Pol Rubio, a young philosophy graduate, isn't feeling his best lately. And he usually is. Working at a dead-end job and living an unfulfilling life was not what he had envisioned his life to be. Until one night, when he recalls a previous failed rel...
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I know it's all real and yet, it feels like a bad dream. It's funny how I've hated him for most of my life and now that my father's gone, I wish we had more time together. It's been months already. But the wound still feels fresh.
I grab my phone from the edge of the bed to check the time. 13:16 PM. I overslept again. These days, it feels like time is playing tricks on me. Mornings, evenings, and afternoons all blurring into one.
I check my messages.
Nothing.
I lie back in bed and stare at the roof for a bit. Why do I still feel so tired even after sleeping so much?
"Simone?" I hear Nonna yell from downstairs.
"Yes?" I yell back.
"Your friends are here," she says.
Friends? I wasn't expecting visitors today. I get up, brush my teeth quick and change my clothes. I stop and stare at myself in the mirror. I need a haircut and a shave. I look horrid. I even have bigger hair than Manuel.
Manuel.
I remember one summer when he stayed here for three weeks. Anita had a work trip to Australia and she asked my dad if Manuel could stay over. When he agreed, I was over the moon with excitement. Three weeks...with Manuel. And they were definitely the best three weeks of my life. The house came alive. Nights were filled with laughter, junk food, and James Bond films.
He loves James Bond. As a child, Anita would leave him to watch those movies while she cleans the house. Because of that, he practically memorized them all. Well, not all of them. Just the ones starring Pierce Brosnan.
I remember sometimes when we were watching, he would mouth the lines quietly to himself. He probably doesn't know that I know. But I remember just feeling so happy; so excited that I got to witness a side of him that others don't usually see. It felt like a secret that I was a part of; something that only the two of us shared.
I miss him so much.
I walk downstairs and I can see Chicca, Laura, Luna and Monica waiting for me in the kitchen. They don't see me yet; all of them focused on eating Nonna's delicious torta tenerina. For a house someone died in, it sure smells wonderful.
Chicca notices me approaching. She immediately puts down her fork and runs to hug me. "Simone!"
I hug her back.
"Hi Chicca," I say with a weak smile on my face.
The other girls join her.
Laura squeezes my face and kisses my cheek. "Hi Simone," she says.
I proceed to hug Monica and Luna.
"How are you?" Laura asks.
I shrug. I wish I knew the answer, Laura. I don't respond to her. I just shrug. Hoping she'll leave it at that. "Okay girls thank you for your love. But I'm really hungry," I say as we walk towards the kitchen table.
The girls laugh.
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"Where's Nonna?" I ask.
"She's in her room. She has her personal hairdresser over and she asked us to tell you to not disturb her for the next twelve hours so she can maintain the form of her hair," Monica says, in between chews of the torta.
"Great," I say with a chuckle. I start eating my slice. For awhile everyone is quiet, entranced by Nonna's special torta tenerina.
"How are you Simone?" asks Luna.
I finish swallowing and I shake my head. "Honestly? I feel like shit," I say.
The girls stare at me with concern...almost even pity in their eyes.
I fake a laugh.
"It's okay, girls, really. I'm going to be okay," I say. I wish I believed every word I just said.
Chicca nods. "And Manuel? Matteo told me that asshole's avoiding you."
I look down on my plate. How do I even respond to that?
"Well, he's avoiding everyone, Chicca, let's be honest," Laura says.
"That makes him more of an asshole, then."
"I don't know. I don't think we should be mad at him. He's just mourning like the rest of us," I say.
Look at me, defending him again. I've always tried to be mad at him before. To push him out of my mind and out my life. But I just can't. Even when we fought back then, we always made up the next day. And now I really, really want to put myself first. Trust me. I want that so much more than anything. But if I do that; if I just let go of him, would I be actually putting myself first? Because who am I if I'm not with Manuel? I'd rather it hurt this much and still have him in my life than the whatever the opposite is. I can't live a reality without him in my life.
The girls go silent. Chicca takes my hand. "We get that, Simone. Everyone's sad about it. What we don't get is why he just went away, why he wasn't there at Prof's funeral. He could have called you or messaged you. Yes, he's mourning but he could've still done and be there with you at the same time." I can see some tears fall from Chicca's eyes. I look at the other girls and they're also crying. I also want to cry but I think I've already run out tears from crying so much these past few days.
I love these girls so much. Ever since I came out to them, they've been nothing but accepting and loving of me and I will forever be grateful for that. They all hug me.
Luna pulls away. "But girls, we're not here to cry all afternoon, right?" she says.
"Oh, shit. Yeah. Of course," Chicca says, wiping her tears. Okay, where are they going with this? "The real reason we're here is to give you a makeover!" she squeals out of excitement.
The other girls excitedly clap their hands.
"What?" I ask.
Laura sits next to me. "No offense, my love, but have you seen yourself?" Ouch, never thought Laura would be capable of inflicting so much pain.
"But, I don't have money. My allowance still hasn't come in."
"Don't worry about that, we have an appointment with Chicca's mom. She'll give you a haircut for free," Monica says.
I look at Chicca. She nods. "She just asks that you share our Facebook page in return." Okay. I laugh.
"And as for the shopping, well, your mom actually called and texted me. This was her idea." Laura shows me her phone and I just cover my face embarrassed but also happy as hell. I love you mom. I love you girls.
"So," Chicca puts her hands on my shoulders. "Where do you want to go first, Balestra Junior?"