Truths

Part Three

They enter, still in silence, and take their seats at a table. Marco, like a true gentleman, offers to take the order and pays the check, returning to the table a few minutes later with two cups of delicious-smelling coffee.

Marco sugars his own, and Dalia sips it bitter. They look at each other and smile, neither of them knowing how to start a real conversation.

Marco is more shy and awkward than Dalia might have expected, and she finds him adorable. The way he smiles, the way he bites his lip looking for something cute or clever or nice to say. She feels so inadequate, so wrong in such a situation, sitting at a table in a bar with such a handsome guy.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Dalia turns and finds, again, Marco's friend looking at them with a lively sparkle in his eyes.

"Nice place, huh?" he says again. "It's just like it came out of nowhere."

Dalia winces at those words: it's as if that guy has read her mind.

"Well, I'll leave you to your awkward conversation."

And just as he appeared, Marco's friend leaves, the usual smile on his face. Dalia thinks it is, in fact, very nice of him to try to help a friend in evident distress. Amelia would probably have done the same, had she been there.

"What a guy," Marco says and lets out a laugh that eases the tension.

"How do you know him?" asks Dalia, and Marco squints.

"Never seen him before. I thought he was your friend."

The conversation then starts, thanks to that weird stranger who has decided to intrude on their silences and fill them with his low voice and crooked smiles. They talk about everything: books, films, music; they talk about their favourite dishes, and the courses they are attending, the exams they will soon have to sustain. Time really seems to fly by and, after what seems like a few minutes but is actually many more, Marco distractedly looks at his watch and flinches.

"Man, it's time to go already," he says. Dalia feels a little sad that the coffee is over so soon and prays with all her might that the experience can be repeated soon.

"Maybe this weekend we could, I don't know, go to the movies?" asks Marco as he stands up and puts on his coat. He helps her do the same.

"I... I'd like that. Very much."

Marco breaks into a beaming smile and escorts her out of the café, strolling alongside her down the road back to the faculty.

"Great! What would you like to see? Or would you rather I choose? Or maybe -"

"Maybe we choose together?"

Dalia feels, for once, like a knight in shining armour: she has just saved Marco from that uncontrollable river of words that she knows very well. And so, as they walk, Marco pulls out his phone and checks the weekend schedule. They finally decide to get tickets for Avatar, and Marco buys them directly from the phone.

"This is my number," he tells her a moment before dropping her off in front of the classroom. "I'll talk to you later in the week, then."

"And I'll see you on Friday," she smiles. Marco leans in as if to kiss her, but he reconsiders; maybe he doesn't want to rush things too much, maybe he doesn't want to scare her off, and Dalia is grateful for that. Although part of her would have loved at least a peck on the cheek.

The classroom is packed with students chatting undisturbed, waiting for the professor to arrive. The only vacant seat, Dalia notices, is the one Amelia has saved for her by occupying the chair with her bag. And, on the other side, sits Marco's friend-not-friend, whose name Dalia does not know. The boy fiddles with his mobile phone, looking around from time to time, and when she takes her seat, he gives her a beaming smile.