It´s All for You

by Tici Pontes

  “Do you have a pen?” She handed me a pen with the lid all bitten off.

  “You can fill out the form in the reading room, which is over there.” She pointed to the space with the tables.

  There were only two or three people in the room.

  I nodded thanks, taking the paper and the pen — taking care not to touch the lid that must have been all frilly — and walked towards the reading room.

  When I finished filling out the paper I returned it to the receptionist, along with the tainted drool pen, and went for a walk between the shelves. Copies of all kinds were available.

  I'm in heaven, I thought with a smile on my face.

  I went home just to get the ID required to finish the registration and some books to start my studies.

  The library would be my place to dedicate myself to the subjects that would be in the ENEM. In my home Miguel would not stop and I would never get enough silence to concentrate on what I was doing.

  When I finally sat down in my chair and opened the books and notebooks in the discipline of Portuguese — one of my favourite — I detached myself from the world.

  After three hours of study, a noise began to bother me and I was already raising my head to curse anyone when I realized that the source of the noise was my belly.

  My God, it's two o'clock in the afternoon, that' s why I'm starving!

  I didn't see the time go by.

  I put the books in my backpack and went home for food.

  “Mom, where's the food?” I asked when I saw the clean stove with no pot.

  “In the refrigerator,” she answered from the living room while handing Miguel several colorful books that he stacked on top of each other. “I thought you were going to eat on the street.”

  “I even thought about it, but I had no money,” I answered as I opened the refrigerator and put the food on my plate.” The place there is so quiet that I didn't even feel time running by.” I put the plate in the microwave and waited.

  “I'm glad you found a quiet place to study, dear child.” Mama used to talk to me at the same time as she didn't take her eyes off the room where my brother used to play.

  A noise of several pieces falling to the floor and a lively laugh of a two-year-old baby made me smile.

  “Yes. I'm going to study during the day and at night I attend classes on the computer, they have a schedule and everything,” I spoke referring to the online class that my father had enrolled me in.

  “It will be great for you. Alice, taking advantage of the fact that you're home, can you stay with Miguel while I go to the market?”

  “Sure, Mom. Just let me eat.” I took the plate out of the microwave taking care not to burn my fingers and started lunch.

  After devouring the food I sat down on the living room floor with my little brother and we started playing with the wooden blocks.

  The next day I went back to the library again, but after only an hour of study my head started to get full and I gave up studying. I was trying to clear my mind and concentrate only on my studies, but that day was hard. My gaze was all the time directed at the cell phone resting on the table.

  The phone would light up and go off several times indicating that the group of friends at school were agitated. The urge to see was enormous, but I was running away from anything that involved Rafael, and he could be in the middle of the conversation.

  I put my cell phone in the backpack and took out my copy of Sidney Sheldon's Master Of The Game, settling down on the couch to continue the reading that was already making me angry.

  How she had the courage to lobotomize her own son! What a bitch! I rebelled against the protagonist of the book.

  Time passed and little by little I was able to concentrate on reading.

  I looked at the clock on my wrist and promised myself that I would only read for about thirty more minutes and then go back to school, however, a shadow formed over me and I looked up to discover what was blocking the light.

  “You know, every reader should know that when you read a book in public the basic rule is to leave the cover exposed so that others can know what you are reading.” A male voice sounded in the room and I realized that he was the owner of that mysterious shadow.

  “Sorry?” That was my reaction.

  A pale face smiled at me. And when I say pale, it's because he was really pale. I've never seen anyone so... so... colorless.

  “The book...” He pointed to the copy that now rested in my lap. “I was curious to know what book he was reading.”

  “Oh, sorry! It's Sydney Sheldon.” I lifted the cover so he could see it.

  “Master of the Game.” He read the title out loud. “One of the best books I've ever read,” he answered with a smile. “Kate already...”

  “Whoa!” I raised my hand so he could stop talking. “Watch out for the spoiler. I hate this woman with all my heart, but I don't want you to tell me something I haven't read yet.”

  “I'm sorry!” He's still smiling. “I don't like her much either.”

  “You don't like her very much?” I asked indignantly, bowing an eyebrow. “You mean... you like her a little bit?”

  “She fights for what she wants, yeah.” He tried to justify her attitude. “That's something to be admired,” he admitted a little embarrassed.

  “Passing over everything and everyone!” I replied in revolt with his statement.

  Kate owned an empire and was simply the most unbearable woman of all time. She only cared about herself and didn't care about anyone's feelings.

  “Yeah, yeah!” He raised his arms. “You win! She's really a lost case.”

  “Now you're speaking my language.” I smiled victorious.

  I stared at the boy and realized that despite the pallor of his skin he was extremely handsome. He was tall, his black hair was messy, but in a beautiful way. His eyes were dark and surrounded by long eyelashes that would make any woman die of envy.

  I lowered my eyes before he realized that I was analyzing him, my cheeks were starting to warm up.

  “Well, tell me when you're done reading,” he said pointing to the book. I wasn't sure whether or not he'd noticed my look.

  “Yes... of course,” I replied shyly.

  “And let me introduce myself...” He stretched his arm towards me and I noticed a round band-aid with a teddy bear print on the fold of his arm. There were also some bruises on the arm, the kind that appear when you bump into something. “My name is Leonardo and you are?”

  “My name is Alice.” I shook his hand without being able to take my eyes off those marks. “Didn't you have some dinosaur print or something more manly?”

  “What do you mean?” He frowned.

  I aimed at his arm. He smiled, but immediately put his hand on the bandage to hide it.

  “They didn't have the normal bandage,” he justified himself as if he was really worried that I thought he liked teddy bears. “I took a blood test and... They only had this one,” he replied in a disconcerted way and I thought it was a bit cute.

  “I'm joking, silly,” I answered as if I've known him for centuries. Suddenly, I felt comfortable around him. “And you, what book are you reading?” I wanted to know, even without seeing any copies in your hands.

  “Confessions from the crematory,” he answered. “A girl tells about her experiences working in a crematorium.”

  “Gosh,” I grimaced, “it seems a little morbid.”

  “It's just real.” His expression got serious. “Death is part of life. People just don't want to talk about it.”

  I stared at him for a few moments, asking myself how we had gone on that subject.

  “And...” I coughed. “And you're feeling better?” I pointed to the bandage on his arm. I didn't know what to answer him on the subject of death.

  “One day, who knows.” Leonardo looked down and gave a half a smile, deviating from my question. “Well, Alice, I'll let you finish the book and then tell me what you found, huh? I'll read a little too.”
>
  Without looking at me he turned his ankles and walked away, sitting on a sofa on the opposite side of me. He took a book that was on a nearby table and laid down on the couch without ceremony.

  Is that allowed?

  I looked at the receptionists to see if they were going to fight with him or anything, but they said nothing.

  I spent a few minutes just watching Leonardo read, wondering if there was something behind that bandage, that pallor and that boy.

  Unconsciously, a question popped into my mind.

  What was wrong with him?

  The alarm went on ringing, waking me up at 8:00 in the morning like it always did. I dragged myself out of bed, throwing the sheets aside and got up walking towards the bathroom to prepare for a new day.

  Not that anything exciting was going to happen.

  My routine was boring.

  In the bathroom I started brushing my teeth and right after the first brushes I noticed the bristles of the brush dyed red.

  Oh, crap.

  I threw cold water in my mouth, throwing it from one side of my cheek to the other and when I spat, the liquid was red. I smiled at the mirror and confirmed what I already knew: my gums were bleeding.

  Even though it had happened before, it always ended up pissing me off. It was only to remind me of my health condition. Already with the irritated mood, I took a quick shower while the taste of blood invaded my mouth.

  It's going to stop soon.

  So I put on the first outfit I found and walked towards my bookcase looking for a new copy to read in the library, since I was practically finishing my current reading: Confessions from the Crematorium.

  While scanning with my eyes the several books that were still to be read, I visualized my copy of Master of the Game and remembered Alice. The girl I had met the day before. I smiled as I remembered her indignation with the protagonist of the story.

  I was interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door.

  “Come in,” I answered, choosing a random book and putting it in my backpack.

  “Where are you going?” she asked even though she already knew the answer.

  “In the library, Ms. Ana, as always.”

  “Don't you think you're spending too much time in that library, son?” She leaned against the doorway and kept looking at me.

  Oh, no. Not that conversation again at this time of the morning!

  “Mother,” I complained. “You know it's one of the few places I can go without worrying about... well... without worrying about getting anything.”

  I was already becoming dissatisfied with the overprotection my mother had with me. I understood her concern for my health to some point, but sometimes it was suffocating.

  I had been diagnosed with a rare disease over two years ago and since then my mother did everything she could to make me safe. At the time I was only 17 and found myself deprived of several things that a young man in my age was beginning to experience.

  My life was full of restrictions and the little freedom I still had was increasingly limited due to my mother's concerns.

  “I only worry, son.” She approached me and put her hand on my shoulder. “Where's your mask?”

  I rolled my eyes, got rid of her touch, and sat down on my bed, trying to stay calm.

  “My immunity is fine, I don't need a mask right now,” I answered. “Besides, I'm home.”

  “Leo...”

  “No, Mom!” I stopped her. “I know when I need to wear a mask, I know when I'm not feeling well enough to leave home, I know my limits, please, I just wish you wouldn't be on my foot so much, it's suffocating, you know?” I shot in one breath.

  As much as I might not be being fair to her, because my mother really cared about me, it wasn't fair to be deprived of basic things that I liked to do either. I already had so many limitations and would not allow my health problem — or my mother — to take away the little freedom I still had.

  I felt my throat tightening when I saw the expression on her face. Her eyebrows bowed down, her lips bent and her eyes a little lost.

  I knew that I was being hard on her, but if I wanted her to loosen her restraints a bit with me, I would have to be like that.

  As much as it hurt her, and me.

  I noticed that her eyes went sour and she walked towards the door with a sad look enveloping her.

  “I only want you well, Leo,” she spoke in a broken voice.

  Good, now I was feeling guilty.

  “I know, Mama.” I got up from where I was, approached her and pulled her into a hug. “But I can't be stuck at home. I can't, Mom.”

  She walked away from me far enough to face me and even with a tear running down her face, she smiled. She ran her hand across my cheek and deposited a wet kiss on my face.

  “I know that, my love.” She caressed my face again. “It's only a mother's concern. I just want you to take care of yourself, you promise?”

  “I promise.” I gave the kiss back.

  Then I remembered the bleeding gum and I decided not to tell her anything. One less worry.

  I followed her with my gaze until she left the room closing the door behind her. I finished gathering everything I needed to get out and went downstairs for breakfast, hoping that my mother wouldn't raise any more issues involving my health problem.

  Sometimes I just wanted to forget it existed.

  My life wasn't easy.

  Every day was a different fight.

  Am I gonna get sick?

  Is my immune system strong enough?

  Will they find a cure?

  Are they gonna find a donor?

  There were so many unanswered questions and so many frustrations throughout the treatment that I mostly just tried to ignore the existence of the disease.

  As much as it was kind of impossible.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head trying to forget everything about my health.

  I remembered again the unexpected encounter with that girl.

  Well, not that unexpected.

  She'd already been to the library and I couldn't help but notice her. She spent hours immersed in books and barely noticed the movement around her. She must be new in town, because I'd never seen her around.

  Sure the town wasn't that small, but... I don't know... something about her didn't seem to fit that place.

  She was different.

  The other day she almost killed me with curiosity when she started reading a book, and because of the facial expressions she made while reading, I realized it was a reading that was taking away a lot of emotions from her. The girl looked like she was going to walk into the book and slap someone at any moment.

  It was when curiosity spoke louder, shyness stood aside, and I decided to get closer to try to bring up some conversation.

  And I saw that she seemed nice.

  When she showed me the cover of the book it was already a sure fact that I wanted her as a friend. Sidney Sheldon, man!

  One of my favorite authors.

  Alice was reading one of my favorite authors!

  I wanted to get to know her better.

  To meet her more often.

  Talk to her more.

  Apart from that she would be a companion in the middle of all my loneliness. And besides... as obvious as it seemed... She was a girl.

  Beautiful, by the way.

  Apart from not going out much, except to the library — my mother being one of the reasons — the only contact with girls I had was during hospital stays. I was already a bit tired of sick people.

  I was enough.

  Even though I hadn't talked to her much, I decided I wanted more. And that was the only thing I wouldn't miss.

  Would you like a nice talk with someone?

  Talk about books.

  And I was already looking forward to discussing everything about the Master of the Game that she was reading.

  Smiled again.

  The image of her was locked inside my head.

  Her black hair, h
er glasses too big for her face, her frowning and the mouth she was doing while concentrating on reading her book.

  I sighed deeply, hoping that Alice would be there again, immersed in the books and that she would give me an opening for a new round of conversations.

  Hopefully she'd finished the damn book, I thought hopefully.

  To my pleasant surprise, when I set foot in the library that morning, there was Alice. With her backpack on her back and her hands full of books, preparing for a day of study.

  I stayed a little away, watching as she opened a huge math book and smiled when, once again, she started frowning and pecking with her lips.

  Soon that expression turned to frustration when she started to show that she wasn't understanding the bullshit she was reading.

  With the smile still on my face I approached.

  Thank God I was good at math.

  And so, in a very nerdy way, through a math tutoring class, I can say that our friendship, and also our history, intensified.

  “So?” I put myself in front of her. Alice was immersed in a huge book, the unfriendly face and the look like she didn't understand anything. “Did you finish reading Sydney?”

  Alice took her eyes off the huge book open in front of her and stared at me, smiling when she saw me, but she soon got serious and made a crying face.

  “Not yet,” she grumbled, closing the book in front of her. “That damn math won't let me do what I want.”

  “Oh, it's not even that hard.” I sat down next to her and pulled the book towards her. “I'll help you with the math and then we'll talk about what you've read from the book, okay?”

  Alice nodded yes and straightened herself in the chair, leaning her body towards me — in fact, towards the book — and I could sense a sweet smell coming from her hair.

  “W-well, come on.” I stuttered by accident. “What shall we start with?”

  “The easiest,” she mumbled in discouragement.

  “Percentage, then.” Smiled.

  We started studying and slowly the discipline began to return to my memory and it wasn't hard to teach Alice everything I had learned when I was still studying.

  And the routine began to set in.