My Sister's Boyfriend

-Arran. The sea seems kind of... big.

- That was a great definition. - he bit his lip between his teeth and probably laughed too. I didn't let myself be put off by his sexy face:

- Thanks. Ah... He's scary too.

- He's only scary from afar, up close he's the sweetest thing in the world. - I looked at him in disbelief. How could he find the sea that sank so many ships so many years ago sweet? The same sea that swallowed entire men in its depths, that destroyed entire ships of Spanish, Portuguese and English travelers? I was afraid of the sea because of the stories. For coexistence. For all its splendor. And for all the intimacy we had. I grew up with the salty smell of the sea in my nose. It was and always had been my life, seeing him from afar, his wind folding the pages of a book for me since I was 9 years old. And it doesn't matter if it was here in Rio or on the other side of the world. The sea would never be sweet, it would always have the salty sweetness of blood, sadness, hope and my childhood. I reflected for a few seconds and ended up smiling at his statement, it wasn't his fault if I was doomed to fear of the sea and these exaggerated and dramatic thoughts, he was lucky to be able to face it. I even risked a little joke:

- Not sweet, the sea is salty. - His face stretched into a half smile.

-I could teach you.

- Forget jow, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself with a girl with a float on her arm in the middle of the sweet sea...

- You do not know me. You don't know what I'm capable of...

- Serious? You're right. You're a stranger, I shouldn't talk to you. - I looked scared, placing my hand on my heart. - You could be a psychopath!

- That's not what I meant. Hey! Where are you going? - I got up from the chair, picking up my extra bags, full of rubbish, and walked unsteadily to a dumpster near where I was sitting. I had given the sea boy a chance to entertain me, it had been fun, of course. But I don't know... He left me confused and I felt this sudden desire to leave him to his confused thoughts. I could see some kids playing volleyball in the corner. Their gazes converged in my direction. One of them, more courageous, gave me a loud, loud and excited 'hey', giving me a gigantic smile. I ignored him and his friends giggled. I went back to my chair... Where Igor was still sitting, watching my movements. I folded my chair, which thank heavens folded easily and was very small, then delicately, with all the intimacy in the world, I pushed Igor from the other chair. He fell to the sand and looked at me indignantly. I smiled wryly, folding the other chair and placing the two chairs in the larger bag. I grabbed my beach bag and bag and started walking, leaving a boy and a board behind.

- Hey, wait. I didn't know you would take that stranger thing seriously. - he reached me in long strides. The board hanging from his arm, I asked if it wouldn't be heavy for him, but seeing his arms... I saw that maybe it would be light. - Are you a bit bipolar? Actually... I am.

- Bipolarity is something super sexy, believe me. - I turned to him, half laughing.

- Okay, I'll stay with you. - I felt myself blushing because of my poker face. But it was fun to test it. I saw that when I said that he took a couple of steps forward, getting closer. And you're going to leave?

- It's an exchange? One kiss from you and I have to leave? - His finger lifted, removing a strand of hair from my neck. I just stood still. Not knowing what to do. All I could think was that he was close... Too close. I waited for him to kiss me. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel someone's lips on mine. He surprised me, once again. - If so, I refuse. I won't be able to fulfill this deal.

- So you always keep promises?

-Only when people are worth it.

- Nobody is worth it. - I removed his hand from the base of my face and smiled disappointedly.

- Do you think that?

- I know that.

- For a new girl, you're a bit bitter. - That's what they say. I wanted to say, but I kept quiet. Preferring another answer.

- You don't even know my age. - I said, taking a few steps back. On the defensive. It seemed like he could read me...

- He's 15 years old, his name is Malu and he likes Mc Lanche Feliz. I know where you sleep!

-How? I crossed my arms defiantly.

- Well, you have a single room in the hotel, while your father and a woman stay about 4 floors above. Your bed must be a bit similar to mine, soft mattress, blue pillowcase...

- H-how do you know that?

-Your hotel room is next to mine. You are number 11 and I am number 12.

- How do you know that... too? - I widened my eyes, even more scared.

- I saw you making reservations with your father. -Oh! That made more sense.

- So, unfortunately for you, you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon. See you later, Maria de Lourdes. - So he simply left me there and walked towards the sea. I stood there, completely open-mouthed as he walked away. Completely confused and angry that he said my name out loud. A little scared, but surprised. If it was in a good or bad way... I couldn't decide. He looked back once and I could see his crooked smile. I shook my head, walking to my hotel. What a strange face! Maybe he really is a psychopath. Or not... Maybe he was just a bit of an idiot for talking to me and wanting to repeat the dose.

Walking through the hotel lobby, I ended up meeting my father's fiancee, Cristina. She was physically attractive, with her short red hair and slightly plump body. She was about 10 years younger than my father and had studied Gastronomy at college, as she believed that this would help her find a good husband and achieve the only thing she really wanted to be, a housewife. Not that that was bad, but the fact that she looked for a married guy to build her own family by destroying another one made me despise her. She had the air of a nice person, but we hated each other. Perhaps she thought that her future husband having children and an old marriage was ruining her dream of a happy family. And I thought she was stealing what little I had left from my father.

- Where were you? - she said arrogantly.

- On the beach. Duh. - I lifted my chairs and my bag and she rolled her eyes.

-Your father is looking for you.