That Spanish Tutor (BxB)

CAPÍTULO 7

"Are you sure you don't know each other?" I ask them calmly.

"No," both Mikel and Jorge say, and their eyes lock through the rear-view mirror, and both guys look away.

Well, they look like they don't know each other, but both guys have been giving each other a cold shoulder, which makes me thing that they have to have known each other. There has to be a trip-to-the-past moment that made them act hostile... or unfriendly, I don't know, with each other.

We pass by Café Azul, which reminds me of Isabella and how she acted weird last time I was there, and turns right. He parks the car to the side just in front of Los Nuevos Camperos that I've seen before when Mikel and I were on our way to the beach. Jorge turns to look at me, and Mikel just climbs out without saying anything, though he waits for me and Jorge on the sidewalk.

"Where are we going?" I ask Mikel, who seems now to be in a thoughtful look, and his eyes light up.

"You're going to be a tourist," Mikel replies, grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you mean?"

"He means we'll be exploring the main reasons why people visit Tarifa," Jorge says as he puts a hand on my shoulder. "That's what I had in mind, too. Our first stop, Puerta de Jerez. That's that." He stretches his arms out and points to the wall that looks like it has been taken straight out of a castle.

And off we go there.

Both Jorge and Mikel are excited for me, and I look at them weirdly. I roll my eyes playfully at them and run after them as both boys begin walking towards our first destination. I push Jorge playfully and he looks at me, squinting his eyes, then chuckles.

We head through the entrance, and there's a lot of people taking pictures. At first, we head through the houses, all painted in white, and the further we walk, the older it becomes. I mean, the building.

"This is the only Puerta de Jerez that's being preserved," Mikel states as we walk further while I enjoy the view. "Fue construida en el siglo XIII. It was built in the 13th century."

"Wow, that's a long time." I say in awe.

"Hey, give me your phone, and I'll take a picture of you. Like a tourist." Jorge suggests and wiggles his brows. I punch him lightly on the chest but give him my phone. He opens up the camera and points out where I should stand and pose. "Pose like this. Yeah, stretch out your arms as if you're carrying the world."

Jorge demonstrates and I laugh how foolish he is.

I head to the center and pose like what he suggests, so I stretch out my arms and pretend that I'm presenting the world behind me when behind me is actually just a bunch of old buildings, an old town and full of people, in Tarifa. I smile wider than I would have liked, but I guess I'm just so happy that I'm finally here.

Meanwhile, from the corner of my eyes, I see Mikel snapping a picture of me on his cellphone, and he has a grin stuck on his lips as he watches me through the screen.

"Que guapo," Jorge teases as he hands me my phone back.

"Gracias," I reply back, curtsying in the process. He laughs.

"Vamonos," Mikel says and points forward.

We walk further until we see the what looks like an old church. There are columns, painted in white, that are supporting the small statue just above the closed door. The columns are placed neatly on each side of the entryway. Just by looking at the walls, you can clearly see how old the church is. The stone walls are dirty, and there are smudges of faded black on the corners, a hint that it has been left this way since God knows when. Some of the walls are already chipped as well, and when you take a look at it, and if you're frantic and get easily scared, you would easily think that the whole place is about to go down.