My afternoon was a disaster. I wanted to think, but I was too nervous to talk to Rafael. How could he have hidden that from me? Ludmila had always had the power to hurt me. I loved her friendship, and losing a friend is the worst feeling in the world. Being around someone who gave you incredible moments, knowing it would only ever be memories… it was an intense pain.
Many nights I stood in front of the mirror, tears marking my face, asking, "What did I do so wrong for her to just disappear from my life?" I trusted her! She knew everything about my life, and my family considered her part of us. It made no sense.
I spent the afternoon in the library, surrounded by textbooks for my classes, but I couldn't absorb a thing. The tiny booth was hot, doorless, with just a table, a bench, and a huge window overlooking the campus. I gave up on reading and put on my headphones. That's when I noticed Rafael's message:
"We need to talk."
It was true—we did. I shoved my books in my bag and typed back:
"I'm on my way!"
When I walked through the door, he was sitting on the couch, TV off, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his chin, deep in thought. I took a deep breath and sat beside him. Rafael turned his head, still thoughtful, then adjusted his posture.
"I knew you'd react like this if you knew," he said, annoyed with himself. "That's why I didn't say anything."
"I thought we didn't hide anything from each other," I argued, trying to control my nerves, though my expression gave me away. "That was our promise, remember?"
"I know, Aza… but I saw you so excited and happy these past few days," he swallowed hard, uneasy, "why ruin that with memories from the past?"
"Was that why you didn't go to your freshman party?" I asked, trying to understand him. "Is she the reason you barely talk about your friends? That you didn't introduce us?"
He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable."She's different now, Aza," he said, a little resentful, "like she used to be, like we knew her. Everyone likes her, including Paloma and Thomas, who invited her to our project group."
I was surprised. I pulled my legs up onto the couch, hugging them to my chest, my heart racing.
"You talked to her?" I asked, trying to sound neutral, though I knew the answer would affect me.
"We talked on the first day and during the initiation events."
I looked at him with hope."Did she talk about me?"
He shook his head. I understood—he was trying to prevent past memories from ruining the moment. My reason said this; my heart, however, screamed: The problem is you!
Rafa wasn't to blame for our distance. Ludmila had always treated him with indifference; with me, it was different. When I provoked her, it was the perfect moment she needed to torment me.
"Aza?" he said, placing his hand on my knee. His touch was firm but gentle, and it made my chest warm. "I don't know why I pointed her out at lunch, but please, don't let it affect you."
"I'm not 'affected,' Rafa," I shrugged. "It's just complicated. Ludmila always has been, and it seems she always will be, a mystery. Just don't hide anything from me anymore, okay?"
He smiled and pulled me to lie against his chest. His scent—a mix of powder and subtle cologne—calmed me instantly. I missed Ludmila, but Rafael was everything I had lost with her. My safe place. Fighting or being upset with him was almost impossible.
"So?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "What did you think of Matt?"
"Your hookup?" he teased, seeing my offended expression and relenting. "Lorena said it, not me."
"Lorena says so many things," I sighed, remembering her blunders. "She called me a little naughty in front of him!"
"When he sees your video with Chew, he'll be sure," he laughed, amused.
"You're crazy…"
"Videos can leak or be sent by accident," he said, with that guilty look that made me bite my lip in embarrassment.
I gasped and covered my eyes."He'll never want to look at me again."
"Judging by how he asked about you after you ran off, I don't believe that," he replied, turning to grab the remote and turning on the TV.
Curiosity got the better of me. I sat on the floor in front of him, at the coffee table, and asked about Matt. Rafael laughed at my endless questions.
"Guy stuff, but he seemed really nice. Mature mind, which helps a lot in your case," he explained, making me roll my eyes. "Despite his flaws, he's still interested in you." His voice was low, as if weighing each word.
I smiled, excited."He told you that?"
"I think the way you two look at each other shows it." A crooked smile appeared briefly before he looked down. "I've never seen you look at anyone like that." He glanced at me for a moment, almost hesitant. "You really like him, don't you?"
I composed myself, trying not to seem silly. I didn't want anyone to think I was interested in someone in the first week. I needed to play hard to get, like Paige in Forever.
"Of course not!" I said casually, heading to the fridge. "If he wants anything with me, he's going to have to work for it." I swayed my hips, making Rafael laugh. "Tell him that!"
But Matheus didn't make it easy; that same night, he called me. He said he got my number from Lorena since I had run off from the restaurant, and he didn't have time to ask me himself.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern, almost a whisper.
"Yes… I'm fine. I just needed some time alone," I replied, trying to sound calm, though my heart raced.
"Good…" he sighed, a soft sound that made me shiver. "After what happened, I figured you'd need time to process it all."
"Some things are out of our control, and that's okay," I said. "Don't worry. I've learned to handle it."
"Like the fact that you're talking to me now…" he said, lighter, teasing. "Who would've thought?"
I bit my lips, remembering the morning, feeling a rush of heat.
"Do you do this with all the girls you see? Or just the Cinderellas who run off without explanation?" I teased.
"I'm no Prince Charming, Strange Girl," he said honestly. "I'm more like the Big Bad Wolf."
I furrowed my brow, laughing confused."Why?"
He paused, sending a shiver down my spine."One step at a time…" he said, firm, but with that hoarseness that took my breath away.
"Ooooh, mysterious!" I gasped.
"That's my charm; otherwise, I'd cross the line, and instead of a call, I'd be there." His voice was low, husky, and intense, sending heat through my body.
"You wouldn't dare…" I said, laughing, feeling my body respond before my brain did.
I heard his short, teasing laugh."I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7 a.m., Strange Girl," he said, firm. "Don't be late."
And he hung up.
I sat for a few minutes staring at the phone, trying to process, heart racing, fingers still gripping it, my whole body tingling with a mix of frustration and anticipation.
The next morning, I woke up as usual, got ready, and put on my sunglasses. Leaving the building with Rafa, I saw Matheus leaning against a bike across the street, that suggestive smile on his face. He grabbed the bike and rode over to us, stopping right in front of me.
"So, this is it?" I crossed my arms, annoyed. "You hang up on me and show up here with that irritating smile?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at me, and something in the silence pulled me like a magnet. When his cold fingers brushed the back of my neck, a shiver stole my breath. Then his lips met mine—light, almost shy—leaving a taste of coffee and mint in my mouth. I froze, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, wordlessly begging for more.
"Good morning, Strange Girl!" he whispered in my ear, making my whole body tingle.
I opened my eyes to his mischievous smile. My God… I was going to lose my mind like this. But Matt knew exactly how to provoke me. Rafa, awkward, broke the moment.
"I'll go ahead," he said, turning away.
I looked at Matt and lightly tapped his chest."Idiot!" I muttered, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.
"You won't get rid of me that easily, little flower," he said, reaching for my bag. "Better get used to it."
I raised an eyebrow and handed him the bag. He slung it over his shoulder, grabbed the bike, and we walked together to Rafa, the delicious tension lingering in the air.
Matheus walked me to the classroom, where he kissed my forehead gently to say goodbye. We had lunch together, and that afternoon he went to his internship at the contemporary art museum. Since his schedule was hectic and he couldn't always accompany me in the morning, we agreed that, besides lunch, he would call me before bed.
It was when we hung up that night I realized: it wasn't him stealing my breath. It was me, tripping over every step, giving in without noticing—as if fate had already decided for me.