Here the Whole Time - Vitor Martins Page 0,32

face brighten as he starts talking about his friend. At that moment, I want to hear everything he has to say.

“We’ve been going to the same school since fifth grade, but she’s a year older, so we’ve never been in the same class. She once defended me from some older guys who were giving me crap between periods, and from then on, we started hanging out.”

I catch myself wondering if Caio is bullied in school, too. As well as the reasons for why people would do that. And how he’s handled it. I want to ask him about all that, but I don’t want to interrupt the story he’s telling, now more excitedly than before:

“When I was in eighth grade and Becky was in ninth, she told me to meet up with her after class somewhere far from school, because she had something serious to tell me. At the time, I was scared, y’know? I was afraid she was gonna tell me she was in love with me and ask for a kiss. Back then, I was already sure I was gay, and at the same time, I didn’t want to hurt her. After school, we went to the park downtown together and sat on a secluded bench to talk. She was all shy, didn’t know how to start the subject, and I started feeling anxious.”

Caio is an excellent storyteller, because at this point, I’m also feeling anxious.

“Suddenly, I pulled my notebook from my backpack and then told her to write down what she wanted to say, because that way might be easier. She grabbed the notebook from my hand, pulled out a pen from her backpack, and started writing. She crossed out three things until she was satisfied with what she’d written. Then she ripped out the tiny piece of paper, folded it in half, handed it my way, and turned her back to me. I opened the note, and it said I like girls. And I remember that in that moment I had to hold back a shout. Then I grabbed the pen and wrote I like boys right underneath it and handed it back to her from over her shoulder. She read it, let out a relieved sigh, turned back to me, and said she’d always known. Becky was the first person I told I was gay, and ever since then we’ve been best friends. It was easier when we got to see each other every day, but, you know, she’s older. She graduated last year, went to college, started dating, and barely has time for me anymore.”

Caio tells the whole story very excitedly, but I sense his voice is a bit sad when he finishes it. For a second, I’m a little angry at Becky, for being the kind of person who forgets about her friends when she starts dating. I’d never be that way! Probably because I’ll never start dating. Or have friends, for that matter.

But deep inside, I feel jealous of Caio and Becky’s story. I wish I had a friendship like this one. I wish the first person to know I was gay had been my best friend and not my mom.

“Now I’m even more excited to meet her,” I lie.

My hands break out in a cold sweat when I meet new people. My stomach churns, and now I regret saying that I was on board for this. Too late, I guess.

We’re both waiting at the meeting spot (a fountain by the mall entrance that, if you look at it from a certain angle, looks like a huge penis), and I look all around me just so I won’t have to face Caio. I try so hard to pay attention to literally anything else that I barely realize he starts talking to me.

“You’re going to love Becky. She’s awesome. And gorgeous,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

But not very punctual, I think about fifteen minutes later when we’re still waiting in front of the fountain. Suddenly, Caio smiles from ear to ear. And I notice it because at this point I’ve given up on trying not to look at him.

“Here she comes!”

I look over my shoulder and see Becky approaching. My jaw literally drops, because she’s not like anyone I imagined. I try to close my mouth quickly before anyone notices, and to mentally organize everything I’m seeing.

Well, I won’t keep you in suspense. Rebeca is fat.

In the little time it takes for her to reach us, I start thinking about a