So, on the last day, we had to pretend that there was nothing going on between us. It should have been somewhat easy to pretend; after all, I had been pretending one way or another for the last month. But it wasn’t. My skin felt bereft at the absence of his; my heart ached painfully when he was so close but so far. All we had were knowing looks across rooms and sly smiles to connect us.
It wasn’t really fair, the way things worked out. I was so wrapped up with the matters of my body and my heart for Mateo that I was missing out on the sadness around me. Maybe that was a good thing in the end, but everywhere I looked, I saw the quiet sorrow in everyone’s eyes, Spaniard and Anglo, at the impending farewell. We had all bonded so well and so hard that I knew everyone was hurting inside, feeling as if their lives weren’t going to be the same the next evening.
Each one-on-one I had was bittersweet. I had Beatriz, who was unusually emotional and kept wiping a tear away with her dainty fingers; Angel who wouldn’t stop talking about all the things he would miss; and Antonio, who kept on making me laugh with his knock-knock jokes, which in turn made me realize how much I was going to miss them.
At lunchtime, I sat with Mateo, Polly, and Eduardo. Halfway through the meal, Jerry stood up in the middle of the dining hall and sang us a song a cappella. It was shocking, actually, how well a dweeby goof like Jerry could sing, and made some of the tears around the room fall again. The song was in Spanish too, and Mateo told me it was a famous farewell song. I gathered that already from the hushed tones and the sweet, crystal sound.
It was hard not to continuously touch Mateo. I had to keep reminding myself where I was. Because our table was at the back of the room and we had our backs to the wall, we were able to hold hands under the table from time to time. It steadied me, to feel his skin, the pulse in his veins. It both reminded me that he was real and he was here now and that he’d soon be gone.
After lunch, Jerry cancelled the last free time and handed out pens and small pads of paper with the program logo on it. He told us we had a half an hour to go around the room and enter phone numbers into our phones, if we had them, or write down emails. Then afterward we would all go out on the lawn for a group picture.
With the pen in my hand I immediately looked up at Mateo. I tried to swallow. “I guess we should exchange information.”
He nodded, eyes glittering at me. “Of course.”
He wrote down his email and tapped it with his finger. “This is private.” He then wrote down his phone number. “iMessage will work overseas. You can text me anytime you want.”
That struck me like a hammer to the chest. Texting. We were going from seeing each other every day and fucking to seeing each other never and texting.
“It is going to be all right, Vera,” he said, his voice lower. “Remember my presentation that impressed you so.”
“You’re saying we can write our own destiny,” I said, feeling too jaded and stubborn in the moment to believe it.
“I am saying,” he said carefully, “that this is not the end of the story. Not the way I am writing it.”
“Hey, I’d love to get your guys’ info,” Eduardo said, walking over and interrupting us, “and Facebook if you have it.”
I took a step back from Mateo, conscious now that we may have been standing too close, and looked at him for his response.
Mateo gave him a tight smile. “I don’t have Facebook, if you can believe it. I’m too old for that.”
“I can believe it,” Eduardo said good-naturedly. Even though Mateo brought the joke on himself, I swear I saw a shadow pass over his eyes, darkening them.
I exchanged information with pretty Polly, who also seemed to be going through emotional turmoil, having to leave Eduardo and all, then went around the room, exchanging emails, Facebooks, and phone numbers. I talked to pretty much everybody.
Even Lauren.
I didn’t approach her and she didn’t approach me, but I ran into her when I was coming out of the women’s washroom. I was going to let it go, to just forget everything and leave this place without having to talk to her. But I couldn’t.
“Hey,” I said to her as she brushed past, ready to say something to put her in her place.
She slowly turned around and gave me a caustic look. But through her glitter-coated glasses, I saw her eyes were completely red and puffy, and the corners were wet with tears.
“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling an uncalled for bout of concern. I couldn’t help myself.
She sniffed and shook her head. Then, as if she remembered who she was talking to, her back straightened, her expression becoming hard. “Are you okay?” she retorted.
“No,” I said honestly.
She gave me a blasé look. “Well. Then you know.” She turned and pushed open the door to the bathroom. I could hear her muttering, “Of course, you could mind your own business,” to herself as she went.
Huh. I guess the Brony ended up having a sexual preference after all, and it was Lauren, the slut-shaming feminist. It seemed as if hearts were breaking all over the place. I thought back to the first piece of advice I had been given by Gabby when she dropped me off at the bus. “Don’t fall in love,” she had said. She knew exactly what happened in Las Palabras, every single program. It kind of made me wonder why this wasn’t a reality TV show.
Soon, when people’s emotions were more in check, we all gathered together on the lawn for the group picture. It was pure chaos. Eduardo, Angel, Sammy, and Froggy Carlos all lay down at the front like they were posing as centerfolds in a 70’s Penthouse, while the rest of us were all squished together, laughing, touching, hugging.
I had Claudia on one side of me and Mateo on the other. Mateo had his arm around me as if we were a couple. I felt my cheeks flame red for that picture and I was sure my smile was ridiculously huge. It wasn’t until the camera stopped clicking that I realized that Mateo also had his arm around Ed on the other side, to make things less suspicious, I guess.
It didn’t matter. We’d all been captured in a moment for the rest of time. That was the picture that I wanted on my wall, so I could stare at it whenever I felt lonely. I could look at it and remember that for one month out of my life, I had a family, I had friends, and I had love at my side. The exalted look on my face would say it all. Apparently it would be emailed to us all in a few days, and I was already anticipating the joy and pain it would bring.
The final business sessions were all cancelled and Jerry told us all we had free time to do whatever we wanted, as long as we were back for dinner at six. It was earlier tonight because there were a few special performances that some of the Spaniards wanted to do to thank the Anglos for all their hard work in teaching.
I felt it should have been the other way around—I wanted to do something for the Spaniards for teaching me about love and life.
But, I could always start with Mateo. As soon as Jerry announced the free time, we were gravitating towards each other, eager to get away for a few hours and just be together whatever way we could. We walked off up toward his cottage since I saw Sara and Nerea go back to my apartment. We checked his apartment, but Marty/Mark was there with a few other people, cracking open a few beers. They invited us to stay, but it just didn’t feel right.
So, we ended up going back down the road and to the dining hall. Mateo grabbed a few cushions off the chairs and waved them at me. “For old time’s sake,” he said. He took them over to the tree and threw them on the ground.