Читать книгу New directions - Diego Uribe - Страница 13

Chapter 6: First date

The next Monday, I went to the barbershop. I decided it was time for a makeover, a change. I really enjoy going to the barbershop, it gives me certain pleasure. I think it's really hard to find a hairdresser that actually does what you ask them to and how you'd like it. I also think that it's funny how the hairdresser, eventually, becomes a sort of therapist or confidant friend to whom you can talk to, share stuff about yourself, and even get advice. I think that a hairdresser and a therapist should be one person because that would save people a lot of money. It would also be a relief from all the tension in sessions and one would actually relax and enjoy it more. Anyway, when I got home, I took a selfie and uploaded it to the internet to see what people thought of my new look. Fran left a comment asking me if I was aware that I shouldn't do anything to my hair due to the show that we had coming up at the end of the year. I asked him if he liked it and I assured him that it would've already grown back by that time, so he didn't need to worry. Then he sent me a direct message with a series of numbers, also saying that social media was not the right place for us to talk anymore. He asked me to send him a message so that he could have my number and that way it would be easier for us to talk. I then understood that the series of numbers was in fact his cellphone number. He also told me that he was running out of battery, small detail. What was the use of sending him a message then? I told him it was useless if he had no battery, but he insisted I should text him in spite of that, he said he would borrow a charger. Anyway, I gave him my number just in case and later we were indeed talking. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. On the next day, he talked to me, and the next day, I did, and the next day, he talked to me again. As I said before, it wasn't much. Our conversations were basically “Hi” “How are you?” and “What are you doing?”, with their corresponding answers, and that was it. By Friday, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to talk about what had happened last Saturday, I couldn't let it go, I couldn't pretend that nothing had happened and just move on (could he?). So, in the middle of our conversation I asked him out on a date sometime over the next few days. He said yes, but not during the weekend because he was too busy, during the week in general actually; between work and the institute he didn't have much spare time. By the way, Fran works at a bakery. He told me at the party that night. Since then, I consider him my own Peeta Mellark***, isn't that romantic? He told me Monday was his day off and that we could do something then. So we agreed to talk on that same day and see what we came up with, and we didn't talk after that throughout the whole weekend.

And so it arrived, the so precious Monday, and his text arrived at around 3:00 p.m. He told me he was about to begin his singing lesson and I told him I also had my singing lesson but from 6:00 to 6:30 p.m. We agreed to talk then and do something later, after that. Luckily, time went by fast and so did my singing lesson and, at the end of it, we were texting again. He told me he had just got home after doing some assignment with a classmate of his, that he was kind of tired because he hadn't been home all day, and that he needed to take a shower and leave his stuff, but he still wanted to meet. As we talked, I also went back home to take a shower and change clothes (to get ready actually...) and also give him some time. I wanted to have a coffee, he wanted to get something to eat. It wasn't until 8:00 p.m. that we were both clean and almost ready, we got back to our conversation and we agreed to meet in an hour at the Olleros subway station, near his home (at least from what I knew) and not so far from mine either. There was a Starbucks in the corner in case we wanted coffee and a McDonald's right next to it if we wanted dinner. I, incredibly, arrived there on time. It was drizzling, which was the perfect weather to me. I stood there staring at the publicity signs and posters on the street until Fran arrived 20 minutes later. He apologized but I wasn't mad at him at all (at least not that much...). We got in the McDonald's and ordered, we both ordered the same burger (coincidence?). We looked for a table on the first floor and we found an empty one where we could talk. He started talking about himself while I started eating. I wasn't really hungry and, besides, my burger had dressings on it although I asked them not to put any, but I ate it anyway. Fran told me about his family, about the plays he had took part in (that I had already seen in pictures) and a little bit about his life before the institute and before moving to Buenos Aires. By the way, Fran is from Rosario, Santa Fe. I didn't talk much honestly, I would just nod and listen carefully. It's just that I'm not good at eating and talking at the same time, it takes a lot of effort for me to do those two things simultaneously. But Fran did it effortlessly, he would eat and talk without struggling. My fries were already cold so I only ate a few, but Fran would continue eating and telling me more about himself. His life was a pretty interesting chaos all in all, just like everyone else's life I guess. I'm the least appropriate person to say this... I liked listening to him, getting to know him and learn more about him. Every once in a while, Fran would ask me if I was bored or anything. Of course not! Time went flying by... I actually didn't check my watch while we were there, not even once, which is pretty odd for me given my chronophobia****. But I did realize that time had flown by when the security guard came to our table and told us that the place would be closing in 15 minutes and we would have to leave by then. How did time pass by so quickly? Had we really been there for 3 hours? It's not that I really cared about time, as long as I was with him... We left the restaurant and started walking towards his house. It was still drizzling and the temperature had dropped. During our walk, I was able to speak more, luckily. We walked a few blocks and suddenly Fran stopped.

“This is my home...” he said, staring at the building in front of us (Actually it was a dorm, but I think it's OK to call it “home'). “But I'll walk with you to the bus stop, which one do you have to take?” he asked me.

“I think the 68 bus passes nearby...”

“Hm, but it is the 68 that goes around the tunnel and not under it and I swear you could wait for hours and maybe it wouldn't even come... What about 15 or 29 bus? Do any of those work for you? The bus stop is on the next block” he told me.

“Oh, yes. 29 is great.”

“Good! Let's go then” he told me, putting his hand around my shoulder.

We walked one block just like he said and there was the stop for the 29 bus. Fran asked me about my life before the institute and I told him about my first year in Buenos Aires, when I studied cinematography and all that while we waited for the bus. I saw it coming (the bus) and I didn't want to say goodbye. I could keep talking to him all night... but the bus stopped right next to me and the doors opened.

“Well...” I said, starting to leave.

Fran grabbed me by both of my shoulders and looked me right in the eyes with a big smile on his face.

“Good night” he said, and with that said he leaned his lips upon mine in a sweet delicate kiss. “Let me know when you get home.”

“Good night” I said almost breathless, suddenly feeling dumb and my face blushing.

I got on the bus, leaving Fran behind. A lot of things were stuck on my mind during the bus trip and I felt a quite annoying buzz in my stomach. Maybe hunger had struck me all of a sudden, who knows? Once I got home, I pulled out my cellphone to let Fran know that I had arrived safe and sound, but I found out I had no service, lucky me! I lied in bed waiting for my service to return but that didn't happen, and Fran would most likely be asleep already. I was so mad because of my stupid cellphone but, in spite of that, I went to sleep with a very pleasant feeling.

He got my message on the next day. I explained to him that I had no service when I got home and he told me it was okay, he didn't have a problem with that. He told me that he had had a great time last night and asked me if I also had had a great time despite the fact that he had talked too much. I told him that I did, in spite of that I did have a great time with him. I didn't want to bother him so we didn't talk after that. I let a few days pass by, waiting for him to text me and, if he wanted to, ask me out on a second date, but that didn't happen. In fact, we didn't talk for a week. During that time, Fran told me he had been too busy between the institute and his job, and now we also had to work on the annual showcase, which meant rehearsals and extracurricular work. It would be complicated to meet or see each other, but he promised to stay in touch and not to ghost me. By the end of November, he told me he had quit his job because he was planning to spend the summer holidays with his family in Rosario. I assumed it was a good thing because maybe it also meant that he would have more free time and maybe we would get to see each other, but the truth is that the annual showcase kept both of us pretty busy. Our conversations went back to the way they were before, they were just to check that the other was fine and, if we had any updates, we would tell each other. He told me that his singing professor had recommended him for an audition, and he was very happy about that, and I was happy for him too.

Then December arrived, with stage rehearsals in which I got to see him again, but we were distant because we were focused on doing things right for the showcase and, besides, every professor and student was there, so we would never find a moment to be alone. The showcase was an amazing experience, it was the cherry on top of a beautiful year. It was at the El Nacional theatre, a huge and very picturesque theatre on Calle Corrientes, right in the heart of downtown. We had two performances in which you could almost feel the art, and also a lot of energy and adrenaline, where each of us got to shine and give our best, and share what we had learnt and worked on throughout the year. The truth is I really enjoyed it... even though we only participated in two numbers; I think that made it even more enjoyable. Fran also stood out, he was gorgeous. When the curtain closed right after the second performance, everyone started congratulating one another, jumping, cheering, clapping and hugging. Fran appeared in the middle of the crowd. His eyes glowed when he saw me, and he broke through people to get to me. He took me by the hands and then gave me a tight hug.

“I love you” he said.

“I love you too” I replied very excited.

The two of us kept greeting people and I lost him again in the crowd. I was very satisfied with my work and how I progressed during the year. I felt accomplished and, at the same time, I felt this huge void because everything was over now and another year had gone by, my chronophobia striking again. We only had one week left at the institute, during which we would mostly say goodbye to our professors, and they would give us some feedback on everyone's progress over the year. I always hated goodbyes, and I didn't want Fran and I to say goodbye, I didn't want him to leave to Rosario, as selfish as that may sound...