The next morning, the time that I have to go to school like usual, but something has changed. I see myself in the mirror, and what I feel, how I feel, and some burdens I had carried before are still there but lighter. Everything is so lighter and clearer now. My eyes are clear like the thunder rain rainstorms in my sight, clearing the stain of the raindrops that have covered my eyeballs and my brain for years. It cleans my confusion and everything.
Some part that fog in my body, some part that I was always stuck inside it. I can see the shape, touch the roughness of the skin, and feel the softness—the coldness that I can walk with the naked body, and it turns to warmth, wrapping around the skin, sewing to be the coat. And if I attentively look at it, there are arms inside, exposing the big hands holding me, and when I turn around and look up, it's him.
Zygmunt.
I accidentally smile while walking through the hall, and suddenly, my left hand is grabbed. I am dragged to the school board. Irin looks at me and shifts to the poster announcement. I follow her eyes and look at the poster, which has the prettiest design compared to others. There are a lot of flowers and baskets.
Aha—of course, the basket date.
Every year, the school has a little traditional festival for senior students to present an intimate farewell, creating the opportunity for someone who desires to take the chance to get to know the person by bidding on the senior's basket who bid the highest price get to have a wonderful date with the owner of the basket who surely he or she doesn't make by themselves. Most of all, this tiny gesture of the event gathers a large amount of money and is donated to one of the charities each time. Last year, the boys bid, and this year, it's time for the girls who bid the boys' baskets.
"Oh my god, did you see this?" Irin's tone makes it obvious that she's shocked by something. "The event is public." She looks at me.
"That means—"
"People can bid for the baskets, not just schoolgirlies." She replies to me, "That must be chaotic!"
"Why is that? The principal probably wants other people to have the interaction with his school."
"Or just want more money," Irin says in her mind.
"More money for the charity." I say,
"All of it? Hmpt." She raises her eyebrows to me like she knows what we think the same thing. "Whatever, I fear there will be more rivals—James has a lot more fans than I think," Irin says, holding my arm and leaning on me. "They will bid for his basket, and I have to bid even higher so I can have this date."
"You have a lot of dates with him. Why does this one matter." I ask,
"Zia! It's definitely this one. It's fucking special for me—for us—for all of us. It's the last big moment to have a one-on-one date with someone we—admire." Her fuse rises, and she explains to me with her eyebrows furrowing. "Well, at least people under 16 are not allowed to bid—ah, and above 30." She reads the condition carefully, her lips start to curl, and she exhales loudly.
"That's quite a range, though," I tease her.
"Fuck!" She shouts and drags me away from the school board. I chuckle at her behavior.
"Don't you worry?" She asks and looks at me. "Tytas, he is the one who has trillion–-fan girls out there, not just teenagers in love but also the single aunties." She says,
"No," I answer her too quickly.
Irin glares at me and pauses us, "What happened?" She asks.
"What?"
"Don't fuck with me, Letizia Serafinne." She scolds me in the gentlest way possible. "You promised." She glares at me. "What happened between you and him?"
I look at her, and I slowly smile because last night, I spent the night with him together in his bed, not just my body this time. I know that Irin asks me about another man.
"And why you smile like that—it something—good?"
"Irin…I think…I'm in love."
"Huh—" She's confused, then her eyes wide open, "WHAT!!!?"
"Shusssh—come here," I shush her and drag her out, passing the girl's restroom, lab's room, and the room that we are supposed to attend. We pass the indoor gym and walk through the school's backyard.
We sit together on the stone bench in the middle of the wildflowers and bushes. We hold our coats so tight because of the cold wind. There aren't many students lying on the clean, fresh grass. In front of us is the polo arena and the horse stable beside it.
"You scared me, but I love it," Irin says and looks at me patiently. She sighs and keeps staring at me. "You are in love with Tytas?" she asks and pauses. "I get that. After all, he has been treating you, you probably fall for him sooner or later."
"No," I say and look at the horses running, "Yes, I fall for him, but no, I'm not in love with him," I say,
Irin's mouth opens wide and hangs, waiting for something to come out, "Then who is it?" She asks as I watch the coppered hair shining through the wintertime. "Don't fucking tell me it's him—NO!" Irin shouts and gets up aggressively, then I turn to look at her. "NO! You're not allowed, Zia! Not fucking VIK!"
"Vik?" I repeat.
"Are you crazy!? Not in a million years, NO!" She's upset and distraught.
I sigh. "It's not him," I say,
"I say no! I don't care if you are going to fall madly in love with that fucker jerk! You're totally crazy to have the idea of—" She's stomping her shoes around angrily in front of me.
I roll my eyes, "It's Zygmunt!" I shout over her words.
Finally, she stops, slowly turns her head with her crazy eyes on me, and as she's about to approach me, she trips her left leg, tries to walk to me normally, and then sits next to me—calmly this time.
I exhale softly and look at her, "I'm in love…and falling madly and deeply with him, Irin." I say gently and seriously.
She turns to me with her jaws hanging again but with no sound or even her breath. "H–How?" She stutters.
"I've always been…thinking about him…when I close my eyes, I see him…when I open them, I see him…I've longed for him for so long, but I couldn't surrender to those feelings…I yearn for him so much that I…can't force myself to fall in love with someone else." I say with an open heart, but my tear keeps on rising in my eyes.
Her face is confused with wonder. She has a lot of questions in her mind. "When did you—"
"Before he left," I say,
"Fuck…" She curses lightly, "Two years, Zia…it's been fucking two years, and you kept that for so long!!?" and she starts to shout.
While I'm staring at her with my softest heart, she starts to soften her voice and her eyes, and then she smiles at me. "When and what on earth happened to you guys back then?"
"It's—complicated." I avoid it, but I hope she understands my intention.
She sighs and shakes her head, "For bloody hell to the horn, I can't believe it. Whatever you guys' story was—It probably has stained your heart, right?"
I nod,
"I won't ask about the detail if you don't want to tell me, Zia—but what about him?" She looks at me with concern. "Does he have—feelings toward you?"
I stare at her eyes and try not to smile,
"Huh, of course, he has…that's why at the dinner, you guys were crazily intense!" Irin starts to smile so wide. "I knew it…when you were kids, he couldn't be away from you. He didn't talk much, but I knew that guy—staring at you like he wanted to take you away from me." She pauses and gazes at me, "he was crazy about you since then,"
I bite my lips and shift my sight to the mountain where the arena is down the hills.
"So what are you going to do with Tytas?" Irin asks,
"I'm going to tell him—the truth," I say,
She sighs so hard, "He's going to be—" she sighs again, "I don't think he's not going to accept that." I look at her. "He's still crazy about you, Zia. And someone comes in between—I can't even imagine."
"He will be ok. He's not a boy anymore." I say,
"But it's like he has a dream and is finally living it, but then, someone rips that apart. A boy or a mature man will be heartbroken." She explains.
"I know…" I say lightly,
She holds my hands, "But I hope he can handle it like a mature one…It's Oskar, after all." she says.
I hope so, too.