(Invisible) Red Thread

Coffee

My mother’s words resound inside my head, ones that I haven’t replayed in the past ten years: “Men mature slower than women,” she explained with a complicated smile on her face that I can’t still comprehend but that I guess was due for my father. “You have to always be aware of that. When you plan to shoot high, they are barely looking up at the sky searching for a sign.” The problem is that even before I knew how to shoot, he’d already swung.

Could it be that I saw something that wasn’t there? In that case, I can’t understand why, wasn’t he the one who begged for one chance? Or maybe, he never really felt something for me, that would sound more logical. But, what is it that I feel inside right now? Could it be that it hurts me? A minute ago I thought that the only wounded in this story would be my pride, but something inside my heart tore and I can prove it now that a tear falls in the hot coffee I have in front of me. Maybe it’s just that Cynthia won and she just got him back.

It should matter to me, really it shouldn’t. Unless… Unless Michael worked hard to somehow break my barrier of numbness.

It doesn’t make sense to feel this way. Definitely it doesn’t. Who would have thought? I think that not even Gina, who knows me to the core, would be able to see me like this, shedding tears over a sad cup of coffee, sitting on an old leather couch, in a lonely and quiet place.

The guy served my coffee down at the bar climbs up and comes closer to ask me if I needed something; I avoid him, but he keeps staring at me with worry.

“I’m fine.”

I answer him a little cranky and I turn around to fix my eyes on the lock of hair I grabbed between my fingers. I don’t see, but I can hear him climbing down fast the metal staircase and I’m alone once again. That’s why I jump when I hear a voice next to me, telling me he has something to tell me.

“Oh, my goodness!”

I turn just in time to see Aaron’s face turn from gravity to a hint of a smile, and then he bursts out laughing.

“I did scare you!”

I laugh too because it feels like he’s about to jump up and down in happiness, something that’s out of tune with his appearance. Suddenly, I realize that I have no idea as to how he found me.

“Hey, how did you know where I was?” I murmur, remembering that I’m not completely alone and I don’t want the guy from the bar to think I’m crazier than he already does.

“I don’t know. I just thought: ‘I need to see Natalia’, and I got here.” He looks around for a few seconds. “Why aren’t you in school, by the way?” I’m about to answer, but he interrupts me. “What happened?”

I don’t know how he figured it out; maybe it’s because that my eyes are still red for the teardrops, even when I didn’t cry for so long, or because I forgot to clean up the mascara. Or maybe I’m too self-conscious and he just wants to know why I’m not in school. Anyway, everything leads to the same answer and I’m not sure I’m able to talk about it right now.

“Nothing, I’m fine. It’s just that…”

“Did somebody hurt you?”

Agh, now I really think I have mascara all over my face.

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me why you were looking for me. Do you remember something?”

He looks at me hesitant. I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but if I’m sure about something is that he’s not going to say a word until I tell him what happened. I don’t even know why he cares so much.

“No, and what I was going to tell you doesn’t really matter right now. Just tell me what happened to you.”

“You don’t want to talk to boys with me.”