What do the stars feel when they look at Us?

Chapter 21: Sea Fortress, Pt. 1

Being somewhat together with Linda was surprisingly easy. Based on what we already knew about each other, the first thing we did after the night in the park was..., take a break.

We didn't ignore each other, we didn't avoid each other we just..., took a lot of time moving forward.

When I say it out loud it sounds like stereotypical, classic repression. Probably, maybe it was.

By doing that, I had a lot of time to think about her boobs.

I didn't feel very comfortable thinking about them at first.

I did everything to keep them off my mind.

The thought of them made me feel like all of my friends at school.

And I didn't want that.

Did I have to talk to them about boobs now?

Because I only seemed to mind Linda's.

So I decided to keep it to myself.

Until I knew what they meant to me.

Her boobs. Beeb boobs? No.

The peak of summer was really really close.

My room was always warm and bright whenever I was laying in my bed, thinking.

There were only a few weeks of the school year left. And we'd have holidays yet again.

And I could go for long walks with Pedro and spend late nights at the park.

Pedro. The thought of him reminded me of the Sunday workday week.

Small things like that seemed to cheer me up. Or keep me happy.

Getting up in the morning became simpler again.

The sun made everything feel fine.

-

This Sunday workday started off like every other Sunday workday did, too. We got our tea. We sat down underneath the red awning, right in front of the shop.

Pedro complained about having to work all weekend. And he was right about most of the points he made. Just, at the end of the day, he decided to go for that weekend solution himself.

I told him that.

And he tilted his head slightly. Straw in his mouth.

"I guess it is", he concluded, "huh."

And like that, we continued our Sunday workday as usual.

Sitting on the top floor of the library in the rancid beanbags.

Waiting for time to pass.

We talked about the evening in the park again. For about the fifth time this week. Pedro wanted to hear it. Over and over again.

And I didn't mind telling it. It did mess with my neatly thought out repression model but it was whatever.

I also couldn't tell him everything. I don't think I was there the whole evening myself. So I left out the parts that I forgot about. While I was gone. Lost within the dream about my dad.

I felt myself spiralling, but not for long or too much.

I could talk continuously. And it felt important.

-

It could have been just another Sunday workday until about one hour before we closed.

Because right then, under the blazing evening sun, someone entered the top floor of the building. Someone who I would have never expected to.

Merlin.

It was the first time I saw him sober. It was the first time I saw him outside of the park at all. I didn't know he could exist without it. But he did now, apparently.

He looked at us, full of unknown expectations.

We looked back at him, fully confused.

Then something in his eyes changed. Their sheer shine turned into pure panic.

He called for me to walk up to him and talk in person.

"Did you forget our arrangement?"

"Our arrangement?"

"Yes, what you said last Sunday. About your friend, Pedro? That I could meet him?"

I started not being able to follow him as soon as he entered the library. I didn't even know how I was involved in this conversation.

"I don't remember, I'm sorry."

"You did seem a little bit off."

"Yeah..."

"Should I come by some time else maybe?"

"Maybe."

"Really sorry about that."

"No, no, don't be."

"You've got my number in case you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

I had his number? Phone number? Number bummer.

I accompanied him to the escalator.

Saw him off.

Went back to the bean bags.

"Who was that?", Pedro asked.

"That was..., Merlin."

"Oh..., the Buffalo Merlin?"

"The Buffalo Merlin."

"He seemed fun."

"I think he is."

"So? What did he want?"

"I am..., not sure."

We went on with the Sunday workday as if it hadn't happened.

While in my mind it almost definitely did.