Aurelio nodded. "Do you...Do you think...Is it possible that your mom's trying to set us up? Does she approve of you and Blair together?"

Aurelio thought for a moment. "My mom doesn't beat around the bush like that. If she didn't trust Blair, she would tell me. And if she thinks I should be with you, she'd say it to my face. Better yet, she'd say it to your face. She wouldn't do anything so weird and elaborate just to make us consider each other. Especially not when she thinks I'm already in a...fragile state."

After a moment of apprehension, Leslie breathed out and waved her hands dismissively. "You know what?" She pushed the card aside and leant forward. "Forget about the card for now. It's not the first weird thing that happened, right? Let's start from the very beginning, and we'll work our way back to the card. Tell me, when did all of this start?"

Well, now the uncomfortable part. Aurelio looked at his lap. He fiddled with his fingers.

"Elio?"

"When I saw the car crash on the news. It was normal at first, you know. Just the normal anxiety. Nothing I haven't experienced before. I always go through that whenever I hear about a car crash or something. And usually it gets better in a few days. But this time, it didn't. It kept getting worse and worse and then...weirder."

"Weirder?"

Aurelio nodded. He told her about the first incident with his uncle--the whole key situation and then the inexplicable, overwhelming guilt. He reminded Leslie of the way he'd forgotten that she had a boyfriend, that his dad smoked, and the shape of his violin case. "And there's this situation with Blair..." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, shoulders slouched. This part was possibly the most confusing and terribly awkward one. "I honestly don't know how to explain it, but recently, me and Blair...There's something wrong. And I can't tell if it's just me." Aurelio frowned. "It probably is. I can't even tell if it's real or not, everything I've been feeling."

"I sensed there was something off between you and Blair."

Aurelio looked at Leslie. "Really?"

"A blind person can tell that you're uncomfortable with her, Elio," Leslie said. "I mean, I know you're naturally like that--quiet and a little rigid and reserved, but goddamn, you become as stiff as a board whenever she's with you. It's like you're still not used to her, even though you've been together for years."

It's like you're still not used to her.

Exactly. That was exactly how Aurelio felt about his relationship with Blair. They'd been together for years, but it felt like only a few weeks. Things he should be used to by now still felt weird and foreign.

"Yeah. Exactly. It's not that she makes me uncomfortable. It's not her. It's not personal," Aurelio said. "It's more like... the little things, you know?" He looked at Leslie again for assurance, to make sure she was still following, that she understood. She nodded. "I'm not sure this makes sense."

"It does," Leslie said. "By little things, what do you mean?"

"Like..." God, this was about to get awkward. Aurelio straightened and braced himself. "Like the way we cuddle. I'm always the small spoon. Literally always. She does it like that's the default, as if she knows for a fact that I like it. But I don't. She's in my personal space all the time, and I hate that. She calls me babe even though I hate these nicknames so, so much. There's more but...you get the idea."

"I do, and I understand," Leslie said. There was something strained about her expression, like she was trying hard to keep it straight, to curb a certain emotion. "But that sounds like a communication problem, don't you think? You should tell her what you like and what you don't like."

"I know. I swear I do. I don't mean that Blair is a piece of shit and she's purposely making me uncomfortable. I know if I tell her all of this, she'd understand and respect it. My problem is that why am I just now complaining about all of this? Why did it never bother me until now, even though I've always been like this? I've always hated nicknames. I've always liked my personal space. You know this stuff about me."

Leslie nodded. "Yeah. I already knew all of that."

"So if I've been with Blair for years, why do we barely know each other? How come I've never told her about what I like and what I don't like? That's some basic communication I should've already had with my girlfriend." Aurelio opened his mouth to continue, then closed it again, and he realized he was too tense. He leant back and sighed for the millionth time this day. "And...God."

"What is it?"

"I don't think I've ever talked so much at once."

Leslie chuckled. "True. Do you want a little break?"

Aurelio shook his head. He wanted to get all of this out of his chest as fast as possible.

"There's more," Aurelio said, leaning forward again. "I noticed a pattern."

"Pattern?"

"Yeah. The way she treats me, it reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"Matt."

Leslie frowned, but it was more apprehensive than confused; she was trying to locate the connection too.

Aurelio focused on a spot on the table as he gathered his thoughts. "This might sound stupid, or crazy, I don't even know anymore," he said, "but I feel like Blair is treating me the way I think Matt would want to be treated. It's like she's mistaking me for him."