CHAPTER 4

I woke up something past nine on a Saturday morning thinking I was in a toaster. Two hours before I had got up highly irritated; my covers in a game of Twister with my legs, sheets damp with my sweat, and eyes heavy with sleep, to open the damn windows but in a thirty-something degree weather, that did absolutely nothing to get some fresh air into the room.

And if anyone knew anything about me is that I was not keen on opening windows to prevent having unwanted intruders i.e. wasps and things of that nature disturb my peace because then it'd be another hoopla of me chasing the damn thing around or pulling weird faces and screaming if it got close to me and made that God-forsaken buzzing noise, I'd not be able to rest until I beat the life out of it with my slippers. Another reason why I didn't like opening my windows was because I had a fear of a bird flying in and biting my face off.

Strong imagery there, I know.

Anyways, I was tired. And this is why I was tired – Dominica had made me go clubbing with her to take my mind off the oral Spanish exam which I knew I didn't pass and I had only entered the house at four am and didn't get to sleep until an hour later.

The kids were returning home from their grandparents' house towards evening time, but before that I'd promised Gabino I was going to meet up with him. Even though I didn't drink, my chopped up sleep did not help matters and just the thought of the full day I had ahead brought on a headache.

Reluctantly, I sluggishly got myself out the bed and proceeded to go to the bathroom. I was so tempted to text Gabino and tell him I was not going to be able to make it but decided against it because...I don't know, I figured time with him wouldn't be so taxing.

I stripped off my clothes and entered the shower - my favourite part of the house. It had body jets, pretty much meaning I had a massage everyday. For someone who didn't really care about the latest technology or was so much into expensive things, I couldn't deny that it was a wise investment by the Almas'. Because of it, I struggled everyday to want to get out of the shower.

As the water pressed into my pores, I couldn't help but think how badly I failed my Spanish exam. Dominica, being the friend that she is told me that I was just over thinking things and that's why she had made us go out in the first place, but I knew deep in my heart I had failed.

I cringed just thinking about how I'd stuttered and mixed up the grammar and tenses as I fumbled my way talking about my experience living in Madrid so far. Even when I rolled my 'R''s it sounded rusty and just plain unnatural. I just did not understand why I was making so many mistakes when I'd practised so many times.

My saving grace was that I'd passed my reading and listening, writing I was shaky about that, a lot of the times I forgot where to place all the accents and so I guessed.

Inhala, exhala.

I let my nerves get the best of me even my teacher that was assessing me picked up on it, she was nice about it and told me to take my time.

Language was just something I was not great at – I mean for the last nineteen years I only needed to know one language. My father's family - the one I hardly knew of were Jamaican, and my mother no clue, so the only other language I could possible know would be patois, but then again patois was basically an isotope of the English language and not that hard to understand but damn hard to speak.

Dominica was like a friggin' monster or master when it came to language, I'll go with monster. As well as Portuguese, she spoke her native Creole dialect for cursing purposes, obviously Spanish, and she was in the same language school with me because she was in advanced English classes and learning French at the same time.

It was a wonder how she didn't get all jumbled up in her head with the many languages that she spoke.

So I would have loved if I could just stay in bed and sulked until the kids came home. If I was in the States I could guarantee that's what would have happened but here's me...going out, making plans, spending time with a friend. It was almost hilarious how everything had changed.

Despite it all, I missed my baby. Yes, I was cheesing, I was cheesing hard, but I just wanted him to hold me and kiss my neck and whisper into my ears that everything was going to be okay. And because I was missing him so much I made up my mind that I would squash all the beef between us by the end of the day. It would be only a week until he'd be coming to Madrid and I just wanted us to make the most of our time together without any further arguments.

But today as with most other days, I couldn't really afford time to myself so within fifteen minutes I was back out the shower again.

Before leaving the house, I had made sure to take the maximum dose of ibupofren because I was taking the metro. I knew that the kids' parents wouldn't mind if I took their car out for my own leisure, but I still thought it to be unprofessional.

And plus, the Madrid traffic was crazy mad in the centre so that was another reason for me to take the Metro. Hence why I needed the painkillers, to deal with with sciatics theatrics.

I was wearing a floral maxi-dress, gold sandals and a pair of black shades. As I made the ten minute walk to the station a smile curled on my lips remembering a few months back wearing the same dress when Angelo had made me go Costco with him to feed his supply of energy drinks and a bunch of other things he wanted to buy for the homeless shelter.

It was a bad decision for me to go because I'd hardly eaten the whole day and I'd gone straight from work to be with him, and because I was so hungry I ended up thinking with my belly and bought two large boxes containing twenty- four croissants in each – one for the family and one for me. In two days I finished them, in my defence though one or two or five croissants is hardly ever filling.

Anyway, after Angelo finished what he needed, we'd of course, like normal human beings, if such existed, sat down in the restaurant and indulged in the Costco pizza.

I was in my own little world salivating and feasting on my pepperoni pizza when Angelo randomly said he wanted to kiss me.

Me being caught unawares by his demand had an 'huh' look on my face. But then Angelo snorted and said he loved me but he'll postpone the kiss and pointed out that my front teeth was smeared red with tomato paste and bits of pepperoni on my gums. The word 'mortified' was not enough to describe how I felt at that time, but now that I thought about it, my shoulders shook in laughter as I entered the station and I was the subject of strange looks thinking I had lost it.

Gabino had texted me that he'd be waiting in the square for me and when I did get out of the station, him and his handsome self were already there, looking all cool and unbothered, hands stuffed in his cargo shorts, wearing a plain tshirt, with the same beaded cross on his chest and black aviators – a cool hippie. Unfortunately the closer I got to him, the obnoxious odour of uncooked meat gone bad pounced off of him in waves and latitudes. A lot had happened in the week since I last saw him and I had completely forgotten about it and I'd come unguarded to the smell.

“How are you?” he asked as he reached out to hug me.

Putting on a smile on my face, I put my arms around him, hugging him back, but not before sucking in a breath. “A little tired but I'm okay.”

“Why you tired?”

By this time he had let go of me and we were walking along the myriad of shops off the square. The heat was as fierce as usual, some people were sitting around the fountain, some sun-bathing, sun-burnt, walking lazily, walking hurriedly but me and Gabino we were just going at our own pace.

“I went clubbing yesterday and I came back this morning.”

“What time?”

“Four.”

An apologetic look crossed his features at hearing what I said. “You tell me you want to stay home. We go out another time.”

“No it's fine,” I responded even though I was dead weight.

“You want something to eat?”

“Si, si,” I replied without thinking, anything that would get me off my feet was a good idea at that moment in time.

We entered into a fast food joint that was fairly busy and got burgers and chips.

“I pay,” said Gabino bringing out his tattered looking leather wallet.

Another man who needed to show his chivalrous side. Was this a Spanish thing? Or just a male thing? I didn't know.“Please don't.”

“No worry,” he replied passing the cashier a five euro note.

“Es €8.50.”

By this time Gabino, was emptying his wallet dropping the copper coins on the counter top looking a little frustrated. The cashier was getting a little impatient because there was a growing queue behind us.

“It's okay I'll pay the rest.”

“No, I said I'll pay for it!” I jumped in shock, not expecting Gabino raising his voice at me before stalking off.

Apologising to the cashier, I handed her the remaining change and took our food in a tray put inside a brown paper bag.

I spotted Gabino sitting in one of them square tables with chairs on opposite sides. I sat in the empty seat. He was embarrassed I understood that and he'd only acted from that emotion. Men and their ego. Usually I wouldn't have taken a guy shouting in my face like that but with Gabino...there was something about it I couldn't put my finger on.

He did the sign of the cross before he started eating, leading by example I said a quiet grace. Opening my eyes I was ready to dive into my burger but Gabino's BO was just too much to bear. It actually made me sick to my stomach that I just couldn't eat.

The sad thing about all of this was that he just seemed so unaware of his smell. It was like a girl on her period walking around without a clue in the world that she had huge bloodstain at the back of her white jeans – that was Gabino only in smell.

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't understand.”

“I sorry, okay. I smell!” he shouted again out loud which made the patrons of the fast food joint turn towards our table.

The loud scratchy sound of the Gabino's chair being pulled back was heard. I was too shocked for words to say anything. He looked visibly hurt and annoyed. I could see people looking weirded out whispering amongst each other.

It wasn't until I saw people wrinkling their noses as he walked past them that I too abandoned my table and went chasing for him outside.

“Gabino, wait!” I shouted out as he nearly slammed the shop doors in my face.

Quickly rushing out of the shop, by the time I caught up with him, best believe that all oxygen had vacated my lungs.

“Gabino, please wait.”

The hombre walked so damn fast, Grabbing onto one of his arms, I was able to make him stop moving like he was a man on a damn mission.

“Que pasa?” he spat at me.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, he was sweating all over. One would thing he'd just finished an intense work out at the gym.

I couldn't see his eyes because they were shielded by his aviators. For a moment I stood quiet brooding inside me how to approach the 'situation' without rattling him again.

He'd gone zero to a hundred in 2.5 seconds, without any amber alerts.

“Que pasa Gabino?”

“Que pasa Gabino, que pasa Gabino,” he started mimicking me, “you, que pasa?”

People were starting to take notice of Gabino making a scene but they stared for a second or so in idle interest, before carrying on with their business.

“I think you mi amigo.”

Shocked by his statement, I emphasised, “But I am your amigo.”

“No, if you my amigo, you tell me that I smell but you didn't.”

I didn't know what to say to this, so again I stayed quiet for a bit. I didn't know if it was wise for me to admit to him that because we'd just recently met I wasn't sure how he was going to receive me being honest to him about him.

“I'm sorry,” was all I could say.

He gave me the dirtiest of looks even though his eyes were covered, and then just yanked his arm out of my grasp, I didn't know I had had a hold on him for that long. And then he started walking away.

What was happening?

Again I walked up to him but with every step I took it felt like he was taking ten, so really I was just trying to catch up to him.

I was so clueless on what to do. I had wounded his pride that much I could tell and I hadn't meant to do that, it was the total opposite of what I was trying to do. I had to recalculate.

I didn't say anything to him but I was deep in thought – there was definitely something going on with Gabino.

I had thought I was making a good show of not making obvious about his smell but of course I hadn't. It had totally backfired.

And speaking of backfiring – my ass was officially on fire. It didn't help that Gabino was walking at the Flash speed.

He still hadn't calmed down. His shoulders were hunched, he reminded me of The Hulk, as he walked through the crowded streets of Puerta del Sol. I didn't know if I should leave him alone to allow him to calm down or I should continue stalking him round the square.

In the end, my ass won. I needed to sit down. And he clearly needed to be alone if he couldn't even face looking at me.

For half an hour I sat around the fountain – body broken in all types of ways, thinking how I never would have predicted that time with Gabino would be so taxing.

I still needed to get home to make food for the kids, I still needed to speak to Angelo and I really would just have liked some cheetos I could dip into mango flavoured ice cream.

There was a lot riding on me getting an ice cream, but instead I sat. I sat and sat, waiting for my fairy godmother to wave her wand and tell me what was going on in that boy's head and while she was it, make him get me some gelato.

I could have been in bed, I didn't have to deal with this.

The urge to message Angelo was strong but I knew that he'd be sleeping in. Sleeping in for Angelo meant being able to staying in bed until eight am until he had to get up for his teaching session at the shelter.

My eyes tried to scout out any sign of Gabino, but I came up short.

Ten minutes and half-drowsy, there was a second moment of shade and when I turned to my side , I saw Gabino bending down to sit- but this time it looked like he was being careful not to sit too close to me.

To be honest, he didn't smell actually it was the total opposite, he smelt fantastic – for the most part. A masculine, citrusy smell, unfortunately it didn't cover up all of his natural scent.

I didn't say anything, I think I had a little right to be pissed as well - he could have at least said he needed to be alone. But then again I thought I had no right to be pissed off, because I was the one that instigated the whole thing.

“I go to shop and put perfume,” I heard him say breaking the ice.

Lack of sleep, chasing a guy, sitting in the damn near nuclear sun, I had no words of response.

A truck just needed to appear and take me to my bed.

“Luciana, I sorry.”

I turned around not expecting the apology. And the tone which he apologised in – there was a certain vulnerability that I wouldn't have expected from a guy of his physique, you know all manly and sporty and gorgeous.

Then he asked if he could go on the internet on my phone. I let him.

As he did whatever he needed with my phone, I allowed myself to close my eyes and and the smell of fresh spring water flirted with my senses and made me feel calm. I was deaf to the sound around me. Only the gurgling of water behind me and the heat of the sun was all my senses could bear.

In that moment when I closed my eyes, I really could have been anywhere, and if there was anywhere I really could have been it would been wrapped up in...my bed.

Sleeping with Angelo - I'd only ever slept with Angelo once and once was more than enough to realise that he and I could not share a bed for as long as we wanted to remain all chaste and pure.

Six out of ten times during the eight hours in bed, I'd had all the feels in the lower region of my body, but when the heat got too much I turned straight back off. Let's just say...Angelo was very passionate.

He ended up giving up his bed for me and went to sleep in his brother's room, I'd said I should be the one to sleep in his brother's room but he insisted no. The next morning when I was on break at work he'd texted: Now I can wake up to the smell of you. That had put a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

If my parents ever found out that I'd slept the night at Angelo's house, yeah, they wouldn't be the happiest bunnies. Even though they liked Angelo they did not permit sleepovers.

The only reason I had even been able to stay at his house that night was because my mum and dad had gone to work, and my brother had gone on some school trip for three days or something. It was perfect timing.

My semi-siesta into bliss was ruined by a gentle tap on my shoulder telling me to wake up. When I did, my eyes were heavy with sleep and exhaustion, and I thought I could hear myself mumble some nonsense as I familiarised myself again to my surroundings.

It was a good thing I was black or from the duration of time I had been in the sun I would have vaporised into a pile of soot.

Gabino tpassed my phone back to me and told me to look what was on it. The page on the screen was on a translation site. I briefly looked at the Spanish translation, and tried to work out what it said I quickly gave up and glanced below for the English translation:

I have Aspergers' syndrome.

In a split second I felt like – no, I was the worst human in the world. Like if there was a Guiness Record for the worst human I'd be right there on the page like BAM!

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Gabino.”

Strangely a smile lifted in the corners of his mouth.

“It's okay. You not know.”

Everything in my head started making sense, the little flickers of strange mannerisms I had witnessed back at Pepito's football match only solidified my suspicions. But in the glaring sun, forget sweat patch, I was a sweat puddle and most likely had some BO going on and I didn't care.

I hugged him tight.