It's difficult to find the way everything fits into place once it's broken, even if a surgeon gives you a pretty significant first push. Alexia's recovery is progressing with hope. Her knee is responding well to rehabilitation, but she doesn't feel...
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Alexia had moved past the cape. She was leaning on one of the high tables with a drink, looking at her companions with a serious but kind expression. Her eyes were fixed on the farthest wall, observing it without moving for minutes. Occasionally, something caught her attention on the improvised dance floor, and she took a break from the extensive journey she must have been going through in her mind.
It was getting late. The DJ was taking song requests from different customers, turning the party into a mix of various musical themes. From Ghostbusters to Metallica.
The girls had lost their anonymity at least an hour ago. A couple of boys, no older than twenty, had recognized Alexia, leading to a flurry of photos with the whole team and drawing attention from others. Nevertheless, they hadn't left. There were no more than ten people besides them, and everyone had agreed not to disclose their location or share the photos until the next morning, allowing them to enjoy the night.
They danced wildly, screamed, jumped, pushed each other, and laughed. Some of them approached Alexia to request the next songs in exchange for a selfie for the DJ, and they shouted with all their might. Fernando had been rubbing his hands together for a while, thinking about the photos he could post on social media, showing his bar filled with important people.
Everything was so joyful and vibrant, and yet Alexia seemed so absent... Some of her companions approached her, trying to infect her with energy and make her dance to any Spanish rock rhythm from the 2000s. But she simply didn't seem to be in the mood, and I couldn't help but remember the conversation I had overheard while decorating the table that Lucy was currently stealing a zucchini from.
"It's quite strong," Irene looked at it in awe.
"Yeah," I responded, trying to refer to something completely different.
I continued to watch Alexia. I couldn't help it. She seemed so fragile, as if an aura of silence was protecting her from a room full of noise, and at the same time, it was a deafening silence that blocked the ears like an airplane landing, as if she could leave the bar at any moment because she couldn't bear it anymore.
Then she looked at me, and I couldn't look away. Her eyes locked onto mine and anchored themselves. Her eyebrows remained furrowed, and her eyes empty. I swear I lost track of everything else. The few seconds when neither of us broke eye contact felt long. I entered her silence, her bubble separated from everything around her. I couldn't see anything else; I couldn't hear anything else. Her lips twisted slightly upwards, and I held my breath.
And then it broke. The loud music startled me, and for a moment, I was scared. Aitana had taken Alexia's arm, and she broke eye contact as well, bursting the bubble. I blinked a couple of times, reorienting myself to where I was.
"Are you okay?" Irene asked with genuine concern. I looked at her, still a bit dazed. What the hell had just happened? "For a moment, it seemed like you were somewhere else."
"I zoned out," I shook my head once again. "Sorry."
Irene opened her mouth to say something, but arms on the table interrupted us.
Mapi León looked at me with a lopsided smile that highlighted her dimples. I blinked a couple of times.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, prolonging the last letter and adding a small laugh at the end, which I couldn't help but catch. I greeted her back with a wave of my hand. "You're throwing one hell of a party."
"Do you think so?" I asked ironically.
"Yes!" she responded without lowering her energy, fueled by alcohol. "And on top of that, you're all dressed up, even the waiters. It's freaking awesome."
"Well, I didn't find it amusing," I complained. "They didn't even let me choose."
"No?"
"Do you think I would have come like this if I could choose?"
Mapi looked at me in silence for a few seconds, trying to focus on my figure with her tired and probably blurry eyes.
"Okay," she burst out laughing, slightly annoyed.
"Hey! You could have pretended that it looked good on me."
"Sorry, sorry," she continued laughing. "I came to ask you for a couple of shots. Pour one for yourself, and that way you'll forgive me. Tequila."
I nodded in approval and turned to get the shot glasses and the bottle. I also grabbed some salt and a lemon, preparing one for my friend Irene, who had just introduced herself to the blonde.
"Cheers!" we said in unison.
We all downed the liquid through our throats. Irene coughed. We took the salt and then the lemon, scrunching our faces. We laughed at the warmth the tequila had just produced. As we finished, Mapi looked at me in silence, furrowing her brow.
"One thing," she began speaking. "I haven't told you my name, have I?"
"Mapi León," I responded confidently but fearing that it might make her uncomfortable.
She smiled.
"That feels strange," she laughed. "I thought you didn't know who I was because nobody in this bar ever told us anything."
"We wanted you to feel comfortable."
"Thank you," she sincerely replied. "What's your name?"
"Mía."
"And you're Irene, right?" she asked, this time looking towards my friend. Irene nodded. "So, you know who Alexia is too, right?" I furrowed my brow at her question, so she continued speaking. "Well, all of you, I mean."
