Lovefool (complete 1st part of Lovefool trilogy)

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Lovefool (complete 1st part of Lovefool trilogy) Page 20

by Amalia Angellinni

#19 EVERYTHING BUT THE GIRL

  The class trip was going to take place in the second week of January, to be followed by two weeks of winter holidays. Mia planned to stay at least one free week in Wroclaw. She talked about it shortly with her grandmother and didn't forget to thank her for the nice gesture.

  As she was packaging her bag, she was very excited. Then her cell phone rang and she saw Sebastian was calling. She reminded him of her plans and leaving the town for two weeks and promised to drop by. Since the walking in Lazienki they had met often, sometime she even dropped by and read books or did some work for him.

  After the death of grandma Zofia, she had at least two afternoons off and she felt comfortable enough to sit in his apartment and read. They didn't talk much. She didn't want to destroy this connection and he didn't want to force her into anything. He was pleased she was there. He got already used to her presence in his guest room as if it would be the most normal thing on earth and as if she already came to visit him for a long time.

  On the last afternoon before her class trip she was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed and read some old-fashioned literature. She was wearing a long beige cardigan and a white shirt. She was wearing her favourite blue jeans. She was looking friendly and warm.

  She was focused on the book, but she noticed him watching her every now and then. Sometimes she put the book aside and smiled at him. She was waiting for what he was expecting her to do.

  He looked at her every now and again and thought how to ask her about coming to his party. She noticed his rising excitement and didn't make it easier for him. It was great how it was and she didn't want to have anything deeper. He was a nice, friendly person who didn't ask her about things she was doing and it should be enough for both sides. She trusted him from the very beginning; there was a kind of connection between them, even if they didn't talk much.

  Now the status quo was apparently changing. She didn't like changes. She was opening up to him slowly. Nevertheless, she didn't want to rush into anything emotional. He was the first person whom she had allowed to step into her life. These steps were small and tiny as if she would balance on a spider web between the trees. Sometimes it was enough for her to observe the world from the perspective of an earthworm: then everything was simple and uncomplicated and she couldn't look back into her past.

  I liked to sit there in a chair, in a room with personal things like photos, pictures, books. It gave me an impression of being an average girl and it was so safe, so wonderfully calm and idyllic. It was the kind of home I would like to live in. I never had a home with mum and dad waiting for me to come and eat a meal with them or to talk about how I feel or what they are working on. I guess I didn't ever have an opportunity to learn how to let someone be a part of my life and I was just learning how to let myself go with somebody I like. It was like doing one small step after another hoping one day I will be a normal person with the ability to live with people and not only to be around them.

  For Sebastian she was a fancy riddle and he tried to understand her but he got too little points for any analysis. She was there, she was present, she made him feel so calm and so well, he didn't want to speed up this relationship. She was like the Rose for the Little Prince – something he couldn't understand at first, but what he was deeply loving, more or less consciously. She was like a broken dream, which had to be put together, which had to be glued together and it needed time to find all the loose pieces. Nevertheless, he already started to look for these small parts and he knew he had to be watchful and careful.

  When she was reading something with interest, she used to bite the right corner of her underlip and it looked so lovely. When she was thinking, she tapped her forehead with her delicate hand and squinted her eyes in a certain manner. She seemed to be always concentrated on what was going on around her and he had an impression (when he observed her for a while) that she noticed much more than she showed.

  Then he thought it didn't make sense to be so obsessively concentrated on what was going on around. His observations almost seemed to be self-created. They were just silly. This wasn't a drama nor a thriller; it was life. She was special, maybe a little bit bizarre, but she was the girl he loved and for him she was just extraordinary. She was fascinating and he could watch her all day and night. Now she was about to leave him for two long weeks. He already thought about possibilities to get into contact with her, but it seemed to be too much exaggerated from his side. They were not even a couple and they were not obligated to report anything to each other.

  It was a normal way of enjoying the time when she was here. He was doing his stuff, she was doing hers, but they both felt comfortable with it. A steady exchange of looks and smiles was a prelude to something that was growing between them. It was like domesticating a wild animal: every day you make a little progress, even if you don't notice it. And one day you would achieve your goal. Finally, constant dripping wears the stone.

 

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