My nerves betray me when I see Alejandro walk into the room. Before I can say a single word, I watch him cross his arms and let out a brief smile.
—Don’t worry about the car, I had it picked up at dawn —he says.
—And why didn’t you tell me sooner?
—I’m telling you now —he exclaims.
—You can leave now —I mutter defensively.
—We can leave, rather —he says. Your dad is calling you.
—Okay, you go on ahead.
I go downstairs wondering what they need me for. I see Alejandro again; he’s still there, standing around the house. “Doesn’t he plan on leaving?” I ask myself irritably.
—We’re going out. Do you want to come with us? —my father says.
—No, thanks. I already have plans for another time.
I head to the kitchen to wash the plate and, at that moment, Bryan walks in.
—We’re going too, since I’m here anyway.
—No. Where are you guys going?
—To have a few drinks.
—You go ahead; after I run my errand, I’ll catch up with you.
—Okay. Let me know.
In the end, everyone leaves and I take the opportunity to shower and get ready. Just as I finish, my phone rings: it’s Chris.
—I’m outside.
—Okay.
I hang up and hurry downstairs. I greet him with a kiss on the cheek and get into the taxi. We arrive at a dimly lit bar; we go in and settle at a secluded table in the back, in a corner. Without wasting a second, I get straight to the point and ask him what’s wrong.
—We’re going to drown our sorrows —he murmurs, looking weighed down.
The waiter brings us two beers.
—Let’s toast to our sorrows —I say, trying to lighten the mood.
We clink our bottles. We spent some time talking about trivial things until I decided to press him again:
—Tell me, what’s going on? You know you can trust me.
—Yeah, I know... that’s why I called you to meet up —he admitted in a dull voice.
From there, Chris began to pour everything out. He confessed that he felt trapped in a deep depression because things weren’t going the way he wanted. On top of that, several family problems were suffocating him; he explained that he just wanted to unwind a little, get away from his routine, and relax for a while to clear his mind. He had called me precisely so I could listen to him and give him advice.
I looked at him sympathetically and said many things to encourage him; I assured him that this rough patch would pass and that he could always count on me for anything he needed. Between one word and the next, the hours flew by. When I looked at the clock, it was already ten at night.
I noticed Chris was a little drunk from the beers, so I decided it was time to go. I ordered a taxi and made sure he got home safely. As soon as I got into the car, I felt much more relaxed knowing he was already on his way home, and I asked the driver to take me to the address my brother had sent me.
I texted Bryan to let him know I was on my way and to wait for me outside. When the taxi finally arrived at the address, I found Bryan standing at the entrance with my parents. They were already leaving; honestly, it was pretty late for them, since they’ve never really been heavy drinkers.
—Come on, let’s go in —Bryan said to me as soon as we said goodbye to my parents.
—We’re going to meet Alejandro.
The place looked like some kind of Chinese club. When I walked in, I realized the atmosphere was very comfortable and pleasant; I really liked it a lot. Alejandro was there, but not sitting at the bar — he was at a table. We made our way toward him.
—Look who it is, the one who ditched us —Alejandro said jokingly as soon as he saw us getting closer.
He looked me up and down in that particular way of his, as if my presence didn’t matter to him, but deep down I knew it did. I ignored the comment, walked to the table, and sat down next to my brother. They immediately served me a drink. I was already a little buzzed from the beers with Chris, but I didn’t care; I felt comfortable and wanted to have a good time.
While we caught up, Bryan turned to me and said in a low voice:
—I’m going to invest in a business with Alejandro.
As my brother talked about work with Alejandro, I listened to them attentively. It was right in the middle of that conversation that I finally learned Alejandro’s age. I was completely shocked: he’s only 26! With his maturity, his confidence, and the very grown-up way he speaks, anyone would have sworn he was a man in his thirties. I couldn’t help comparing the situation in my head; my dad is 41, and seeing a guy who is only 26 being his business partner was impressive. We spent a good while enjoying drinks and conversation until midnight struck on the clock. Right at that exact moment, my brother got a phone call.
—Did you enjoy your outing? —Alejandro asked me out of nowhere, breaking the ice while my brother walked away.
—Yes, it was good —I replied, trying to sound indifferent.
He poured me another drink. The alcohol and the atmosphere gave me the courage I needed, so I dared to bring up the topic that had been on my mind:
—I want to ask you something about what happened at the workshop... Why did you react like that to the comment the guy made? That wasn’t a good way to say it. Is there something between you two, or do you just not get along?
Alejandro kept staring at me, silently, analyzing my question. I felt so uncomfortable under his gaze that I made a move as if to get up from the table and go look for my brother. Noticing my movement, he stopped me.
—Sit down —he said firmly.
—You need to learn that not everything can be asked —he muttered, taking a drink.
Just then, my phone vibrated. It was Bryan saying he’d be back in a little while; and I knew very well what “in a little while” meant, which was that he wasn’t coming back. I poured myself a drink, downed it, and told Alejandro that he could leave if he wanted since my brother wasn’t coming. He didn’t say anything, and all I wanted was to stop thinking about Alex and everything related to him.
I saw Alejandro stand up and leave. I thought he had gone, so I poured myself another drink and my eyes grew damp. I felt a tear roll down my cheeks and asked myself, “Why do I always have to feel sad because of any action people take?”
—And why are you crying?
I looked up and saw Alejandro sitting back down.
—Life stuff —I told him, wiping away my tears.
I can say the alcohol brought out his talkative side; drink after drink, each conversation got more interesting, but he still remained guarded every time I tried to get information out of him. I gave up and just wanted to enjoy the moment. Between laughter and sour looks, we were both drunk by then. We paid the bill and left the club. I took out my phone to call a taxi, and he said:
—I’ll drive you.
—Okay.
We walked to where his truck was parked, I got in, and we left.
Half an hour had passed since we left the club when Alejandro’s truck jerked a couple of times, shut off, and wouldn’t start again. We got out into the dimly lit street, and he suggested we walk to his house, since he lived very close by. I agreed without thinking too much about it.
When we got there, he asked if I wanted to come in. I went inside out of curiosity to see what the inside of his house was like. I walked into the living room, sat on the sofa, and waited for him to come. Out of nowhere, a blackout left us in the dark. “I’ve got terrible luck,” I said.
I heard Alejandro’s footsteps and asked if he couldn’t find the keys. He said no. I turned on my phone flashlight and saw him coming closer.
—I can’t find them. Lend me your phone so I can light the way —he says.
I stood up to hand it to him, but I stumbled and his firm hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me toward him. He kissed me suddenly, but instead of pulling away, I surrendered to the impulse and moved closer. He held me tightly, turned, and sat on the sofa, tugging my arm so I would fall onto his lap. He settled me on his legs, slid the fabric of my blouse aside, and began kissing me with an urgency that seemed to have no tomorrow. I knew it was wrong, but a very deep voice inside me begged me to let myself go.
His fingers tangled in my hair, undoing my ponytail and letting my hair fall loose over my back. He took off my shirt. His hands moved down my back, sliding over my waist and stopping at the clasp of my shorts. I felt the click of the metal and his hand sliding the zipper down while my hands searched for their way beneath his clothes. I pulled away for a second to catch my breath; he let out a protesting murmur before catching my lips again. His hands returned to my shorts and slid them down my legs until I was free of them. He stood up with me in his arms and, in one heavy motion, I wrapped my legs around his waist and placed my arms behind his neck. He held me tightly and carried me to his room. He set me down on the bed. He took off his pants and got comfortable.
I climbed back onto his lap, kissing him with renewed desperation while his hands roamed over my hips and waist. Even though he was still wearing his boxer briefs, the firmness of his body made me feel the intensity of his desire, as real and obvious as my own. My head was spinning between the thrill of the moment and the voice of reason warning me that we were crossing a line with no return. His hands found the edge of my underwear and the clasp of my bra. At that exact moment, I stopped dead. I pulled away from his mouth, and a rough groan escaped his lips.
—Celeste... —he said my name with a broken, hot, breathless voice.
But that small pause was enough for the echo of my conscience to scream that I couldn’t go on. I got up from the bed. I almost ran into the living room, pulled up my shorts, and fastened the zipper with trembling fingers while putting my shirt back on. With the phone in my hand lighting the way, I saw him coming toward me already dressed. He asked for the phone and this time he got the key; he handed the device back to me and, at that very moment, the lights came back on. We left, got into the car, and he drove me home. On the way, everything was silent. “What else could be expected?” I thought to myself. After half an hour, we arrived at my house, I got out of the car, and went inside carefully so as not to wake anyone. I went up to my room, locked the door with a final click, got under the warm water of the shower to wash away the traces of the night, and then let myself fall onto the bed.