"Leoooo," said a high-pitched, annoyed, irritating voice. It wasn't Aina's. It was that of someone with whom I had never exchanged more than three words in my life.
I didn't answer. I didn't feel like it at all. But she kept insisting, over and over again, piercing my ear like a smoke alarm. In the end, I accepted reality: if I didn't answer it, my patience would be the first to die.
I raised my head for the second time in the day and looked at her. I only needed one word to describe it: geek. He carried an RPG pin in his backpack, hanging as if it were a holy relic. I had to admit that I played that game too at a time when my existence was much simpler... but I wasn't going to give him that pleasure.
"Don't look at me like that, you disgust me," I blurted out, looking away as if only his pin had caught my attention.
She frowned.
"What do you want?" I asked, dry as a brick.
She sighed, resigned, clearly irritated by my coldness.
We had known each other for years. My mother was a friend of her parents, so from time to time we had coincided at family gatherings. It never caught my attention in any way. In fact, I didn't like him quite much, although he never knew why.
"I want to talk to you about something," he said finally.
"I can't. I have things to do.
"At recess?" She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. I doubt it.
"I have to go..." "I wasn't going to tell him that I needed sugar so I wouldn't fall round. Giving details about my life has never been a good idea— ... To get a book. Home.
She looked at me as if she didn't believe a single word.
"Oh, sure, yes. A book. Super urgent," he replied sarcastically.
But he added nothing else. He just folded his arms, waiting for me to take the next step.
And, unfortunately for me... she didn't seem willing to give up so easily.
"And what do you want to talk about?" I leaned back in my chair, letting the weight of my head fall between my hands. The gesture might seem interested, but in reality it was just tiredness... and I want him to leave me alone.
"I can't tell you now... Better when we're alone," she replied, looking away as if the wall were suddenly fascinating.
That gesture put me on alert. I didn't like it. Was he going to let loose some romantic nonsense? To ask me for an absurd favor? I wish I knew this person well, so I could anticipate his intentions... but it was not the case. Nor would it be.
"Leave me alone," I snapped, burying my head in my arms again.
"I'll wait for you on the bench on the first floor, next to the teachers' room," he said at the end, and left for his desk without waiting for an answer.
I was surprised at how easy it seemed for her to decipher the way I spoke... or not to speak. It was strange. Unexpected.
Comfortable, even.
As if my senses were tuned to capture any movement, I heard Aina's chair move smoothly. He must have turned to look at me... or to tell me something.
But I didn't move. I didn't feel like facing another conversation.
***
The teacher left the classroom, officially marking the start of recess. In a matter of seconds, everyone woke up with the enthusiasm typical of someone who believes they have major problems. They took their tupperware, their sandwiches, their drinks... and they left in a group, like animals migrating according to the season.
"Aina, let's go watch the boys play soccer," said one of her new friends.
"Yes, let's go!" I want to see Hugo score a goal..." added another, practically melting like a hottie in the sun.
"How disgusting..." I murmured as I left class without looking back.
I didn't feel like going talk to... hey...
Shit.
I had forgotten his name.
Once again.
I went downstairs and arrived at the meeting point. She wasn't there yet, so I sat on the bench in the hallway and crossed my legs to be half comfortable. While I waited, a couple of men in suits walked by. Elegant. Too elegant for a high school.
One of them turned his head. His black glasses prevented me from seeing his eyes, but I still felt his gaze fix on me. That same chill ran down my spine again, identical to the one a few nights ago.
Standing on end.
Body in tension.
Heart racing for two, exactly, seconds.
I stood up without thinking, ready to... for something. I didn't know what. But just as he was about to call out to her, she appeared, erasing any previous thoughts at once.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he murmured, clasping his hands together as if praying for forgiveness. Was... busy.
"I won't wait for you next time," I said, my mind still stuck on the men in suits.
"God... "How nice you are," he replied disdainfully. Anyway... I'll tell you what I wanted to tell you.
He cleared his throat and placed an unruly strand behind his ear.
"By the way," he said, crossing his arms, "I'm Nara. Since I see that it is difficult for you to remember it... or that you don't care at all.
I didn't say anything. I just looked at her. She rolled her eyes.
"Let's see," he continued, leaning a little toward me. It's about... well, about your neighborhood. I heard my parents talking the other day. They said that lately there are strange people roaming the streets and that there have apparently been riots at night. That they are looking for someone.
My heart gave a strange blow.
Anyone?
"I don't know if you care," Nara continued, oblivious to my thoughts, "but since we live relatively close I thought that... I don't know, it was better to tell you something than to keep it quiet. I had the feeling that you were going to need it.
He shrugged. As if he had not said anything important. As if he hadn't just dropped a bomb that could fit too well with what I already knew... and what I was trying to ignore.
"Anyway," he added, taking a step back, "that was the 'important issue.' Don't get excited.
He stared at me, waiting for my reaction. Silence.
At that moment, almost paralyzed by fear, I improvised a performance that I didn't even believe myself.
"Thanks for telling me, huh..." Nara," I managed to say, forcing a tight smile as my mind desperately searched for an excuse. It's just that... Lately I feel very insecure. I'm afraid that they will do something to me.
Nara blinked, surprised by my sudden change in attitude.
"Are you bipolar or what?" He joked, cocking his head with a half-smile that didn't quite hide his curiosity. But, well... it's okay. I also don't mind going back alone at night.
Everything was silent for a few moments, until Nara's ringtone broke the calm of the place, turning it into a noisy and annoying space. He took out his cell phone, answered reluctantly and, after a few seconds, said goodbye to me with a slight wave of his hand before disappearing down the corridor. I was left alone. Too lonely.
Suddenly, a door slammed through the corridor, making me give a little start. I had never heard a blow like that in high school. It sounded too loud, too violent. I tried to convince myself that it was the fault of the wind that had been whipping the windows all day.
I approached the vending machine with the real intention of getting something sweet that would wake me up. There was something almost hypnotic about the dim light on the front panel; In the midst of the silence, the mechanical hum was, curiously, comforting.
"What a rascal...?" I thought as I slid my finger through the glass, scrolling through the catalog of sugar disguised in garish colors. In the end, I decided on a pack of gummies with picapica. I inserted the coins. The motor vibrated and the product fell with a sharp blow.
Just then I heard footsteps. They stopped behind me. The sound of the package opening was the last thing that filled the silence before one of them spoke.
"Leo?" A male voice asked.
I didn't turn around. I didn't want to do it. I knew—or thought I knew—who they were, and I preferred not to confirm it. I didn't answer. Waited.
A few seconds later, just as he had imagined, the other spoke:
"Don't fail him. His tone left no room for doubt: there was no kind warning, only a threat disguised as advice.
"I don't know who Leo is," I replied, although I knew perfectly well that saying that was useless. They knew who I was. I knew who they were.
They did not add anything else. They walked away with that carefree step that only those who feel untouchable have, although each one had a hand hidden inside his jacket, alert in case someone dared to contradict them.
I swallowed hard. My legs were responding, but barely. With the bag of jelly beans still in my hand, I made my way back to class, trying to ignore the tremor that ran through my fingers.
When I arrived, everyone was sitting, listening to the professor as if nothing had happened. When was recess over? I hadn't even heard the doorbell. That's great. Another detail that escapes me.
I advanced to my place under the curious looks—or criticisms—of some. I didn't care. I slumped into the chair and opened the packet of jelly beans as quietly as I could.
"Well, as I told you last week, I'll announce the groups for the project today," the professor said, flipping through a list.
Oh, right. The project. What a wonderful day.
"Good. First group: Iker and Jasmine. Second group...
Almost without realizing it, I had already devoured the entire package. Anxiety had done its job without asking permission. I felt empty. Hungry, even, despite having swallowed the sugar as if it were air.
"And finally: Leo and Aina."
How!? My body reacted before my brain did. I stood up suddenly, my hands hitting the table and a couple of heads turned with a start.
"What's happening to you now, Leo?" The teacher asked, crossing her arms, prepared for an absurd excuse.
"N—" "Nothing," I replied, looking down and sitting down again. I turned to the window as if the landscape could swallow me up and pull me out of there.
I felt Aina's gaze fixed on me. How funny. Surely inside he was throwing his hands to his head. To her he was just "a nasty person," wasn't he? Well, it's not that people today think something too different.
The class ended with murmurs and the heavy dragging of chairs against the floor. I didn't move until almost everyone was out. Better that way. Fewer eyes. Fewer lawsuits.
But Aina did not come out. Of course not.
She approached slowly, her hands clasped behind her back, as if trying not to look too interested... or too uncomfortable.
"Leo," he said finally.
"What?" I replied without looking at her.
"We can do it quickly, if you want. The project, I say.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. It seems that he was waiting for me to drop some edge comment. It was my personal brand, after all.
"Do what you want," I muttered as I put my things away.
She frowned slightly.
—It's a work in pairs... I can't do it all by myself.
That touched my patience a little.
"I didn't say you're going to do it yourself, either."
"You didn't say anything useful," she said, with a sincerity that took me by surprise.
I looked at her straight for the first time. His eyes had neither disgust nor pity. Alone... weariness. And a little determination.
"Okay," I sighed. What do you want to do?
That seemed to baffle her.
"Really... Are you collaborating? She asked, surprised.
"Don't get used to it.
Aina let out a very small, almost involuntary laugh.
"Well... We can meet today after class. The computer room is usually free.
"I can't today," I replied. Too fast.
Aina raised an eyebrow. "Important plans?
I couldn't help but remember the men in suits I saw or more than 10 minutes ago.
"Yes, of course. Wonderful plans." Thought.
"I have—" things," I said, dodging.
She sighed, tired but not angry.
"Tomorrow then. And if you can't either... You tell me without jumping in my face, okay?
Something in his tone disarmed me. It wasn't an attack. Not a trial. Just an honest request.
I nodded.
The fight was not today, but tomorrow. Today I just didn't feel like having to deal with anyone. I needed to prepare myself mentally, to put my ideas in order before facing what was coming. Besides, I had already asked my coach for a couple of extra lessons—with the absurd excuse of "practicing for tournaments"—even though we both knew it had nothing to do with it.
As I put my things away, my eyes returned again and again, as if by inertia, to the color of Aina's hair. That tone impossible to ignore. Was it dyed? Natural? Any genetic oddities? He didn't know it, but he admitted internally that it suited him. Ridiculously well. I always wanted to dye my hair as a child, but my mother never allowed it. "You'll look like a criminal," he said. Ironies of life.
I was lost in that thought when the classroom door burst open.
The sound echoed throughout the class, crashing against the walls as if someone had thrown a metal object. The director rushed in, almost tripping over the frame. He was sweating, his glasses crooked and his tie badly on, as if he had adjusted it in a hurry.
The remaining students stopped talking instantly. That was not normal. The director always walked as if he were carrying a book on his head: straight, orderly, rigid. But now... He seemed to be someone different. Someone who tried not to lose his temper.
"Boys," he began, but his voice trembled and he had to clear his throat. Guys, I need you to pack your things and leave the building immediately.
Absolute silence. Even I looked up.
"Why, director?" Someone asked from the back.
The man took a deep breath, swallowed hard and dropped his hands at his sides as if carrying that announcement was too heavy for him.
"There have been... a gas leak in one of the classrooms," he said at last, although the sentence came out rushed, without conviction. Nothing serious, but we must evacuate so that they can... reform the affected area. It is urgent.
He said the latter so quickly that his words almost got stuck.
A restless murmur ran through the classroom. Some got up immediately, others hesitated. The director looked at everyone, as if he needed to verify that we were really moving.
His nervousness was palpable. His fingers trembled as he adjusted his glasses. He looked down the hallway every few seconds, as if hoping — or fearing — that someone would show up.
"Come on, hurry," he insisted. No staying in the corridors. Walk straight out of the building.
Not a joke, not a paternal tone, not his usual dry calm. Nothing. Something was wrong. Too bad.
Aina came up to me, her backpack already on her shoulder.
"You've noticed it too, haven't you?" He whispered.
"Yes," I replied without thinking.
Because of course he had noticed. That kind of fear is not interpreted: it is recognized. Especially when you've seen it before.
I put my phone away, hung up my backpack and walked to the door. As I passed the director, I could see up close the sweat running down his temple. It wasn't just stress. It was pure panic, poorly concealed.
"And you don't want to know why," I thought. Because I did have a suspicion. Too clear.
But I didn't say anything.
I just kept moving forward.