Chapter 1
Sometimes I think about how it would feel to have someone like you back. I guess it’s nice. I wouldn’t know.
“Hey, do you… do you want to go out with me? Maybe this weekend? We could get some ice cream and then go to the movies.”
I stare at the couple in the garden from one of the open windows on the ground floor. I’m basically in their faces, but they’re too busy to notice me. Lucky me.
The guy is red up to his ears and I can see the sweat stains under his armpits. His black hair is cropped and he is trying to look her in the eyes. How adorable. She is smiling, showing her braces, and her brown ponytail bounces with her nodding head. The scene would be so poetic if it weren’t for the dead tree behind them.
Whatever, it’s cute.
I smile at their loving expressions. I’m envious, yet happy for them.
They hug, and I decide it’s time to go.
The next class is about to begin, so it’s best I move. I walk through halls, up the stairs, another hall. This school is a stupid labyrinth and I bet the office enjoys giving us classes as far apart as they can. At the moment I’m attending the pre-university course of three years, which allows us to prepare for any possible degree, giving us the chance to go to advanced classes and take exams. I want to get into vet school.
Spanish class is one of my favorites and a guilty pleasure of mine. Even if it’s not really related to the future I planned, I had to put it in my study plan. We have an actual Spanish teacher that comes from Barceloneta, so the pronunciation is spot on and I always look forward to listening to his speaking.
I sit in the second row and take the books out of my bag. All my stuff is in pastel pink, my favorite color. The desk beside mine is empty, still.
I check the door. Stella is usually late. I once asked why she had chosen Spanish since she was from Bilbao, and she said: “Girl, I’m here for you! You know how boring Physics is without a good friend? God forbid we don’t have at least one class together.” And it felt pretty nice to hear it. I’m not the friend you think about when you want to go out, and I respect that. Stella, however, seems to do just that, and it always makes me feel giddy and happy inside. Grateful, too. I met her last year, and she hasn’t left my hip since.
I look at the other classmates. They’re chatting, in groups or more often in pairs, with the ones they chose at the beginning of the year. Some say hi to me, which is pretty nice, but they don’t stay to talk. I don’t try to make small talk, either.
Finally, Stella comes through the door and I automatically sit straight. I think I’m afraid of her leaving me if she finds me boring or not interesting enough.
She slumps on the chair with a big oof, the bag on the table. “I can’t believe it’s still Tuesday.” Stella kisses me on the cheek. “I actually think it’s worse than Monday.”
“I mean, at least Monday is a beginning.”
“Right?! Tuesday what does it do? It makes Monday longer!”
I slam on her shoulder with mine. “I’m sure it’s someone’s favorite.”
She grimaces.
The professor chooses this moment to come into class. He’s suited up, a rather frail man with a few hair on his head. I believe he’s next to retire, and I’m a bit melancholic about it, because Mr. Sanchez is nice and kind, one of the few that actually listens -if you speak Spanish, that is.
“Hola, chicos, ¿qué tal?” he asks, leaving his suitcase on the seat. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speaking English, which sometimes is complicated for others. “Did you do your homework? Today we’re doing speaking practice.”
Interesting. I know he won’t put me with Stella since we’re the ones with the highest score in class, and I can already see her scanning the room for a potential partner. She translates for the girls behind us in a lower voice.
“Very well. I’ll write the couples on the blackboard. Remember, you can’t change your speaking partner.”
I stare at the board, the marker moving slowly. Mr. Sanchez isn’t fast, so it takes him like five minutes. “You don’t have to move your desks and chairs, it’s just a chat. Change place as you like, you have ten minutes.”
Got it.
I check my name on the board, and I see it’s coupled with Emmett Hart, who seats in the first row. He arrived this year, but doesn’t talk much. He looks pretty shy, with his wavy hair covering his eyes, round glasses and flushed cheeks.
“Oh, mierda.” Stella holds her forehead, eyes wide and twitching. “He put me with fucking Lily. She can’t even write or read basic English, let alone Spanish! I don’t do miracles, yet!”
“I’m sure you can do it,” I keep a smile from getting out. I can understand her frustration: Lily is just here because her parents pay. A lot. And she doesn’t even try being good, she’s just insufferable. “Aren’t you the best of the best?”
She sighs and eyes me. “I am. Fucking Lily, I swear to God,” she mutters, getting up. I turn, trying my best not to smile, and I see Lily using her phone, munching her gum and ignoring her surroundings until Stella lightly kicks her desk. “Scoot over, Princesa, porque no hay tiempo que perder*.” [*because I have no time to waste.]
“What?” Lily frowns. “I don’t speak that.”
“Too bad you’re in this class, then. Scoot over, we’re going to have a chat because I care about my grades.”
Okay, enough of that. Just like Stella, I care about my grades too, so I walk over to Hart on the other side of the class. He’s flipping through the textbook’s pages, frantically, his mouth moving quickly.
“Everything okay?” I ask, taking a chair and sitting in front of him.
He raises his face and pushes his glasses up the nose. “I was trying to memorize some words. I’m not the best at Spanish.”
I shrug. “You don’t have to be.” No one needs to be the best at everything. I sure know I don’t, but I can’t help but try. It’s exhausting, sometimes. “So? What words?”
Emmett shows me a vocabulary page: it’s family. His cheeks are a nice shade of pink, as if embarrassed. I can see with the corner of my eye that he’s touching his wavy hair. “I understand. Shall we try practicing? What do you say?” I ask the last part in Spanish, hoping to engage him.
Emmett looks a bit lost but tries anyway, and I appreciate that. “Yes, let’s start.” His voice is low, smooth.
I don’t really know what to say, honestly, because we don’t have a track to follow. I guess I could ask him about himself. “Okay. Where did you go to high school?”
“Uh, Dublin.”
“Complete answer, please.”
“I went to high school in Dublin,” he answers without complaints. Emmett actually leans forwards, eyebrows drawn together, concentrated. “You?”
“Here.”
“Right. Sorry, it was a stupid question.” I didn’t think it was possible, but he blushes even more.
“No, it wasn’t. Why did you come to this school? Do you plan on going to this university?” I ask, with the simplest words I can manage. This is not a challenge, nor a competition.
The school complex is so big it has middle school, high school, pre-course and a few university degrees, all in one. It is to say that it has a very limited student number, based on financial status-Lily, for example- and study merit.
Emmett nods. “I do. I’m studying to become an interpreter. I want to be able to speak with as many people as possible, that’s why I’m here.”
I’m impressed. “What other languages are you studying?”
He holds his hand up and counts on his fingers. “Spanish, French, German, Chinese, Japanese and Korean. Chinese and Korean I already know pretty well, French and German too. I’m mostly taking classes to take some dust off. Spanish, uh… I guess I have a bit of chaos in my head.”
I’m agape. Six languages? Is he kidding me? I eye him suspiciously. “So you can understand me?” I ask in German.
Emmett smirks. “I can. You speak it quite well.”
I grin. “Thanks.” I only ever speak German with mom over the phone, so it’s quite nice to use it with someone else. “My mom is from Munich.” I hold up a finger when he goes to speak again. “Let’s go back to Spanish.”
Emmett sighs, but still follows my lead. We keep chatting for the rest of the hour. He makes some mistakes, but nothing serious. He’s not doing so bad. I learned he has an older sister and a much younger brother, and he asked me about my family. Nothing too complicated and I can see him trying really hard to get the right words and verbs. He also asks me about grammar, and I gladly answer. I have to say, I like that he thinks so highly of me to even ask me questions about this. It doesn’t happen often, so it’s pleasant.
I dare to look at my friend in the last row: she’s talking through gritted teeth and Lily looks on the verge of a crisis.
“Very well,” Mr. Sanchez says when a phone timer goes off. “Today’s lesson is over. I heard some of you still don’t know many vocabs and verbs, so I recommend exercising harder, with a friend if possible. I remind you that at the end of the month a part of the exam will be a conversation with me.” He looks around, and I know what he sees: lost eyes, deep confusion and completely clueless students. So he writes ‘convo exam w teacher’ on the board and everyone gasps. He pursues his lips and also writes the exercises on the board before calling the class off. “See you Friday.”
He must be tired of this.
“Helen?” I turn around to find Emmett setting his glasses once more. He’s not looking at me.
“Yes?”
“You’re good at Spanish.”
“I am.” Where is he getting at?
“Could you help–”
“DIOS MÍO DAME LA PACIENCIA POR FAVOR." Stella throws herself at me. “I swear I lost twelve years of my life trying to get Lily speak some toddler-level Spanish.” I laugh. “Hey Hart. You good?”
“Sure,” he smiles politely. “I apologize, but I have to go to my next class.”
“Oh, wait,” I stop him when he gets up. “What were you about to ask me?”
Emmett shakes his head, his wavy hair bouncing with the movement. “Nothing important. Thank you for today, it was really useful.”
“No worries.” I look at him going and my eyes fall on his back. He’s broad. Is he a swimmer? His pace is fast, but he may just be late.
“He’s cute.”
“Hmm?”
“I said, he’s cute. Looks like Clark Kent.”
I frown and squint my eyes at Emmett’s back. “Does he? I didn’t notice.”
I did, in fact, notice.
“I know for a fact he’s single. You should ask him out!”
“Why would I do that?! I don’t even know him.”
“Uh, duh, that’s the point, to get to know each other. And then you could come on a double date with me and Leo!” Her eyes are glittery.
“Okay, you’re getting too ahead of yourself.” There is no chance of someone being interested in me. There are so many pretty girls in this complex, why would I be the one? “I’m going to biology class.”
Stella pouts, and I get it: she wants the best for me. She always tries to invite me to gatherings, nights out, even though it’s not really my tea, and to introduce me to some of her male friends. “Fine. See you after dinner for a cup of tea?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I kiss her cheek and then leave the class, wanting a minute for myself. Too bad I have to run.
The end of the day comes in a blur. After having tea with Stella and Leo in the common room of the dorms, I walk up the stairs that lead to my room. Leo -Leonardo, from Perugia, Italy- is kind of a himbo, and always has a funny story to tell. He and Stella fit so well together. The best part is that they never make me feel like a third wheel, so it’s nice to hang out with them.
As much as I enjoy being with my friends, though, all that running made me tired, so I can’t wait to get under the blankets and just zone out.
I unlock the door and take a step forward, but I almost trip back when my foot slides on something. I grip the handle of my wardrobe to keep balance and not break my head. I end up kicking my door shut with my butt. Jesus Christ, what’s–
My mind stops elaborating when I see a letter on the floor. It’s pink, with a red heart in the center. I look around, as if someone could be in this tiny room of mine.
Is this…
Is this a love letter?
