Here the Whole Time - Vitor Martins Page 0,63
the forest. And he’ll probably never know that the green liquid had absolutely nothing in it. So, the Wizard is an asshole.
Caio is asleep on his mattress, curled up under a blanket and snoring softly. I wonder how many gallons of courage potion I’d need to hold his hand. To say, “I like you, and I want to kiss you.” To actually kiss him, if he allowed me to.
My head feels like it’s about to explode at any moment, so I do what any sensible person would in my situation: run to my mom.
I leave my room quietly, so as not to wake up Caio, then slowly creep into hers. I even give her door a light knock, but I don’t wait for an answer.
The room is still dark, despite the slightly open window. I step slowly toward her queen bed, which is only half-occupied, treading carefully so as not to trip on any shoes that might be lying on the floor.
“Mom?” I say in a quiet voice, lying by her side and pulling the floral comforter over my body.
“Is everything all right, Felipe?” She’s still half-asleep, but her hand moves straight to my forehead to check my temperature. It must be some mom emergency protocol, I don’t know.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to stay here for a bit.”
“It’s been a while since you stayed here with me. You were still little the last time,” she says, pulling me in for a hug.
When she does that, I feel small again. Not in a bad way. I feel protected. It’s as if I could say anything and still be sure it would be okay. And then, without second-guessing myself, I blurt out, “I think I’m in love.”
“With Caio?” my mom says without hesitation.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Speaking as someone who brought you into this world and who lives in this house, yes. Pretty obvious,” she says, smiling.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Afraid of?” She seems confused.
“If it’s that obvious to you, it must be obvious to him, too, Mom! And if he hasn’t made a move yet, then that’s definitely because—”
“Because he’s shy. Or afraid that his mother will find out. Or maybe he’s intimidated because you’re the handsomest guy in the world,” she interrupts.
“You’re my mom. It’s your job to say I’m the handsomest guy in the world,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Son, look at me,” she says, turning in bed to face me. “You may think I’m saying this because I’m your mother. And you’re partially right, of course. I will always think you are the handsomest boy in the world, because I’m your mother. But beauty is not only here,” she says, running her hand down my face.
I don’t know if it’s the nice, warm bed, or if it’s my mom’s tender touch, but a tear escapes from my eye. A happy one, for a change.
“I’m so proud of who you are. Of the decisions you make, of how you face your challenges, of how you make me laugh even when my day sucks. You are my companion, son. And anyone who can enjoy your company is lucky. And I’m very happy that you trust me enough to tell me about your feelings,” she says, wiping my tear with the tip of her finger.
“Thanks, Mom. But I only came to you because I have no other friends,” I tease.
“Unbelievable! Get out of here.” She laughs and pushes me away.
Then we’re laughing and pushing each other, and it feels so good. I wish I knew how old is too old to lie down in your mom’s bed and talk. I hope there’s no such thing, because I want to be able to do this always.
“So, then, what do I have to do to … you know … get him?” I ask, a little embarrassed that I’m asking my mom for romantic advice.
“Why would I know, Felipe? If I were good at flirting, you wouldn’t be here right now, because this half of the bed would be taken,” my mom answers, raising her eyebrows.
“Mom!” I yell, embarrassed, because it’s so weird to imagine a dude lying here in her bed.
“It’s true, son. I gave up on dating long ago. Doesn’t mean I don’t get around every once in a while. I’m not dead, you know?”
“Mooom! You’re not helping!” I say, louder, because it’s even weirder to imagine that another dude has probably been here.
“Okay, I don’t know how to help. I haven’t had a lot of romances that have worked