November - Faculty cafeteria.
They ran into each other again in the coffee line on a Wednesday morning. This time the conversation was inevitable because there were only two free tables and both had a free hour.
"Here or to go?" asked the waitress.
"To go," said Laura.
"Here," said Marcos.
They looked at each other.
"I'm cold," Laura explained. "It's freezing outside."
"Me too."
"Then here," said Laura.
The waitress rolled her eyes and gave them their coffees.
They sat at a small table, too small for two people who supposedly didn't like each other.
"How's the Civil Law paper going?" asked Marcos.
"Almost done. Did you review what I sent you?"
"Yes, it's good. Very good, actually."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Don't get used to it."
Laura smiled around her cup.
"You know what's weird? That we work so well together."
"It's not that weird. We're both competent."
"And stubborn."
"That too."
Silence. Laura stirred her coffee.
"Hey, why did you come to Law school if you're from Barcelona? There are good universities there."
Marcos took a while to respond.
"I wanted to leave home. See the world. Madrid is different."
"And do you like it?"
"It has its charm. Though I miss the beach."
"The beach?" Laura made a face. "I'm more of a mountain person. The beach is sand in uncomfortable places and sunburns."
"It's the sea. It's freedom."
"The mountains are freedom too."
"It's not the same."
"You're right. It's better."
Marcos smiled in spite of himself.
"Impossible to get along with you."
"You're not easy either."
But they kept talking. For the entire free hour and beyond.
December - Retiro, Saturday afternoon.
Inés had gotten back together with Dani after a month of "we need space." Laura saw it coming from miles away and wasn't surprised when her friend called with a "we all need to meet up."
"No," said Laura.
"Please," Inés begged. "Dani wants to hang out with Marcos."
"And what do I have to do with that?"
"Moral support."
"Find yourself another moral support."
"Laura, please. I owe you one. I owe you a thousand."
So there Laura was, walking through Retiro in December, with her second-hand coat and her Sex Pistols scarf, waiting for the other three to appear.
Marcos arrived with Dani, in his black coat (which was definitely from Zara but looked good on him, Laura had to admit) and a blue and red scarf.
"Nice scarf," said Marcos pointing at Laura's.
"Thanks. Yours is horrible."
"It's Barça."
"Exactly. That's why it's disgusting."
Inés and Dani walked ahead, leaving them alone again. It seemed to be their constant strategy.
"You knew this was going to happen, right?" said Laura.
"I suspected it when Dani told me Inés was going to be there."
"They're pathetic. They don't know what to do to get us together."
"Completely a waste of time, right?"
They walked in silence for a while. Retiro was beautiful with autumn leaves covering the paths.
"What are your plans for Christmas?" asked Marcos.
"Stay here. Rest. My family does quiet Christmases. You?"
"Going back to Barcelona. My mother would kill me if I didn't go."
"How obedient."
"How alone you're going to be."
Laura shrugged.
"I like Madrid at Christmas. No tourists. Quiet. Much better without you."
"Don't you like to travel?"
"I love to travel. But I also like my home. I enjoy both equally."
"I need to move around," said Marcos. "See new places. Meet people. Every summer I go somewhere different. If I stay put and don't move, my family looks for a girlfriend for me so I won't move anymore. They almost succeeded once with a girl from high school."
"Of course, free spirit and all that."
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Because it sounds like an excuse from someone who doesn't know what they want."
Marcos stopped.
"And do you know what you want?"
Laura looked at him directly.
"Yes. I want to finish my degree, do a master's, work in international law. I want an apartment in Lavapiés, travel twice a year, have plants that don't die on me. I want concrete things."
"How boring. A gray life."
"How realistic. A life without shocks."
But Marcos didn't say it with bad intention this time. He said it with something like admiration.
"Not everyone can be so sure of themselves."
"You don't seem very insecure either, Marcos."
"It's a facade." Marcos put his hands in his pockets. "Inside I have no idea what I'm doing."
Laura looked at him surprised. It was the first time Marcos admitted something like that.
"Well," she said, "welcome to the club. We're all faking it."
Marcos smiled.
"You too?"
"Me too."
They kept walking. Their hands brushed once, twice. Neither said anything.
December - Faculty, last day before Christmas.
On the last day of classes before vacation, there was a party at the faculty. Bad music, Christmas lights, and punch that tasted awful. Laura went because Inés dragged her. Marcos went because Dani convinced him.
They found each other by the drinks table.
"Hi," said Laura.
"Hi."
"The punch is horrible."
"Terrible."
"Why are we still here?"
"No idea."
They laughed. Laura was wearing a red sweater with a reindeer. Marcos was wearing a blue shirt that made his eyes look lighter.
"Nice sweater," he said.
"It's horrible. My grandmother gave it to me."
"It's... festive."
"It's a crime against fashion."
"But it looks good on you."
Laura looked at him. Was that a compliment?
"Thanks, I guess."
Someone put on Christmas carols and people started dancing. Laura made a face.
"I hate Christmas carols."
"Me too."
"Want to go outside?"
"Please."
They went out to the terrace. It was cold but the air was refreshing after the suffocating heat inside.
"When are you leaving for Barcelona?" asked Laura.
"Tomorrow morning. What are you going to do here alone?"
"Read. Watch movies. Sleep late. Basically be a hermit."
"Sounds good."
"It is."
Marcos looked at her.
"Won't you miss anyone?"
Laura shrugged.
"Inés, I guess. Though she's also going to her hometown."
"And me?"
Laura looked at him surprised.
"What? You?"
"Nothing, it was a joke."
But it didn't sound like a joke.
Laura moved a little closer.
"Maybe a little."
"Maybe?"
"Well, you've become less unbearable."
"You too."
They looked at each other. The music from inside sounded muffled. Marcos took a step toward Laura.
"Laura..."
"Yes?"
But then Inés came out to the terrace yelling something about more punch and the moment broke.
January - Text message, Three Kings Day.
At three in the afternoon on Three Kings Day, while Laura was in pajamas watching a movie marathon, her phone vibrated.
"Marcos: Happy Three Kings Day, water dog."
Laura smiled.
"Laura: Happy Three Kings Day, good boy. How's Barcelona?"
"Marcos: Too many family meals. Too many questions about my love life. Madrid?"
"Laura: Quiet. Boring. Perfect."
"Marcos: Sounds horrible."
"Laura: It is."
"Marcos: I'm coming back the day after tomorrow."
"Laura: Ok."
"Marcos: Want to meet up?"
Laura looked at the message for a full minute.
"Laura: What for?"
"Marcos: I don't know. To have coffee. To talk. Whatever."
"Laura: Okay."
"Marcos: Okay?"
"Laura: Okay."
"Marcos: Okay?"
"Laura: Okay already!!! Annoying!!!"
January - Café in Malasaña, Sunday afternoon.
They met at a hipster café that both found pretentious but was halfway between their houses. Marcos arrived with his hair tousled by the wind. Laura wore her old coat and ripped jeans.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
They sat by the window. They ordered two coffees.
"How were the holidays?" asked Laura.
"Good. Intense. My grandmother keeps asking when I'm going to settle down."
"You're nineteen."
"Exactly." Marcos stirred his coffee. "And you?"
"Good. Quiet. I watched a lot of movies."
"Which ones?"
"Mainly Tarantino. And some classics. Casablanca. Some Almodóvar."
"You like Almodóvar?"
"I love Almodóvar."
"Me too."
"See? We can agree on something."
Marcos smiled.
"Christmas miracles."
They kept talking. About movies, about music, about university. At some point, Laura mentioned she'd been thinking about doing Erasmus.
"Where?" asked Marcos.
"I don't know. Brussels maybe. Or Amsterdam."
"When?"
"Third year, probably."
"Ah."
There was a strange silence.
"Would you do Erasmus?" asked Laura.
"I hadn't thought about it. But maybe. It would be a good experience."
"Yes."
Another silence.
"Hey," said Marcos suddenly, "what are we doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"This. Us. Are we friends?"
Laura thought about it.
"I don't know. Do you want us to be friends?"
"I don't know."
They looked at each other. There was something in the air, something neither wanted to name.
"We could try," Laura finally said.
"We could."
"But without obligations. Without pressure."
"Without Inés and Dani trying to set us up."
"Exactly."
"Done."
They shook hands across the table. It was absurd and formal and they both laughed.
January - Classmate's house, back from vacation party.
Laura didn't want to go to the party, but Inés had threatened to show up at her house and physically drag her, so there she was, with a warm beer in her hand, listening to reggaeton at a criminal volume.
She saw Marcos on the terrace, alone, looking at his phone.
She surprised herself by going out to find him.
"Escaping the party?"
Marcos looked up.
"Escaping the reggaeton."
"Finally agreeing on something."
Laura leaned on the railing next to him. The night was cold but clear. Madrid shone below.
"How's getting back into the routine?" she asked.
"Hard. I'd forgotten that nine o'clock classes existed."
"Me neither."
"Still thinking about Erasmus?"
Laura shrugged.
"Maybe. It's early to decide."
"Yes."
Marcos hesitated a moment.
"And what did you tell your grandmother?" asked Laura. "About settling down."
"That I don't have a girlfriend."
"And is it true?"
Marcos looked at her.
"Are you asking if I have a girlfriend?"
"Simple curiosity."
"I don't have a girlfriend. Well, some ex-classmates, but nothing serious. Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Curious."
"Why curious?"
"Because you're... interesting."
Laura laughed.
"What a compliment."
"It's the best compliment I'm going to give you, don't get used to it."
Inside, someone put on a Hombres G song. Marcos made a face.
"Don't you like it?" asked Laura.
"It's very... eighties Spanish pop."
"It's a classic."
"It's cheesy."
"Everything good is a little cheesy."
Marcos looked at her with something like surprise.
"Laura González admitting she likes something cheesy?"
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
They stayed in silence, a silence that for the first time wasn't uncomfortable. Marcos realized he could see Laura's profile outlined against the city lights. She had a small nose and freckles he'd never noticed before.
"What are you thinking about?" asked Laura.
"Nothing."
"Liar."
"Everything."
Laura turned to look at him face-on.
"You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"That we're here. Talking. Without arguing."
"It's not that weird."
"Three months ago I couldn't stand you."
"Three months ago I couldn't stand you."
"And now?"
Marcos looked into her eyes.
"Now you're less unbearable."
"You too."
Someone opened the terrace door and a noisy group came in. The moment broke. Laura stepped away.
"I should go back inside," she said.
"Yeah, me too."
But neither moved for a long second.
February - Library, study session.
Midterm exams were close and the library was packed. Laura found Marcos at a table in the back, surrounded by civil codes and notes.
"Can I?" she asked, pointing to the empty chair.
"Sure."
They studied in silence for an hour. Then two. Laura realized she studied better with Marcos nearby. It was comforting to have someone equally stressed next to her.
At six in the afternoon, Marcos closed his book abruptly.
"I need a break or I'll shoot myself."
"Dramatic. I think I have a magnum in my bag."
"Let's go get coffee."
It wasn't a question, but Laura gathered her things anyway.
At the cafeteria, Marcos ordered a cortado and Laura a café con leche. They sat by the window where it was starting to get dark.
"Nervous about the exams?" she asked.
"A little. You?"
"Always. I get very anxious."
"It doesn't seem like it. You always look so confident."
Laura shrugged.
"It's a facade. Inside I'm a mess."
Marcos smiled.
"Me too."
"You? Mr. Organization and Efficiency."
"That's at work. In everything else I'm chaos."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true." Marcos stirred his coffee. "I never know what to say in social situations. I have trouble making friends. I always say the wrong thing."
Laura looked at him surprised. It was strange to see him vulnerable.
"Me too," she admitted. "That's why I'm always on the defensive. It's easier to attack first."
"I know. We do it the same way."
They looked at each other and something happened. Something small. A mutual recognition.
"Hey," said Marcos after a moment, "there's a play at Teatro Español next week. Lorca. Blood Wedding. Want to come?"
Laura looked at him surprised.
"Are you inviting me to the theater?"
"Yes, but not as... you know. As friends. Because I know you hate theater but I think you might like Lorca."
"And what if I invite you to the movies afterwards?"
"What movie?"
"Something with explosions and car chases. Fast and Furious part a thousand."
Marcos laughed.
"Deal."
"Is it a date?"
The words came out before Laura could stop them. Marcos froze.
"Do you want it to be a date?"
"I don't know." Laura blushed. "Shit. Forget I said that."
"I don't want to forget it. I want to talk about it."
"Marcos..."
"Laura, we've been going around this for months."
"Around what?"
"Around the fact that we like each other. Even though we don't want to admit it."
Laura opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"You're a Barça fan."
"You're a Real Madrid fan."
"You listen to pretentious indie: La Casa Azul."
"You listen to predictable punk."
"I want to stay still."
"I need to move."
"We're completely incompatible."
"Completely."
They looked at each other. Neither looked away.
"So?" asked Marcos.
"So... I guess it can be a date."
Marcos smiled. Not his usual smug smile. A real smile, wide, that lit up his whole face.
"Okay."
"Okay."
February - Teatro Español, Friday night.
Laura got dressed up more than she'd planned. She put on a simple black dress, carefully curled her hair (for once letting the curls do what they wanted), and even put on some makeup. When she looked in the mirror, she almost didn't recognize herself.
Marcos was waiting for her at the theater entrance in dark jeans and a white shirt. He'd combed his hair but the wind had already messed it up. When he saw Laura, he froze. She looked different. She reminded him of the movie "She's All That," when the protagonist, the ugly duckling, gets a makeover and turns out to be a swan.
"You're... wow."
"Wow good or wow bad?"
"Wow good. Very good."
Laura smiled.
"You look decent too."
"How flattering."
They entered the theater. Marcos had bought tickets in the orchestra section, not too expensive but not the cheapest either. Laura had to admit he'd put in effort.
The play started and Laura, who had gone prepared to be bored, found herself completely absorbed. Lorca was pure passion, blood and earth and desire. When it ended, she had tears in her eyes.
"So?" asked Marcos when they came out.
"It was... incredible."
"See? Theater isn't so bad."
"Not this time. But don't get used to it."
They walked to the cinema in Callao. Laura had chosen an action movie, something with cars and explosions and bad dialogue. Marcos watched it with a smile on his face the whole time.
"It was entertaining," he admitted when they came out.
"Just entertaining?"
"Okay, it was good. The action scenes were very well done."
"You loved it."
"I didn't love it."
"Liar. I saw you smile in the helicopter scene."
Marcos laughed.
"Okay, that scene was great."
It was almost midnight. Madrid's streets were full of people, lights, life.
"I'm hungry," said Laura.
"Me too."
"Kebab?"
"Is there any other option at midnight?"
They ended up at the same place as before, on Gran Vía, eating with their hands and talking nonstop. Laura told him about her family, about her father who was a teacher and her mother who worked at an NGO. Marcos told her about Barcelona, about growing up by the sea, about his little sister who was studying Medicine.
"Do you miss her?" asked Laura.
"A lot. We talk on the phone almost every day."
"It must be nice to have siblings."
"Are you an only child?"
"Yes. Sometimes I feel lonely."
Marcos reached out and took Laura's hand across the table. It was a simple gesture, natural, as if they'd been doing it all their lives.
"You're not alone anymore."
Laura felt something in her chest. Something warm and terrifying at the same time.
"Marcos, this is crazy."
"I know."
"It doesn't make sense."
"I know."
"We're completely different."
"I know."
"Then why are we doing this?"
Marcos squeezed her hand.
"Because sometimes things don't have to make sense."
Laura looked at him. His dark eyes, his crooked smile, his impossible-to-comb hair. Everything she'd hated at first now seemed perfect.
"Shit," she said.
"What?"
"I think I really like you."
Marcos smiled.
"I think I really like you too."
"What do we do now?"
"I don't know. Try?"
"What if it goes wrong?"
"What if it goes right?"
Laura took a deep breath.
"Okay. Let's try."
March - First kiss.
They didn't kiss that night. Not the next one either. Marcos walked Laura home but they said goodbye with an awkward hug in the entrance hall. Laura didn't sleep all night, turning everything over in her mind.
They kissed a week later, on a Tuesday afternoon in the library.
They'd been studying for hours. Laura had made a sarcastic comment about something. Marcos had laughed. And then, without thinking, without planning it, Marcos had leaned in and kissed her.
It was brief, soft, and completely unexpected.
When they separated, Laura's eyes were wide open.
"Did you just kiss me in the library?"
"Yes. It's a crime."
"We're surrounded by people."
"I know."
"They could kick us out."
"I don't care."
Laura looked at him for another second and then grabbed his shirt and kissed him again. This time longer, deeper. Someone coughed near them. They didn't care at all.
When they finally separated, they were both smiling like idiots.
"So... are we boyfriend and girlfriend?" asked Laura.
"Do you want us to be boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"I think so."
"Then we're boyfriend and girlfriend."
"How easy."
"Should it be more complicated?"
"Probably."
"Well, let it not be."
Laura rested her head on Marcos's shoulder. He smelled of that expensive perfume whose name, by the way, was: Absolute Desire, which no longer bothered her so much.
"Okay," she whispered. "Let it not be."
March - Laura's house, Saturday morning.
Marcos officially met Laura's apartment on a Saturday morning. Inés had organized a breakfast and then made up an emergency with Dani, leaving them alone.
"She's so obvious," said Laura while making coffee.
"Completely pathetic," Marcos agreed, but he was smiling.
"Want an omelet?"
"You know how to make an omelet?"
"I know how to make three things: omelet, pasta, and coffee. Everything else turns out bad."
"I know how to make rice."
"Just rice?"
"Rice in many different ways. It's a Catalan skill."
"How useful. I thought only Valencians were good with rice."
They had breakfast in the small kitchen, with light coming through the window. Marcos wore an old t-shirt and messy hair. Laura was in pajamas. It was all strangely domestic.
"I like your apartment," said Marcos looking around.
"It's small but it's mine. Well, my parents'. But they let me use it."
"You have a lot of books."
"And a lot of movies." Laura pointed to a shelf full of DVDs. "I collect classics."
Marcos got up to look. Casablanca, The Godfather, Pulp Fiction, All About My Mother.
"Good taste."
"Thanks."
"Though something's missing."
"What?"
"Filmed theater. There are incredible recorded plays."
Laura rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
"Of course you'd say that."
Marcos came back to the table and kissed her. She tasted like coffee and omelet and something completely her own.
"You know what?" said Laura against his lips.
"What?"
"I still can't stand Barça."
"And I still can't stand Real Madrid."
"And your music is still pretentious."
"And yours is predictable."
"But I like you."
"I like you too."
They kissed again, slower this time, unhurried. Outside Madrid made its usual noise, but inside the small apartment, everything was silence and harmony.
April - First fight.
The first serious fight was over something stupid. Marcos had met up with some friends from Barcelona who were visiting. He'd told Laura to join them, but she'd said no, that she had to study.
Two hours later, Marcos sent her a photo of the group. There was a blonde girl laughing next to him.
Laura felt something unpleasant in her stomach. Jealousy. She hated feeling jealous.
She wrote: "Who is she?"
Marcos took half an hour to respond: "Clara. Friend from high school."
Laura: "She seems very friendly." Is that the one they wanted to set you up with?
Marcos: "Are you jealous?"
Laura: "No."
Marcos: "Liar."
Laura: "Go to hell."
They didn't talk for two days. They were two horrible days. Laura couldn't concentrate on anything. Neither could Marcos.
On the third day, Marcos showed up at her apartment without warning. Laura opened the door in pajamas, looking like she hadn't slept.
"I'm being an idiot," said Marcos.
"Yes, you are."
"Clara is just a friend. She's never been anything more."
"It's not that." Laura sighed. "It's that... I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"That you'll realize there are better people for you. Easier. More attractive, with more curves. Who don't argue with you all the time."
Marcos entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. He took Laura's face in his hands.
"I don't want easy. I want you."
"We're a mess."
"The best mess I've ever known."
Laura laughed through tears.
"How cheesy."
"You said everything good was a little cheesy."
"What a pain! I hate that you remember the things I say."
"I remember everything you say."
They kissed in the hallway, with Laura still in pajamas and Marcos with his backpack hanging from his shoulder. It wasn't a perfect kiss. It was perfect for them.
April - Classmate's house, another party.
They went together to a party at a classmate's house. This time as an official couple. Inés almost cried with happiness when she saw them arrive holding hands.
"I knew it would happen," she told them. "I knew from the first day."
"We hated each other the first day," Laura pointed out.
"Exactly. Too much energy to be indifference."
Dani patted Marcos on the shoulder.
"Welcome to the hell of dating a woman with opinions."
"You have opinions too," Inés protested.
"But mine are correct."
Laura and Marcos looked at each other and laughed. They knew exactly what he meant.
They spent the night glued to each other. Marcos put his arm around her shoulders. Laura rested her head on his chest. It was nauseating and adorable at the same time.
At midnight, they went out to the terrace for air.
"You know what's weird?" said Laura.
"What?"
"That six months ago I hated you."
"Six months ago you were unbearable."
"I'm still unbearable."
"Yes, but now I like that you're unbearable."
Laura kissed him.
"I also hate your good boy face less now. Though you're still fake."
"How romantic."
"It's the best you're going to get."
Marcos hugged her tighter.
"It's enough."
May - Parque del Oeste, sunset.
May arrived with longer days and warmer temperatures. Marcos and Laura started spending afternoons in Parque del Oeste, studying under the trees or just talking.
One Friday afternoon, after a particularly difficult exam, they lay on the grass watching the clouds.
"That one looks like a dog," said Marcos pointing.
"That one looks like your ego," said Laura pointing at another.
"How funny."
Laura turned on her side to look at him.
"Hey, do you ever think about the future?"
"Sometimes. Why?"
"Because it's weird to me. Thinking that in three years we'll finish our degree and everything will change."
"Not everything will change."
"How do you know?"
Marcos also turned to look at her face-on.
"Because some things are worth keeping."
"Like what?"
"Like this. Like us."
Laura felt that warmth in her chest again.
"Even if I go on Erasmus?"
"Are you still thinking about that?"
"Sometimes."
"Then I'll go with you."
"You can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because you have your own life. Your own plans."
Marcos caressed her hair, tangling his fingers in her curls.
"My plans can change. What matters is you."
"Marcos..."
"I'm serious. Where you go, I go."
"That's very intense."
"I know."
"And very cheesy."
"I know that too."
"But I like it."
"Good."
They kissed as the sun set over Madrid, tinting everything orange and pink. Some tourists took photos of them, thinking they were an adorable local couple. They weren't wrong.
May - Malasaña, the same pub from the beginning.
Inés organized a nostalgia night. They went back to the same pub where they'd met eight months ago. This time, when Marcos and Laura entered, they were holding hands.
"Do you remember the first time?" asked Inés, excited.
"I remember I hated his hair," said Marcos.
"And I hated his face," Laura added.
"And now?" asked Dani.
Marcos looked at Laura. Laura looked at Marcos.
"Now his hair seems perfect to me," he said.
"And his face seems tolerable to me," she said.
"How romantic," Inés teased.
The club music enveloped the group of four young people sitting at a high table by the bar. Dani took a sip of his rum and coke and looked at Marcos.
"Dude, how was the trip to Amsterdam? You told me you were going last weekend."
"Incredible, man. I spent everything I had, but it was worth every cent. The museums, the canals, the nightlife..."
"Everything you had?" Laura interrupted, turning toward him with wide eyes. "Did you really spend your entire paycheck in two days?"
Marcos shrugged with a smile.
"That's what I work for. What good is money if you don't enjoy it?"
"To have a safety cushion, for the future, for emergencies..." Laura counted on her fingers. "I've been saving since I was sixteen. I have a fund that..."
"That you probably never touch because you always have to 'save more,'" Marcos smiled with amusement. "Living is now, Laura. Tomorrow we might not be here."
"Precisely why we have to be responsible today."
Inés intervened, trying to soften the atmosphere.
"Well, changing the subject... Laura, are you still going to Caritas on Sunday mornings?"
"Yes, it's the best part of my week. Yesterday we were organizing a charity activity for next month. It fills me up so much to be able to help and..."
"I don't understand how you can get up on a Sunday morning for that," Marcos shook his head. "Sundays are sacred for sleeping until two in the afternoon."
"Nothing is sacred to you," Laura replied with an ironic smile. "You're an atheist."
"Touché." Marcos raised his glass. "But seriously, doesn't it make you lazy to get up early after going out on Saturdays?"
"It's just that I don't go out on Saturday nights. I prefer daytime plans: a terrace, a route through the mountains, going to Retiro..."
"Retiro? In Madrid?" Marcos made a face. "Madrid is an oven in summer."
"It's MY city. The best in Spain."
"Barcelona is objectively superior. We have beach, mountains, modernist architecture..."
"And you have an impossible accent," Laura joked. "Besides, Madrid is the capital. Period."
"That doesn't make it better, just more administrative."
Dani let out a laugh.
"You two are incredible. Do you always argue like this?"
"We don't argue," they both said in unison, and then looked at each other smiling.
Inés took advantage of the moment.
"Marcos, is it true your house looks like something out of a magazine? Laura told me you're super organized."
"I'm not 'super' organized, I just like having things in their place. Everything has its place."
Laura let out a giggle.
"Lie. He's obsessive. I went to his apartment the other day and he has his books organized by height and color. By color, Inés!"
"It's aesthetic," Marcos defended himself. "And functional. I always know where everything is."
"I also know where everything is in my room."
"Yes, on the floor," Marcos smiled mischievously.
"I have a system. It's... creative."
"It's chaotic."
"It's spontaneous."
"It's a disaster."
Laura gave him a playful punch on the arm.
"At least I don't have to spend two hours every Sunday reorganizing my closet."
"I spend five minutes. And it relaxes me."
"You could spend that time on something more productive. Like going to mass."
"Productive? Talking to someone who doesn't exist doesn't seem very productive to me."
"It's not 'someone who doesn't exist,'" Laura rolled her eyes. "It's faith. It's having something to believe in beyond yourself."
"I believe in humanity. In science. In tangible things."
"Faith is also tangible when you live it."
"Agreed, let's disagree civilly on that," Marcos raised his hands in a sign of peace.
Dani looked at his phone.
"Hey, did you see yesterday's game? What a goal from Real Madrid."
"Right!" Laura lit up. "Hala Madrid. Fifteen Champions Leagues, Marcos."
"Please," Marcos groaned. "Barça plays infinitely superior football. We have style, philosophy... Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets."
"And we have trophies. Many trophies. And the BBC."
"Doesn't beat MSN. Football isn't just about winning, it's about how you play."
"Of course, that's what losers say."
Marcos laughed in spite of himself.
"You're impossible, Laura."
"And you're stubborn, Marcos."
Inés watched the scene, fascinated.
"But guys, what do you agree on? There has to be something."
Laura and Marcos looked at each other thoughtfully.
"She likes chai tea," Marcos offered.
"He also likes chai tea," Laura confirmed.
"And..." Marcos searched his mind, "we both think pineapple pizza is a crime."
"That's universal," Dani interrupted. "Doesn't count."
Laura smiled.
"We both love to read."
"Though she reads romance novels and I read philosophical essays. Now she's reading a book by an author nobody knows: 'In Search of Your Smile.'"
"See? Even in that you're different," Inés shook her head. "And food? Can you at least go to dinner together without fighting?"
"Complicated," Laura admitted. "I'm vegetarian."
"And I'm a carnivore," Marcos added. "Yesterday I ate a steak that weighed half a kilo."
"How horrible. Animals suffer, the planet suffers..."
"Plants are also living beings, technically."
"They don't have a nervous system, Marcos."
"But they respond to stimuli."
"It's not the same and you know it."
Dani rubbed his temples.
"You're exhausting me just listening to you. How is it possible that you get along?"
"Who says we get along," Marcos joked.
"We tolerate each other," Laura corrected with a smile.
"She challenges me."
"He drives me crazy."
"She makes me think."
"He takes me out of my comfort zone."
"She's too sensible."
"He's too impulsive."
Inés and Dani looked at each other, perplexed.
"You're a mess," Dani declared.
"A mess," Inés agreed.
Marcos and Laura exchanged a complicit look. There was something strangely perfect in their imperfect equation. Like day and night, like sea and mountain, like Barcelona and Madrid: opposites that defined each other.
"You know what's the worst?" said Laura, leaning toward Marcos.
"What?"
"That I can't imagine a boring conversation with you. Not a single one."
Marcos smiled, that smile she'd learned to recognize.
"I know. Me neither."
"This doesn't make sense," she murmured.
"None at all."
"But it works."
"Strangely, yes."
Dani sighed theatrically.
"I think I need another drink to process this."
"Me too," Inés added. "You two are exhausting."
But when they walked away toward the bar, Marcos and Laura stayed there, looking at each other with that mix of exasperation and fascination that had defined them from day one. Different in everything. Connected in something neither could name.
And maybe, Laura thought, that was exactly what made it perfect.
But everyone knew the truth. You could see it in the way they looked at each other, in how Marcos brushed Laura's hair out of her face, in how Laura squeezed his hand when he was nervous.
Later they went back to the column, the same one as the first time. They ordered the same beers. But everything was different.
"I propose a toast," said Dani raising his bottle. "To coincidences."
"To destiny," Inés added.
"To bad luck that turns into good," said Marcos.
"To us," Laura finished. "Against all odds."
They toasted. The music was too loud. The beer was too cold. The pub was too full. It was perfect.
At midnight, Marcos took Laura out to dance. She protested, saying she hated dancing, but let herself be led. They danced clumsily, stepping on each other's feet, laughing the whole time.
"You're terrible at dancing," said Laura.
"You too."
"We make a good couple then."
"The best."
"Make a wish, Marcos."
"That you meet my parents at Christmas."
"Go to Barcelona? I'd only go to meet your blonde friend, the one who looks at you like an idiot."
"Would you prefer I stay here with you and we eat the grapes together in Sol?"
"Would you do that for me? Even though it sounds too cheesy?"
"It's my wish. To start the year with you. There's nothing that beats it. And you? What wish would you make now?"
"I'd better keep it to myself, Marcos. It's too cheesy to say out loud."
"And you're going to leave me like this? Halfway?"
"Not at all, when the moment comes I'll tell you."
Marcos kissed her in the middle of the dance floor, with people pushing them from all sides, and Laura thought that maybe, just maybe, all those differences between them didn't matter so much after all.