Raquel laughs. “What are you doing?”
I take it off and put it on her, buttoning it up. My shirt fits her so well. “Lie down, you’ll get over it if you get some sleep.”
“No, I’m not sleepy.” She puts her arms across her chest like a spoiled child. “Tell me a story.”
“Just lie down.”
“No.”
She looks determined. I force her to lie down, and I sit next to her, leaning my back against the headboard.
“Tell me a story,” she repeats. She sticks to my side, running her hand across my abdomen, hugging me, and I let her because it feels fucking good to have her beside me. I caress her hair, deciding what to say.
She’s not going to remember this tomorrow. The freedom of being able to tell her anything motivates me, and I start talking. “Once upon a time there was a boy who believed his parents were the perfect couple, that their home was the best in the world.” I smile to myself. “A very naive child.”
She gets closer to me, her nose brushing against my ribs. “And what happened to that child?”
“The boy admired his father, he was his pillar, his example to follow. A strong, successful man. Everything was perfect, maybe too perfect. The father traveled a lot for business, leaving his children and wife alone.” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “One day, the boy came home early from school, after getting an A on a difficult math test. He ran upstairs to show her, he wanted her to be proud of him. When he entered her room . . .”
White sheets, naked bodies.
I push the images out of my mind.
“The boy’s mother was with another man who was not his father. After that, everything dissolved into meaningless explanations, pleas, and tears, but for the boy it all sounded so far away. The sense of his home, of the perfect family, vanished in front of his eyes no matter what his mother said.”
I stop in the hope that Raquel is already asleep, but she’s not. “Go on, I want to know what’s next,” she says.
“The boy told his older brother, and they waited for their father to get home to tell him. After a lot of arguments and empty threats, the father forgave her. The two children watched their father bow down, forget his pride, and cry inconsolably in the darkness of his study. That strong man looked weak and wounded. Since that day, their father has tirelessly reminded them that falling in love makes them weak. The boy learned not to trust anyone, not to get attached to anyone, not to give anyone the power to weaken him, and so he grew up hoping to be alone forever. The end.”
I look at the girl next to me and her eyes are closed, but she still responds. “What a sad ending.”
“Life can be sadder than it seems.”
“I don’t like that ending,” she grunts. “I’ll imagine that in the end he did meet someone, and they fell in love and lived happily ever after.”
I burst out laughing. “Of course you will, Witch.”
“I’m sleepy.”
“Then sleep.”
“Ares?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think love is a weakness?”
Her question doesn’t surprise me. “It is.”
“Is that why you’ve never fallen in love?”
“Who said I’ve never been in love?”
“Have you?”
I sigh and look at her. “I think so.”
Her breathing has become light, and her eyes are closed. She’s finally asleep. I smile like an idiot, watching her. Seeing her sleep fills me with peace.
What are you doing to me, Witch?
TWENTY-SEVEN
The Second Awakening
- Raquel -
Cold.
I wake up, shivering. I open my eyes with a groan. The light stings as it hits my vision, forcing me to squint. Why is it so cold? I don’t remember turning on the air-conditioning.
The first thing I see is a shelf full of sports trophies and awards, which confuses me. I don’t have that in my room. As the picture clears in front of me, I realize that’s because I’m not in my room.
“What?” I sit up with a jolt, and my head throbs in protest. “Ow!”
I hold my forehead, and my stomach growls unsteadily. Where the fuck am I? As if karma wants to answer, something—or rather someone—moves a little next to me.
Terrified, I turn my face to look, and a muffled shriek leaves my lips as I roll backward on the bed with a thud and fall to the floor. “Ow!” I say again.
Shit, shit.
I poke my face just above the bed and confirm it.
It’s Ares Hidalgo, in all his glory, lying on his back, with his forearm over his face. The sheets cover him from his waist down, leaving his chest and abdomen exposed, since he’s shirtless.
Instinctively, I look down and realize that I have his shirt on.
“Oh! Crap!” I hold my face dramatically.
What the hell happened? I was so determined not to fall this time.
Let’s see, think, Raquel. Remember, think.
Everything is scattered in my brain like a jigsaw puzzle with blurry, missing parts. The last thing I remember is being with Dani, Apolo, Carlos, and Yoshi. Then Yoshi and I went upstairs. Were we going to the bathroom?
Argh!
And then Ares. . . on the balcony . . .
And then nothing, emptiness, darkness.
How frustrating!
Surprisingly, falling into his arms again is not what bothers me the most, but rather this very unpleasant feeling of not being able to remember everything. Did we have sex? Honestly, I don’t think Ares would have done anything to me if I was that drunk.
I need to get out of here. I stand up and the room spins, so I take a deep breath. Ares is still the same, with his forearm over his eyes, his lips half-open and his chest exposed.
My shoes . . .
My clothes . . .
They must be somewhere.
What time is it?
Dani must be so worried! It was a good decision to tell Mom that I would stay at Dani’s yesterday, otherwise I would be in real trouble. The still sleeping part of my brain reaches for my cell phone, and then my brain wakes up and slaps me.
It was stolen weeks ago, Raquel, wake up.
I walk around, crouched down, without finding any of my clothes, but what—where are my clothes? They should be somewhere around if we undressed here, or did I undress somewhere else and then come in here? Oh my goodness. I notice an open door to my right to what looks like a bathroom, so I walk in. My clothes are on the floor next to the tub.
A feeling of relief runs through my body. I no longer have to go out on the street with only a boy’s shirt on. I close the door and pick up my white flowered T-shirt, but the smell of vomit hits my nose and makes me grimace.
Vomit?
Did I vomit? Oh Jesus Christ. What the fuck happened last night?
There’s no way I can wear that shirt. The skirt is in no better condition, but I just wash the little bits of vomit off in the sink. I can’t leave wearing only Ares’s shirt and nothing underneath. The damp skirt doesn’t help with the cold, and I shiver again, but I manage to brush my teeth with my fingers.
Yoshi. Oh no. The memory of trying to use him last night pops up in fragmented pieces in my mind. I have to apologize to him.
Walking back into the room, I allow myself to look at Ares again. His naked, white torso contrasts with the blue of the sheets. I stare at him, fighting the urge to throw myself on him and kiss every uncovered part of his body and feel his skin.
Focus, Raquel.
With all the caution in the world, I grab the doorknob quietly, but when I try to turn it, it won’t budge. What? I try harder and it won’t open. I check the knob and realize that it doesn’t have a button to lock it, just a hole where a key goes.
It’s locked. Why?
“Are you looking for this?”
His voice makes me jump. I turn, and, to my surprise, he’s sitting on the bed with his hand in the air, holding the keys. I hate that I like his face so much that it makes me shake. He has an amused smile on his face.
“Why is it locked?” I ask.
“There was a party here last night, remember?” There’s a certain hesitancy in his voice. “I didn’t want anyone to come in and bother us.”
I try to swallow but my throat is dry. “You and I . . . I mean . . . did we, you know?”