Here the Whole Time - Vitor Martins Page 0,14

that Gandalf is dead.”

I hold back a laugh, because if he hasn’t watched the movies, he has no idea what’s about to happen.

“When I read the books, I’d already seen all three movies, so there were no surprises for me. And yet, I cried when Gandalf died because he’s the best part of The Lord of the Rings,” I say, and Caio laughs again.

I’m suddenly invaded by a good feeling—the kind you feel when you get the right answer twice on a BuzzFeed quiz.

“So you’re the kind of person who likes the movie better than the book?” Caio asks with mock judgment in his voice.

“No, no!” I say right away. But then I stop to think and start to develop my arguments. “Though, to be honest, I think we’re conditioned to say that the book is always better. But in reality … I don’t know.”

That’s me, Mr. Articulate.

I reorganize my thoughts and continue, “I really like books. And I really like movies. Some good books are made into horrible movies, and great movies came from boring books. And the opposite is also true. I don’t know. I like both. That’s the worst answer, but it’s what I have for you today.”

Faced with the crappy case I’ve made, Caio lets out a final laugh, followed by a long yawn. It seems we’re done talking for the night.

“Felipe, I think I’m going to sleep.”

“Me too,” I lie, because there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to turn around and fall sleep, knowing he’s right here, lying next to me.

“Good night,” we both say at almost the same time.

I look up at the ceiling and stare into the darkness while I wait for sleep to come. And that’s when I notice something that I’ve never paid attention to before: Right in the corner of the bedroom, there’s still one remaining glow-in-the-dark star sticker. I must not have noticed it when I removed all the others. But I have no doubt. It’s almost not glowing anymore, but it’s still there. One star on my bedroom ceiling. I know this is going to sound stupid, but I simply close my eyes and make a wish.

And three seconds later, I hear Caio calling my name.

“Felipe, can I ask you for something?”

I want to say, “A kiss? To hold hands? To profess my eternal love?!” But all that comes out of my mouth is “Yes?”

“What’s the Wi-Fi password?”

I take a deep breath (a little frustrated, I have to admit) and answer, “merylstreep123, all lowercase.”

I can see Caio smiling because the phone screen lights up his face when he enters the password. His smile is as intense as a thousand star stickers glowing in the dark and carries the satisfaction of someone who’s just spent three whole days without knowing how to get onto the Wi-Fi.

“Okay, now good night,” he says.

“See you tomorrow,” I respond.

And the day after that. And the next, and the next.

I WAKE UP WITH SUNLIGHT coming in through my window, and the first thing I hear is Caio snoring. It’s not a real snore; it’s more like a purr. He doesn’t sleep with his mouth open. His mouth is closed in a half smile, and it even seems like he knows he’s being watched. I, on the other hand, have awful bedhead, my cheek is sticky with drool, and my shirt is rolled up to my midriff. I cover myself quickly, because I don’t want him to see me like this.

“Good morning,” Caio says when he wakes, his voice a little raspy.

I break into a cold sweat because, once again, I don’t know how to act around him. Last night I did so well, but today is different. The room isn’t dark anymore.

It doesn’t matter that Caio isn’t even looking at me; I still have this feeling that I’m being watched the whole time. I’m already used to all the looks that I get, but not to his look. I think I’ll never get used to it. Because Caio’s stare is more like a laser beam striking my body smack-dab in the middle, burning me alive as my organs slide out of my body. But in a good way.

“It’s so nice to sleep on a real bed again!” Caio continues, since I didn’t reply to his good morning.

“That’s great” is all I can say.

Caio gives up on trying to sustain a conversation and starts exchanging texts on his phone with someone more interesting than me. Basically anybody.

We don’t have time to stew in