Magic in Costa Rica

Polka Dots and Knots

I found Carla and Mark sitting in between the bookcases in the library, chatting happily, oblivious to me as I walked in, still blushing from my encounter with Mr.- Fuck- Matthew. As I took a seat, Carla finally looked up with an inquisitive look on her face.

"So, how was it? Did you see him?"

"Nope," I shook my head casually.

"That's a lie. I can always tell when people are lying," Mark said, snapping his fingers.

"Wha- Are there any other special gay abilities you'd like to tell us about, Mark? You got a metal detector in there somewhere?" I shot back.

"Well, I did swallow a magnet when I was in middle school, but I had to get that surgically removed, so... no." Mark shook his head slowly with a very serious expression. Carla looked over at him, eyes narrowed.

"That is such a lie!" she exclaimed.

"Fine, you got me," Mark's face broke into a grin. I stared, dumbfounded by him. Since when was he a part of our friend group anyway? I was barely comfortable with one friend, I didn't know how I felt about having two. Plus, he was so weird. Not because he was gay, of course, but who would make up such an obvious lie and tell it to someone they barely knew? Oh, right, I would. I remembered how I told Carla that we kept my mom's ashes in two separate urns, and how that moment solidified our friendship.

Usually, when I told people the fake story of my mother's death, they got freaked out and ran away. That was mostly why I didn't have any friends before Carla. That, and I constantly kept others at a distance because I was (well, am) afraid that if anyone uncovered the real me, they wouldn't like what they saw. Carla didn't run away from me, so, I decided, I wasn't going to run away from Mark. Maybe he and I were more similar than I thought. Both of us had things that we didn't like to talk about, and, well, both of us loved Carla. Finally, after almost a minute of contemplating in awkward silence, I smiled.

"You're a real piece of work, Mark," I said matter-of-factly. Then, both he and Carla burst into laughter. I shook my head sarcastically, but soon I was laughing too. After a couple minutes, the librarian came over to shush us and we were forced to pull ourselves together. Carla sighed, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"So, Alma. Was it a lie? Did you see him?" she interrogated. I paused.

"Yes," I finally admitted.

"I knew it!" Mark shouted and raised an arm into the air. The librarian glared at him.

"Mark, you're gonna get us kicked out!" I scolded. He put his arm down and sunk further against the bookcase. "Anyways, yes. I was just about to leave when he came in with a bowl of soup. I guess now that he has an office, he doesn't want to eat in the teacher's lounge anymore." Carla wrinkled her nose and tilted her head to one side.

"He was eating soup? Like, hot soup? It's 83 degrees outside."

"Yeah, that's what I said," I laughed. Carla leaned forward.

"Was he wearing something stupid?" she asked.

"Yes. Plaid on plaid," I said, holding in a coy smile. Carla leaned back and put a hand on her forehead in frustration.

"What? Alma, seriously?" She groaned and I nodded. "I can't believe this is the guy you like. Anyways, how was it? Was it weird to see him again?"

"Not really, actually. It was nice. I mean besides the fact that he wants me to call him Matthew now, that's definitely weird. But, otherwise, we talked about Shrew for like two seconds, and I left." Mark squealed at the mention of Shrew.