Jiminy Cricket. No one had ever called him that, but the nickname was quite funny. She’s gorgeous, he thought while admiring her face, lit by the warm glow of the bar. He realized all of a sudden that, to him, she would have looked gorgeous wearing a bin bag.
“Jiminy!” she repeated with a radiant smile.
“Sorry.” Focus! “Sorry, two shots it is then. But I’m paying this time.”
She seemed pleased with the deal.
He joked about her bad influence on him and swept his fringe out of his face. In his head it was a sexy move, but not in reality. She had a little bit of ketchup stuck amusingly in the corner of her lips.
Daniel ordered two shots and the waiter appeared shortly after with two shot glasses and a bottle of herb liqueur. They clinked their glasses together and drank.
Sofia said something that Daniel didn’t catch as the music was too loud. Then she licked her top lip, which turned him on.
“Tell me, kid, do you come here often?”
Kid? Where had that come from? Jiminy Cricket was alright, but now she was crossing the line.
“Why are you calling me kid?” he said, annoyed at having lost control of the conversation.
“I dunno, I guess I like it.”
Daniel looked around for help. Kiko and Oscar were still sitting at the corner table. They looked wrapped up in a serious conversation and not like they would be any help to him. Without knowing what else to say, he started acting like a dickhead.
“Well, I don’t like it.”
She looked at her beer and replied:
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“But I’m called Danny. Not kid.”
Great! What are you doing, you idiot? She’s charming, can’t you see? Be nice.
“Jeez, I didn’t know you were so grumpy. I’ll let you off seeing as you paid for the shots,” she said with a small mischievous smile. She stroked Daniel’s hand affectionately and winked at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
He stroked her wrist. She came a few inches closer and opened her mouth a little while he was looking at her lips, spellbound. Daniel was turned on. Beneath his jacket, his t-shirt was stuck to his skin. He swallowed. He had no idea how to hold a weapon, never mind use one. Nevertheless, that night he had one in his hand and something told him attack. Daniel’s muscles tightened in self-defence. He would never know what corner of his messed up mind the next words had come from but he slipped the next comment into the conversation:
“My girlfriend always calls me grouchy.”
An enormous full moon lit the damp pavement when the four friends left the bar.
“I had a great time, guys,” Sofia said while flagging a taxi. “Let’s do this again another time.”
Oscar and Kiko said goodbye to her with a kiss on the cheek. They weren’t exactly overjoyed.
“It’s been great to see you again,” Daniel went over and gave her a hug. “Why don’t you stay a little longer?” he whispered in her ear.
“It’s late. I should go.”
She pushed him lightly back.
“No worries,” replied Daniel. “See you soon, right?”
She looked him in the eye for an endless second and finally smiled.
“Of course, Jiminy!”
Kiko had fallen asleep in the back of their Uber, so Daniel took the time to mull things over. Finally, things had started going well. He spent the whole way back thinking of Sofia, without noticing the silly smile he was showing window.
Jiminy, he repeated in his head. It was his new favourite word. Jiminy...
He was so happy, he took his phone out of his pocket and started writing her a message.
Girlfriend! He has a girlfriend! Sofia reminded herself in front of the lift mirror.
Back home, she finished off a tub of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer, put on her pyjamas and lay down. That evening affected her mood for the next few days, and that scared her. She felt bad about herself. Why was she sad? There was no reason to be.
Her conversation with Daniel kept going around her head. Daniel... have you really got a girlfriend? Who is she? I’ve got to find out.
Ugh, he’s not worth it, useless. I’m wasting my time. I’m sure we’ll stay friends for a while until we drift apart and stop seeing each other. Or not? You never know.
The truth is, we had a great time. He was lovely. A bit serious now and then, but that’s because he was nervous. Because he likes me, he’s attracted to me in some way. Right, Jiminy? Do you like me? Maybe this girlfriend of his isn’t serious and I’ll be the one for him.
When she finally fell asleep, ping! Her mobile lit up on the bedside table. A message. I had a great time. You’re really special.
She replied with a dancing woman emoji.
8
Friday again. Damned Friday. The second hand of the kitchen clock pounded my brain over the oppressive silence. Time seemed to run incredibly slowly while I waited for a new note from my admirer.
What could I do, given the circumstances?
I thought about going out for a walk and not coming home until late. That way, he’d come but I wouldn’t be home, the world would keep turning like nothing had happened.
It didn’t take long for me to see the flaw in my plan. When I got home, I would see the paper on the floor.
I had thought about calling the police every day this week. But what would I say? A guy has come to my house, stopped by the doorway and left a letter? Who would sound crazy then? Anyway, to be honest, this boy, man or whatever, didn’t seem dangerous. If he turned out to be, if worst came to worst, I could use Rafiki as my guard rabbit.
Wow, I’m losing my mind!
I was in the middle of this emotional dilemma when voila, a new letter appeared:
I almost didn’t get to your house because of this crazy storm, but here I am, like every Friday. I hope you haven’t called the police. I’m worth getting to know. So, the only thing I want to ask you is; would you let me invite you out? How about a milkshake? I know a place where they do a great one.
P.S. I’ll wait for 20 seconds behind your door. Then, I’ll go back to where I came from. Will you open the door today, Angie?
I stood dead still with the paper in my hands. Twenty seconds. What was I supposed to do? I kicked myself for thinking of playing his game. I walked away from the door.
Then, in an attack of stupidity and through an impulse from some corner of my brain, I turned back and hurried to open the door.
There was no one there. It had been more than a minute since I had read the letter. The time had run out.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered. Then I slammed the door shut.
One thing was clear: this man followed the rules of the game, his own rules, down to a tee. A game that I had just begun to play.
9
Later that week, Oscar left the hamburger place where he worked earlier than usual. He had to hurry if he wanted to arrive to his date on time.
When he got home, he showered in record time, got dressed, grabbed some cash and opened the drawer of his bedside table. There they were, just where he had left them, next to a picture of his favourite football team’s crest – Oscar was superstitious and believed that this kind of ritual brought him good luck. He grabbed the box of condoms and looked at it thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure. Should he take them? If he took them, he may as well be admitting that he wanted something to happen. He checked the expiry date looking for an excuse not to take them. Damn, they’re still in date. In the end, he went for the easy solution: he took one, just in case. Who knows? If he dropped his keys in the bin again, he could use it as a glove.
He rushed out of the house and got to the cinema ten minutes early.
Jeez, Oscar, why the rush? his mischievous conscience teased him. As usual, he ignored it; if he listened to himself, he ran the risk of doing something sensible.
Carol must be on her way, so Oscar killed some time −and
some nerves− by checking his reflection in a window to see how he looked for the umpteenth time. A rebellious lock of blond curls danced on his forehead blown by the wind. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He had trimmed his three-day beard and he had put on his best aftershave.
Perfect. Trendy yet elegant.
Carol came into view in the distance. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail leaving her neck uncovered. She dressed as usual, jeans and a black top. Despite the noise coming from the cinema, Oscar could hear the sound of her heels. And of his heart. He waited to give her two kisses on the cheek but she was more forward and gave him a peck on the lips. Or had Oscar kissed her? She seemed relaxed.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked her looking at the listings.
“Watch? Whatever.”
Oscar looked at her without understanding. She gave him a half smile, driving him crazy. An uncomfortable sweat, caused by his nerves and excitement, ran down his spine. That night there would be no messing around.
In the end, Oscar bought two tickets for the latest superhero movie. Before going in, he ordered an extra large coke. The perfect drink to play it cool. That’s right, champ.
Oscar spent almost the whole film looking at Carol out of the corner of his eye. They didn’t kiss, they didn’t even touch, for the whole two hours of film.
They left the cinema hand in hand and went for dinner. They found a table at an Italian restaurant nearby. Oscar was having an amazing time with Carol, something he was starting to get used to.
They decided to walk off the pizza and tiramisu that they had shared by going to the Temple of Debod. An Egyptian temple donated to Spain as a symbol of gratitude back in the sixties, it was an enigmatic monument of the capital. However, the temple wasn’t the highlight of that place. Sitting atop a hill, it provided a privileged viewpoint overlooking the hundreds of hectares of land far off into the horizon. It was one of the most pleasant places in the city to watch the sun set.
“I bet you looked this up on the Internet before coming just to impress me, right?” Carol burst out laughing.
Oscar, also creasing with laughter, chased her around the park. “You’re such a bad girl”, he kept shouting over and over. When he caught her, they let themselves fall and he started tickling her.
Oscar had never been so desperate to taste someone’s lips. Underage lips, whispered Kiko’s voice inside his head.
They sat on a bench to admire the impressive scenery of the Casa de Campo Park. Suddenly, Carol climbed onto Oscar’s lap and looked him in the eye. The light from the temple glazed her cheeks.
“Much better here,” she said.
Oscar lost himself in her dark eyes. Enough thinking. He kissed her deeply. It was a sloppy and indecent kiss and he was fascinated. When he turned his head and saw the ghost of his Cuban friend with a disappointed look on his face, he knew he had some things to clear up.
“Carolina, this isn’t right, you know that. I’m driving myself crazy.”
She looked serious for the first time that evening. She contemplated him while stroking his cheek as if he were a new-born baby.
“Do you want this to happen?” she whispered.
Such amazing lips, he thought while licking his own.
“Yes. Of course” he managed to answer, feeling like an idiot a second later.
What do I mean, yes? What the hell am I doing? I’m fucked. Oscar felt closer to Kiko’s presence by the second.
She smiled again. Was it an affectionate smile? Or a victorious smile? It didn’t matter. Whichever it was, it was only fleeting and then she gave him a mischievous look. Oscar, terrified, kissed her again, this time with longing. He’d made his decision. She had made it for him. God, feeling dirty felt good, he thought as he played with her tongue.
At the door of his house, Oscar began to take the keys out of his pocket when, thanks to his nerves, he dropped his wallet. As he bent down to pick it up, he noticed the tip of a plastic packet partly sticking out of his wallet.
“Let’s get inside. I can’t wait,” Carol whispered into his ear while stroking his inner leg over his jeans.
Trembling, Oscar managed to get the key into the lock and the door opened. He let his tormentor pass first, who skipped inside while undoing the top buttons of her blouse.
With less and less blood in his head, a condom in his left hand and his entire conscience weighing down his right shoulder, Oscar came into the flat and closed the door behind him with a bang.
10
That Friday I had a plan.
After mulling it over for what seemed like forever, I had come to the conclusion that the most sensible thing to do was to find out certain information before making any rash decisions. Information is power, right? The plan was simple. It was written in capital letters on a piece of paper:
HOW DO YOU KNOW ME?
When he turned up, I would slip it under the door and a new game would commence.
With the paper in my hands, I felt as nervous as I did when, in third year of primary school, Juanito had come up to me to ask if I wanted to go to the park with him.
I didn’t have to wait long for the first part of the plan, which was simply for him to show up. His letter slipped through the gap under the door and stopped at my feet. It was eight o’clock on the dot, as usual. Trying not to make a sound, I crouched down to read it. Somehow, I could tell he knew I was there. And that he knew that I knew he was there. All that confusion made me feel, I don’t know, special?
I’m not going to stop asking you out until you open the door. I’ll keep coming for the rest of my life if I have to. I’m just an average guy who wants to get to know a beautiful girl.
I bit my bottom lip. I realised that for the first time, I wanted to open the door and see what he was like. Without thinking, I pushed my note to the other side.
I waited in silence. Seeing as nothing was happening, I pressed my ear to the wood and held my breath trying to listen. As if the sound of pencil on paper would help me decide if he was a good person or, on the contrary, a psychopath. I couldn’t hear the slightest noise.
I almost let out a gasp when I realised that my note had received a reply. I couldn’t have been more excited when I unfolded it:
I don’t know you, Angie. That’s precisely the point.
11
That Saturday, the sun was shining. Daniel decided to get up early to make the most of the day. He put on some jeans and a t-shirt then had breakfast while watching the morning news (and listening to the monstrous snores coming from Kiko’s room). When he left to go out and do some shopping, his flatmate still hadn’t shown any signs of life.
Pasta, grated cheese, tomato sauce, oil... have we got salt? I’ll get some just in case; was Daniel’s internal dialogue while filling his shopping trolley. A few minutes later, with two full shopping bags in each hand and cursing the day he had ditched his car as a means of transport, Daniel went back to the flat.
From the landing he could hear the landline ringing. He left the bags on the floor, checked how red his hands were from carrying the bags and, a little sore, opened the door and hurried to pick up the phone.
“Where the hell were you, climbing Everest?”
“No, catching snails,” joked Daniel.
“Oh, great!” said Oscar, who didn’t find it strange to hear his friend had been catching molluscs. “Are you busy right now?”
“Not until lunch time, why?”
“OK so, two Special Burgers, one without tomato, is that right?” Oscar said from the other end of the line.
Daniel held the receiver away from his ear and looked at it as if his friend had gone mad.
“What are you talking about?”
“My boss was behind me. Just follow my lead,” whispered Oscar.
“You’re working on a Saturday morning?”
“I’m afraid so,” Oscar recovered his usual tone “so shall we grab a drink in the bar below yours in about an hour?”
“Sounds perfect. H
ey, have you spoken to my missing flatmate?”
“Mm-hm, and what drinks would you like with that?”
Daniel smiled to himself.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I said have you spoken to Kiko?”
“Not since the other day. Tell him for me, will you?” Oscar was whispering again. “Gotta go, see you later!”
Oscar hung up before Daniel had chance to respond. As he hung up the phone, a cross between a grizzly bear and the living dead emerged from Kiko’s room. Daniel chuckled.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty!”
“Mornin’ Danny,” yawned Kiko. “Who was that on the phone? They woke me up.”
“It’s midday. Don’t you think it’s time?”
Kiko shrugged his shoulders. For him, sleeping for more than ten hours was absolutely necessary.
“It was Oscar. We’re meeting him in an hour. So hurry up and come back to the land of the living.”
Daniel was in a good mood that day.
Kiko grunted and shuffled into the bathroom.
They were sitting next to the window of Café Sulca watching the world go by. They often met up there to put the world to rights. Oscar used to say that this place was the best place to clock women that he could pursue afterwards. They knew Oscar was full of it; their friend was like a small dog, his bark was worse than his bite.
“For fuck’s sake, mate! I cannot believe you took that girl back to your flat!” Kiko shouted after hearing his friend’s news.
Daniel sighed and looked up at the ceiling, perplexed.
“Oh, God,” said Oscar, clearly feeling guilty. “Is it that bad?”
“I warned you,” reproached Kiko. “You’re a world class team and you just put all your eggs in the basket of a sixteen-year-old hoping to win the league. More than that, you’ve made her the manager!”
Daniel smiled. Using football metaphors was an old trick of theirs to play something down and let them say what they really thought.
Reflections in the Mirror Page 4