~Thirteenth Part~

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I just stood in front of him. I couldn't say anything. I only felt that tears ran over my face.
"Hey, don't cry," I hear Marc. "If I made a mistake, please forgive me. I would be glad if you could help me remember anything," he said. I quickly wipe the tears and look at him: "N-no, it's okay. Y-you didn't make a mistake," I stutter. I can't tell him that we're cousins - but basically we're not, and certainly I can't say that we were a couple until yesterday, but no we're no longer. He looked at me with those gorgeous eyes and he was probably waiting if I'd said something else. "I'm S-Sara," I stutter again, "your youngest cousin. Gloria, who's waiting outside is older than you," I explain. Marc nods and it seems that he's trying to record everything in memory. "How many years you're younger than me?" he asks and looks at me from head to toe. I see a sparkle in his eyes. God, please. Let him remember that I'm his girlfriend. Please!
"A year. Do I look younger?" I answer and he smiles: "Yeah, I would say that you just turned 18."
I start laughing: "Thanks, Marc. The blow in your head didn't changed you."
"Come and sit here, please. I have a few more questions," he said and shows me to sit on his bed. "I'm all yours," I say and I stopped for a while when I realize what I just said. "Really?" he asked and smiles widely. "Well, you know what I mean... just ask." I feel that I blushed. "Okay. How old is your sister?" he asks. "She'll turn 26 in few weeks."
Marc nods and continues: "Do we live close?"
"Yeah, we're neighbors."
"Your dad and my dad are brothers, right?"
"Yeah, yours is two years older than mine and he's much more friendly. I have always preferred him," I confess. "Why?"
"You know... it's complicated. We can talk about that some other time."
He nods again: "Okay. Are we hanging out a lot?"
"You and me?" I ask and he smiles. "Not too much in last few years," I said sadly. "We had a fight?"
"N-no. At the age of eighteen, my dad sent me to study in London. I'm in a boarding house where there is no internet or TV, and we can only call home once a month."
"Are you sure he sent you to London? This sounds like a lost country, but not on this planet. We're in the 20th century!"
"21st, Marc," I corrected him and smiled. "Oh, it's true. Please, continue, I love to listen to you," he smiled again.
"Okay, where did I stay...?"
"The boarding house in "London"," he shows quotes in the air and I laughed. "In childhood we spent a lot of time together. You, me and Alex were inseparable. We went to ice cream several times a day, we played in the park, and we teased our parents. I escorted you to the first motocross training..."
"So, I'm really devoted to engines whole my life?"
"Yeah. Engines are your greatest love. Races are your passion. At the age of 17 you became the world champion in Moto3, at the age of 20 in Moto2 and then you moved into MotoGP and in years 2013, 2014 and 2016 you won the championship."
"And who won in 2015?"
I kept silent for a while. Not because I wouldn't know, but because the championship winner was Jorge.
"You also don't remember it?" he joked.
"Of course I remember. The winner was Jorge Lorenzo. You were third. Valentino Rossi was between you."
He looked at me as if he heard about these names for the first time. "Marc... you don't know who is this?"
He shook with his head: "I remember that I had heard of Rossi, but Lorenzo is completely strange to me."
Even if he didn't lose his memory, he would probably say that he don't know Lorenzo.
"Are we good friends?" he asked me. "Ugh, friends... you all respect each other, I know that. But you're not friends. You're a big rivals, you know."
He nods: "Yeah, I can think so. So, who of the drivers is my friend?"
"Can you remember any of them?"
"I'm close to Emilio and Santi," he said after a while. "That's right. Emilio is your and Alex's manager and Santi is the boss of your team. What about Dani? Do you remember him?"
"Dani... I remember that I was at his party few days ago."
That party. I hope that he's remembering only that and no other details.
"It's true. Dani Pedrosa. He's your good friend and he's your mate in Repsol Honda Team."
"I remember him," he laughs, "he's small and funny." Now I start laughing too. We've been watching at each other for a while. He's so perfect. Despite all the bruises and scratches, he's perfect. He's mine.
"Can I ask you something else?" he said. "Of course," I smiled. "Ehm, well... I saw my parents and my brother and they have told me that my aunt is here and my uncle had to go to work. Then you and your sister are here, my cousins. My parents told me that my grandparents also come to visit me. But, what about... well, you know... what about my girlfriend?"
I don't know why I'm surprised. I could have thought that he would ask me something like that, right?
"Don't you remember any of them?" I asked quietly.
"I have more of them??" he asks quickly. "No, you dumb. You probably have had more of them... if you understand me?"
He nods: "I had one, then I broke up with her and then I had another one..."
Yeah, he remember how it goes. Bravo, Marc.
"You don't remember any name?" I ask him and he shook with his head. "Look, I think this is not so important. You're single for a while and I don't know anything about your hidden or short relationships."
He laughs: "Do I have a lot of fans?"
"Too much. From babies to great-grandmothers."
He laughed again: "You're exaggerating." I laugh too: "Believe me."
Someone knocks on the door. "Can I come in," Gloria asks. "Of course," I say and get up when she approaches us. "Hi, Marc. How are you?" she asked and kissed him on the cheek. "After a great conversation with Sara, I feel much better. Thank you," he answered and smiled. "Marc, this is your other cousin, Gloria," I tell him. "I think I have seen you somewhere," Marc laughed. We can't stay serious either. "You're unbelievable, Marc. I hope that memory returns to you as soon as possible. We were very worried about you," Gloria said. "No more worries. I'm great. Sara promised to help me with my memory."
I nod: "It's true. When you get home from the hospital, we will all help you to remember everything."
We're still chatting for a while when a friendly older nurse interrupts us: "It's time that Mr. Marquez rests and takes a nap."
"Of course. We'll see you tomorrow again, okay?" I say and Marc nods. Gloria hugs him and then turns to me: "I'll wait outside. Bye, Marc." Marc waves to her: "It was nice to see you."
"Well, it's time to go," I say when he takes my hand: "Thank you for coming. I feel that there is a special bond between us. I dare to say that you're not only my cousin, but also my best friend. Thank you for everything." Here are tears again.
"No problem. Now, take a rest."
He nods: "You'll come tomorrow again, won't you?"
"Yeah. See you," I gently kiss him on the forehead. He still holds my hand and he doesn't want to let me go. He looks me deeply in my eyes and smiles at me. "Khm," we heard the nurse so we looked at her. "I am really sorry," she says and Marc released my hand and laughs. "I don't want to bothering you but the rest after a strong concussion is compulsory," the nurse nicely said. "Of course, I am leaving now. Bye, Marc. Behave yourself," I say and smile when he winks at me.

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