- Caro is downstairs, I wanted to see you.
Comment referring to our cousin.
May: What are you doing in my unbearable room?
- Ah but what a good reception. I come to wake you up and instead of thanking me, you insult me.
May: It is obvious that you did not come for that, but that you need me for something. If you hardly care that your sister is alive.
He doesn't say or do anything besides looking away. I give a little laugh, hoping to hear something from him, but I see that that won't happen anytime soon.
May: Well tell me.
His hair is tousled a bit.
May: CAN YOU TALK ...
Oliver (cuts me off): Well, I like a girl.
May: What?
Oliver: Yes ... bah, I think I'm in love, I don't know if ...
May (I cut him off): What are you what?
I say to start laughing out loud.
Oliver: For the first time I'm talking to you about something serious and you avoid me.
May (river): Well, what do you want me to do? What congratulations to you?
Oliver: No, help me.
May: In what? I'm sure the girl you like is going to dislike me. Because everything you like I hate.
Oliver: I wouldn't say that.
May: Yeah sure, whatever.
I get out of bed, but he stays in place like nothing.
May: Can you go? I have to change and ... incidentally forget that habit of entering my room just like that.
Oliver: So you don't want to know who I'm talking about?
May: I'm not interested. Nor should I know her so ...
Oliver (cuts me off): You know her.
May: Oh what a thrill! (I say with enthusiasm and he looks at me ironic). Now you go.
He sighs and stands up, heading for the exit. Once it comes out and disappears, I walk over to that white door and close it, letting only the little squares of white glass reflect the shadows on the other side of it.
Oliver: You might see her when you go down for breakfast.
I yank open the door and lean over his Oliver, watching him walk away down that long hallway that leads to the stairs.
May: What did you fall in love with your little pedophile cousin?
I hear him laugh the second he stops walking. He turns around, shakes his head and leaves. I huff and enter my room, closing the door behind me. I come down twenty minutes later, wearing dark jean shorts, somewhat worn, a checkered shirt in shades of blue and red, something rolled up, and comfortable sneakers.
Just when I enter the kitchen I see my father putting on his coat and planning to leave. He smiles as he passes me and leaves. Mom gives me a sneaky wink. It's not hard for me to notice how she gets excited about any closeness or opportunity that I have with dad, wishing that our bad relationship would finally end. What frustrates me is that he doesn't do anything about it or that, if he has to defend someone when there are arguments, it is always him, although perhaps he did not even listen to the entire conversation or has no idea what really happened. He, for his part, tries to get closer to me, make amends and I respect that, but shortly after having done something right or having made some progress in our relationship, he makes the same mistake again, opting for decisions that he knows perfectly well that he is not. I will like them
I join the table, where in addition to my mother, there is also my brother, my cousin, who embraces me kindly when she sees me and Mia, who seems to have woken up recently, since she does not stop rubbing her eyes or yawning. Luisa prepares something a few meters from us.
It's almost four in the afternoon when I see my feet float in front of me, which relaxes me quite a bit. Mia is next to me, but remains still. Without a doubt, I am in the corner of the house that I love the most. Dad built it when we were just moving here. I was four ... maybe five years old and in the afternoons I was always walking around this area. Back then he was not as he appears to be now. I remember counting the hours, waiting for him to arrive and jumping towards him when I saw him go through that door, which did not resemble the luxurious one at all. In fact, there was nothing fascinating or innovative about the house itself as it is now, just a young couple and their two children, living a limited but happy life. This place is the only thing left from those times. An old wooden hammock built by the person I most admired at the time, who now I don't even remember when I said "I love you" for the last time. The only hiding place that remained from my childhood, where I usually disappear, distracting myself from my life for a few minutes while I balance on these pieces of white wood, whose paint has worn off many years ago.
Mine: Pablo invites us to "Red Tide".
He comments with his eyes fixed on his cell phone screen.
May: The beach bar?
Mine: The same.
May: I don't really want to go, but ...
Mine: He says Oliver should go too.
May: Well, I had to screw it up already.
Mia (laughs): Come on, don't be a party pooper.
May (sigh): I'm going to find the unbearable and I'll be back.
We are about to leave the house when I hear Mom's voice, wondering if we will go out. I insist thousands of times, but I cannot convince her that it is not necessary for Samuel to take us, since I am going with my brother and not alone. I huff and leave the house, slamming the door as if I wanted to knock down all the walls. I don't want to see him again, not now, not after the mysterious dream I had in which he was basically the protagonist.