He peeks out from behind an open lattice iron door with his hands clutching the side of Oliver's, sporting a mischievous-boy smile. I leave the swing seat and walk over to him, having looked around and made sure not to be observed. When I look at him closely, I notice that he is not wearing a suit or tie, much less that extremely formal hairstyle that they force him to do for the job they both hate. He wears a white printed T-shirt with a V-neck, a faded jean jacket whose gray fabric hood falls over his back, black pants and dark-hued DC Anvil style urban sneakers. It amazes me that I am not cold in such ... "autumn" clothing, because the truth is that I am almost shivering even with the long fabric coat that covers me,
When I'm in front of him, he takes my hand and steps back, taking me with him. I reach around the mini-gate handle with my fingers and drag it toward me, closing the back entrance to the house. Samuel walks along the sidewalk, still with his hand joined to mine and I follow him, watching as the barriers of shrubs pass by my right side, creating a wall that separates the garden from where I left the streets outside. I bump into Samuel's back when he stops suddenly and goes to a bench, the kind that are always in the squares. He sits down and I do the same, settling in beside him with the bushes behind me and the fences of the front house before my eyes.
Samuel: Everything okay?
He asks looking at my hand holding his and playing with my fingers. I nod looking at him and he grimaces, wrapping his free arm around me over the back of the bench and pulling me closer to him, until he makes me feel the contact of my lips against his and kiss me cautiously for only a couple of seconds, after which I open my eyes when my nose still rubs against his and I feel his breathing. I throw myself at him, grabbing onto his shoulder and closing my eyes, as if that would freeze the moment or make it more enjoyable. He doesn't take long to bring his arms behind my back.
Samuel: Is something wrong?
He whispers against my neck, making my skin crawl. I bite my lip, a little nervous, and let go of his grip.
May: Why? Can't I hug you?
I question squinting on his jacket and adjusting his collar.
Samuel: No… yes obviously, but… I don't know. You are not like that.
May: "So" how?
A car passes by us and Samuel watches it until it disappears when we turn onto the other street.
Samuel: Nothing ... but seriously, you look weird.
I sigh, averting my gaze to the sidewalk.
May: And why am I going to be ...
Samuel (interrupts me): What did your brother tell you?
I look at him and I am speechless without knowing what to say, while he just looks at me focused, waiting for my answer. I begin to believe that I no longer have escape when, from one second to another, he changes the direction of his gaze and fixes it behind me. I frown in confusion and turn around in my seat, meeting a very familiar face. I roll my eyes, although I must accept for the first time in my life his appearance had some advantage.
May: It looks like you summoned it.
I exclaim somewhat disgusted and Samuel giggles. I turn to my brother who is wearing a thick sports jacket and casual jeans.
May: What are you doing here?
Oliver: I went for a walk.
Oliver going for a walk at this time and in this cold in a place he doesn't even know? I should be stupid to buy such a tale.
May (bufo): Yes, of course. I think.
I say ironic and he shrugs.
Oliver: Believe what you want.
He responds dryly and walks past us, walking down the street with his hands in his pockets.
May: This looks bad.
I comment when he's already far enough away not to hear us. Samuel stops looking at him and turns to me.
Samuel: Why?
May: It's not the most normal thing in the world for him to do this.
Samuel: Do you think he's watching us?
May: Hopefully it's just that.
I watch him disappear into the winter fog on the other block and I look at Samuel.
Samuel: What do you mean? I do not understand.
May: I mean that my brother is someone who tries to take advantage of any opportunity he has to win something ... and lives being my dad's pantyhose so (sigh) ... let's hope that by some chance in life he just got out to walk.
Samuel: But what did he say to you when ...
A repetitive melody begins to play and it does not take long to remove the cell phone from his pocket. I notice the surprise in his eyes when I read the screen that I can't see. Attend.
Samuel: Hi. Yes...
He gestures to me, nods, and stands up, walking a few meters down the sidewalk, so that I can no longer hear the rest of the conversation, just the movement of his lips and the peculiar gestures he carries out when he speaks: put your hands in your pockets to get them back out in a second, tousle your hair awkwardly, or just twirl around in place. It's comical and at the same time it attracts me, so I look at him with a smile on my face, until he cuts and comes back, although he seems to be different. He sits in his place or, you could say, he flops into it and lets out an exhausted sigh with the cell phone in his hands.
May: Now the one who asks if something happened is me.
He does not answer, nor does he look at me. He keeps his gaze fixed on the slippery snow-strewn street and rubs his forehead.
May: Samuel.
Any. I am about to speak again when he turns his face towards me and looks at me with his head slightly tilted due to his position: he is not so ... "sitting", but rather spread out on the bench, which makes him seem more lower than me, since it does not reach my shoulder. He shakes his head without taking his eyes off me.
May: It doesn't seem
He sighs, returning his eyes to the street.
Samuel: I was never very good at hiding.
May: Well, seeing you like this is already scaring me.
He is silent again.
May: Samuel ...
Samuel (cuts me off): I have to go back.
May: What?
It says nothing.
May: Where to?
Samuel (turns and looks at me): To the city, right away.
I remain speechless, wondering who the recent caller would have been to be the reason for such a sudden decision.