What do the stars feel when they look at Us?

Chapter 12: Aristotle just as much as Aristotle

The first time Pedro and I biked to the lake, he asked me if I minded if we just stayed quiet for a little while. And it turned into hours of silence.

Whenever I was with my other friends, they would talk for hours on end. Because they always had something to say. It was like every single thought they had needed to be shared.

I think that's when I noticed that, even though Pedro was pretty talkative, it wouldn't be impossible to spend time with him. It was actually quite enjoyable.

It doesn't change the fact that he does talk a lot.

But when he does I don't have to wonder if what he just said would have to be commented by slaughtering laughter or "Boobs, yes, Linda does have boobs".

And when he says stuff like Aristotle not being a great name for a main character, I want to prove him wrong.

He definitely is still wrong about that.

-

As I was staring into the mirror, watching coloured floods raging in my irides, being sucked into the nearby black void inexorably, I thought about Pedro using the word "inexorable" in his rage against Artistotle.

"The inexorable truth is that it is frivolous to besmirch the name of one of the greatest philosophers mankind has ever witnessed by naming a tiny, insignificant character after him", or something along the lines of that.

The longer arguments with Pedro take, the more effort he puts into his phrasing. But I think he was just jealous that he hadn't thought of such a great name for a protagonist himself beforehand.

-

Anyway, as I was staring into the mirror, irides et cetera, my mom rushed into the bathroom, with the house phone in her hand, far away from her ear.

And while she had already shared my upset just minutes ago, there was now even more distress showing up on the tiny wrinkles on her face.

She unmistakeably gave me to understand that that call was for me.

On the other end, there was a concerned dad. Pedro's dad. His voice sounded like the crackling in between firestorms.

He told me that Pedro had run away. And asked if I had seen him. If he was with me.

And I told him no. The last time I had seen him was the day before at work.

And because I still couldn't get over what happened with Linda, I didn't really see him too much at all anyway.

Because I was too busy staring.

He asked me if I knew where he was.

He could be by the lake.

I knew his parents didn't know he was there too often.

So I said no.

He told me to call him in case I did see him.

I said yes.

And goodbye to my mom.

Grabbed my bike.

And drove off.

-

But Pedro wasn't at the lake.

I shouted his name even though it felt stupid.

I even checked the shore. And looked out for his stupid curly hair.

Why would he just disappear?

On the other hand, he is a human being.

And human beings do stupid things.

Like running toward trains in the middle of the night.

Or staying in their room endlessly.

Or shouting names at ripples.

So I went back to my bike and headed towards home.

Towards the bikeway, leading through the entirety of the city.

But instead of going up the hill, I went straight past it.

Past the train rails.

Past the old shopping mall.

Past the empty parking garage.

Back to the empty parking garage.

I let my bike fall onto the ground and ran up to the top floor.

Where Pedro was sitting.

Looking in my direction.

Smiling.

"Why did you run up here, Ben?"

"Because I was worried."

I was nearly out of breath.

"Yeah..., about that. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I've been thinking about it and I feel like I kind of pushed you in that direction."

"What direction?"

"Like..., an emotional direction. All your feelings and stuff. Empathy - worries."

"What?"

He scratched his head.

"I feel bad about it. Like I knew that it was somewhere within you since I met you and now it feels like I'm taking advantage of it by making you worry and..., you being here. Making you someone you aren't or something like that, I don't know?"

I was so confused. What on earth was he even talking about?

His dad was the one that was worried sick because of him.

But then I remembered that human beings can be stupid.

They can think too much and still believe that what they're doing is thoughtful.

They're making themselves believe that what they think must be the closest thing to reality.

Is it because it's easier?

How would I know.

So I sat down next to him.

And hugged him. Just like my mom did with me before. Just like Pedro did at the lake.

And I could've said a thousand things at that moment. Like how wrong he was about that. That I know that he changes me but that I'm glad that he does. That everyone has egocentric motives for everything they do. Or just thanks.

I stopped hugging him.

Something different came to my mind.

"You know, Benjamin Alire Sáenz created a really strong character in Aristotle. Courageous. Patient. Proud. Warm. Smart. Eventually honest. Maybe small and insignificant if you look at the whole picture. But in the whole picture, we're all small and insignificant. Aristotle just as much as Aristotle. You as much as I. So I think that makes your argument, in fact, invalid."

"What?"

"Your argument has been dismantled by cosmic phenomena."

"Can we go back to the worrying and hugging part and not you dismantling arguments I made weeks ago?"

I regret not having that argument ready the first day that we argued about it.