by M. C. S
“The one you're asking me to be,” she replied without any kindness. Then she lifted my face with her hand, I could feel a little confidence in her from the way she looked at me.
“Damned! I'm in love with Benjamin,” I finally confessed. “And I know he'll never be interested in a girl like me. I'm clumsy, I wear glasses, which everyone makes fun of, I make Olivia Oyl look fat, there's my mother who is very tough. I don't think any guy will want to face her because of me,” I poured out all the frustrations in my mind of why Benjamin would never look at me as I look at him. “And I'm not blonde,” I completed and my shoulders dropped.
“Do you think love is defined by races and colors?”
“No. But it seems that for Benjamin is...”
“Maybe you're misinterpreting Benjamin,” she interrupted me. “Love goes beyond appearance. It's a feeling, Elle, don't treat him like he just depends on what he sees. And then when beauty becomes so natural, doesn't it fascinate you that much? What will be left? Do you really know your friend? You should go deeper into him.”
“Has he told you about me?” she studied me carefully, her face becoming something unreadable.
“It is confidential, Gabrielle.”
“So he talked?”
“Your time is over.”
“Just a little bit more, please?”
“I have other patients.”
“Aren't you going to tell Ben anything? He doesn't know that I'm here. And you remember that you said the consultation is confidential. If you tell, I can use it against you later,” I didn't understand very well why I was making these threats, and I didn't even know I could make threats, but I did it anyway.
“I can hide it from patient Benjamin, but I don't know if I can hide it from my nephew Ben,” her words invaded my mind like a punch. A punch that gets you off guard, and that no matter how hard you try to deflect, you will never be able to stop being hit. Nothing could get out of my mouth right now. I felt a slight dizziness. A lump in my throat formed, I was fighting not to cry. I looked at the doctor, remembered her sarcastic smile that seemed so familiar. Then I met her eyes. As blue as Ben's, maybe not as impactful as his. But the traces that indicated some kinship between them were there. “Gabrielle, is everything all right?”
“Aren't you going to tell? Are you really his aunt?” my voice came out weak.
“Yes, I am. And I will not tell. You can trust. Come on, get up. I'll take you to the door.”
The doctor walked beside me, I fixed my gaze on the floor. She put her hand on the doorknob, stood for a few seconds with her hand resting on it until she said:
“I won't say anything, but I don't know what you will say to Benjamin, my next appointment is with him. He must already be in the waiting room,” I felt the slight dizziness overwhelm me again.
“What? He didn’t tell me anything. It is true that last week he told me that this week he’d have one of his unavoidable commitments, but I didn't think it was today. I didn't imagine it was with you. What will I do?” I could not control myself, I was already panicking, I did not stop the tears from falling. I took off my glasses to clean it.
“Calm down, Gabrielle. The doctor touched my shoulder gently.”
“Please let me hide in your bathroom.”
“I'm sorry. But the consultation is confidential. I can't talk to Benjamin while you're listening to everything from inside the bathroom. You will have to face this situation. It will be good for you.”
“I don't know how if Ben knows that I came to his psychologist to check on his life it would be good for me.”
“This will be good for you to overcome your shyness. I will accompany you.”
“No!” I put my hands over my face and shook my head frantically in denial. Dr. Andréia put her hands on mine and gently removed my hands from my face. I was in a panic.
“Calm down, Gabrielle. You don’t want Benjamin to see you like this, do you?”
“You're not helping,” she walked past me, went to her desk and took the box of tissues, held it out to me, I made no refusal. Dry my tears, at least I tried. I take a deep breath and meet my worst nightmare.
I step into the white ceramic of the waiting room, below my gaze, but Ben's wheelchair is immediately noticeable to me, wiping away another tear that insisted on falling. I look to the side and see Ben's mother talking to the receptionist. Ben is here. His face hard, looking questioningly at me.
I ignore him. I quicken my steps, abruptly passing him. I run. I reach out and my hands reach for the door, pushing it with all the strength left. As soon as the sun dims my vision, I know I am outside the building. I go down the short staircase. But I hear the hum of the wheelchair on my heels.
Then finally I hear him calling for me. My feet were already on the street, for Ben it would be impossible to get past that point, and I was also banned as the cars were moving at high speed. If I wanted to escape him, I would have to run to the crosswalk, which was a little away from me. For this feat to be done for me, I would have to go through Ben, who now descended the ramp. I allow myself to look at him. Ben raised one eyebrow. He seemed to be confused.
“Elle, what are you doing here?”
“W
hat does people do in a clinic?” I said, while fighting with my heart not to come out through my mouth. I put my hands into the pocket of my jeans, trying to hide how shaky they were.
“You didn’t understand. What are you doing at my aunt's office?” Ben was more specific.
“Is she your aunt? I didn't notice any resemblance,” I really did not notice any resemblance, except after she actually announced who she was. I hung my head down, staring at my feet, but I could imagine Ben's incredulous expression. He knew something did not fit this story.
“Why did you run away from me?”
“I didn't want you to know that I had an appointment with a shrink. I didn't want you to think I'm crazy.”
“What a coincidence! We are consulting with the same shrink!” I looked up, his eyes were cold. “Just I don't believe in coincidence, Ga-bri-e-lle,” he spelled my name slowly. His voice was firm but still quiet. “You knew I was consulting here,” he said. “What really did you come here for?”
“I told you,” I felt the tears fill my eyes, and soon a wave of them overflowed, rolling hot across my cheeks. I filed while a hiccup threatened to hatch down my throat, swallowed it before confessing to my crime, head down: “I came to ask some questions about you.”
“What kind of questions? And please, now talk looking at me,” I looked up. I was in one of my most pitiful states. I would have to tell the truth before his aunt did.
“I asked if you think about suicide,” Ben's eyes suddenly turned dark, he pursed his lips. He was angry, surprised, disappointed. I broke the trust built between us. He had a heavy expression in his face.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“You’d lie.”
“Yes, I’d. But so what? You had no right to do what you did. You had no right to come here, to plot everything behind my back. You cheated on me, Elle. I trusted you, and you didn't value it.
“I’m sorry.”
“One of my faults is not to forgive easily. Do you know how private an appointment with a shrink is?” I nodded. “That means I didn't want to tell anyone. I had already told you no. I hate you!” words cut more than a knife, and Ben knew it, that is why he put them out with such contempt, contempt for me. It was fine that Ben did not love me the way I wanted, but I did not want him to hate me either.
“What's going on here? Elle, are you crying?” it was Ben's mother; I did not realize when she approached.
“Mom, take me inside. If I drive my wheelchair myself, I may risk throwing it in front of a car,” Ben disdained, turning his chair with his back to me.
“But what about Elle? We cannot leave her like this.”
“Mom!” Ben called her.
“You'll be fine?” I did not answer. Of course I would not be fine, not with this fe
eling that was the end, that I caused that end.
“Mom!” he called her again. Mrs. Ana took the handle of the chair, guiding Ben inside. He did not look back for a moment.
A black hole was swallowing me, I was falling, and there was no one to hold my hand, to lift me up. I let the hiccup hatch in my chest before I could make the first move.
My steps were heavy. I had a fifteen-minute walk to my house, but it seemed like this walk would last forever. I walked with my head down, leaving a trail of tears along the way. Several curious glances crossed my way, some of them compassionate, but no one dared to approach to ask what was going on.
The morning sun burned my skin, and I could finally smile when I reached the gate of my house. I would no longer have to deal with the prying eyes. I could cry on my pillow without being disturbed. But I could only get to the porch. I was there for almost an hour, crying, had lost track of time. I walked in and went straight to my room. I grabbed my cell phone and called the only person I could trust in a time like this. I insisted about five times, she was in class, but as a good friend I knew she would find a way to reach me.
Carla went to the restroom; I heard the noise of someone flushing. She knew I would not insist if it was not urgent. Not that the breaking up with my friendship with Ben is a matter of urgency, but I needed to vent. I cried a lot before I could say anything. An hour later Carla was at my house. She knew how to play the role of a sick person very well. She had already played a similar role like this for a drug commercial when she was a child. As much as she didn’t like it, the art of acting was in her artistic vein.
One of the positive things about being Carla’s friendship is that she never uses “I told you”. She stayed with me, holding on to my pity that I had not researched properly about the doctor I barely noticed her picture on the internet.
Now Ben hated me and treated me like I was a traitor.
My luck was that my mother would not have lunch at home today. So I would not have to pretend to be all right, but I knew that tonight she would fill me with questions, and I did not know how much I could answer without falling apart.
We were on the porch, where I could clearly have the street view. I watched Ben mother's car around the corner. Either the consultation took time or maybe they went somewhere later. I left the porch and walked to the gate.
“Elle!” Carla called me. “Don't play ridiculous. Get out,” I knew she was right. But it is not just because she was right that I had to obey her.
I watched Mrs. Ana activating the ramp, and then Ben descending on it. I saw him briefly turning his head back, feeling that someone was watching him. As soon as Ben was on the sidewalk, he turned the chair towards my house, without any shame he showed his middle finger to me and again turned the chair, but not before watching my astonished face.
“You know where to stick!” Carla yelled, catching Ben mother's attention. I took Carla by the arm and pushed her inside.
“You didn’t need to say that.”
“And could he have done what he did?”
“I deserved.”
“No, you didn't deserve it. Ben is the one who should stop acting like an asshole,” I let Carla fire what she thought of him. I was not in the mood to disagree, since I knew she was right.
Carla stayed with me until night came but left before my mother showed up. If she did not do that, she would have to explain why she said she was feeling sick and had not gone home.
At dinner, my mother filled me with questions, some of them regarding consultation and some about my future. She wanted at all costs to know if psychology area would be the one that I would follow. I tried to answer all quietly without arousing any suspicion. I ate for food; for me it tasted nothing, but I had to convey the message that everything was fine, even though I was devastated inside.
20th Day
It was Friday and I was hoping that Ben would not show up at school after yesterday. By the look he shot when he saw me, I think he meant that I should not have come to school today. Indeed, I had screwed up.
Today my eyes focused on the books, I reviewed the materials for the tests. And I did not want anyone to notice that Ben was not talking to me, he used to be a good talker. So I think his sudden silence would cause a little strangeness, causing whispers. I turned the page of the book, although I did not read anything from the previous page, but no one needed to know that. I put my hand on my forehead and propped my elbow on the table, peered at Ben from the corner of my eye. He was more serious than when he returned to school after the accident.
The I hate you said by him yesterday, insisted on echoing in my mind. I was trying to believe that he only said in a moment of anger. That moment when your brain does not work properly, and you end up saying everything your mouth wants, but it makes your heart bleed when your brain goes back to reasoning. But it seems that this was having the opposite effect on Benjamin. It did not seem that he regretted it.
“Can you stop looking at me?!” Ben made a shout to the whole room to hear. The students stared at me. I felt my ear burn as the blood flow did the job of turning my face red.
“I’m...” I couldn't finish and I stared back at the book. I still felt the stares in my back.
It was not long before the first class bell rang. It was Mrs. Bernadette's class. She spent the whole time talking, what avoided some of the prying eyes. At halftime, I waited for everyone to leave so I could talk to Ben. As soon as I got up from my chair, he left the room. No. Definitely, Ben did not want to talk to me.
“Give him a break,” Carla said as she touched up her makeup in the restroom.
“What if this time lasts forever?”
“It will not be. Ben needs you.”
“For what exactly? It's not a school assignment that will make him talk to me.”
“That won't be it. Ben likes you.”
“Does he? I asked mockingly.”
“He likes your friendship. Or do you think he would be in your company just because he has no option? He was popular. For the beauty? Yes. For being a faithful friend? Yes. For being rich? Yes. For being an asshole? Also.”
“Carla!”
“Anyway, I mean, Ben was paraplegic, but what stops him? He's still rich, handsome, talkative, asshole, okay, and a bit grumpy, which I think he was not before. But he still has the ability to make friends. But he prefers your company.”
I confirmed what Carla said shortly after we got out of the restroom and walked into the courtyard. Ben was infiltrated in a group of four girls. As he saw me, promptly started smiling. He wanted to show he were not so dependent on me that way. I felt Carla's hand protectively on my shoulder.
“Don't care about that. He's just being what he always was, an idiot.”
We walked to the cafeteria, and unfortunately, we had to pass through Ben and the little group of four girls. Beautiful. Popular. Smiling and available.
“But it's Ben who is making himself available,” Carla insisted. I knew that, but I had to say it was them, it was my honor not to admit it was him.
I ate my snack at an incredible speed. I drank soda with the straw, until I had nothing left to suck, but still insisting that there was at least some remnant inside.
“Stop flinching. Ben knows you’re looking at him. Look at that smile. You know that smile well. He’s making fun of you. I think he knows you’re in love with him.”
“Do you think the doctor told him?”
“She isn’t only the doctor, but his aunt as well. She must have been worried about a psychopath wanting information about her nephew's life.”
“Carla! You are not helping,” I took a deep breath, thinking of the nonsense I had committed.
The last two classes were even more boring. I did not like it when Benjamin moved to the back of the room. I could not look back all the time, the truth is, I could not look back. I did not want to let on that I was offended. I heard his laugh united with that of a girl, I did not resist and looked back. Ben’s eyes flashed in m
y direction. We stared at each other for a fraction of a second. So I got up and asked to go to the restroom.
I was thinking of a thousand ways to kill Benjamin. I wanted to kill him even though he was such a complete idiot to make me like him even more. I did not want to go back to class, so I stayed in the restroom for a few minutes, but I was interrupted from my moment of solitude when one of the students in my class came in, looking for me. I made up that I was feeling sick. I went to the principal's office, and she stared at me seriously over her perfect Ray Ban glasses.
“Yesterday was Carla, today you,” she said, not very convinced that I was feeling sick. I have never been a good actress, neither a good liar. “I'll let your mother know,” she said, still thoughtful.
“Why stopping her class? I've never been sick at school before, I don’t have any reason to be lying,” she nodded, but still did not believe me one hundred percent.
The headmistress walked me down the hall, her hand lightly on my back. I stopped before entering the room.
“Can you get my materials, please?” I did not want to face Benjamin, much less the whole room. I did not want anyone to suspect the true cause of my discomfort.
“Anything else? A tea, a coffee, or maybe a cookie?” was it my impression, or was she mocking me? Maybe it is because my mother and she have argued seriously once. I thought it was all settled between them. But what it seemed like was that she was having her little moment of revenge mocking me.
“I want Carla to come with me,” since she asked, I made sure to answer. “You know, if I ever faint on the way home,” she fixed her glasses in an unkind manner.
“I'll have Benjamin taking you.”
“No!” I held her fist in a moment of despair. “Not Ben.”
“You are neighbors. His mother told me that you get along very well, and Carla doesn't live in the same neighborhood as you.”
“Benjamin, you know. He can't help me if I passed out.”
“If your case is that serious, you'd better go to a hospital rather than go home.”