“Oh wait! Before that, I have something for you,” Maca blurts out before I can hear what she thought of her time with Mr McDean.

She hands me everything on her lap: journal and pictures, and then grabs her purse and browses for something. I watch her carefully, her expression of sheer concentration. From within she removes a wool hat that seems to be making things difficult for her. It’s a grey beanie and it looks so comfortable and warm. I hold it in my hands, wondering how she looked wearing it. I focus on her hair that without this hat is dancing with the wind, loose strands whipping her face so I reach for those strands and put them behind her ear in an impulsive movement. She paralyses and looks at me with wide eyes, so I retract my hand, blushing before she does. I look away and from the corner of my eye I see her shaking her head then she keeps searching. I put the hat on my lap, next to her journal.

“Found it!” she cheers and I focus on her again who’s grabbed a leather bracelet. I furrow my brow quizzically and she smiles brightly, making my heart skip a beat and the preciousness of that smile.

With a smile like that I can only imagine how many guys—and girls, why not?—surely fall for her every day and for the first time since we started exchanging post-its I wonder, with frightening concern, whether she has a boyfriend, or girlfriend. For some groundless reason I always assumed she was single like me, but I can’t be sure. I never asked her about that and I never meant this meeting as a romantic date, even if in my heart things are like that.

Until this moment I told myself—and everyone—that I couldn’t fancy a girl I never saw, but I knew very well that I didn’t care about that. I knew I fancied Maca without knowing what she looked like or much about her, I was smitten by her words and the essence of her soul I could gather from her post-its. It’s obvious I fancy her. And I assumed she was single and this meeting could be a chance for me to get closer to her, to explore even more my feelings for her and aim for a relationship.

Maca reaches out and grabs my hand, exposing my wrist. Her touch sends a jolt through my skin to every part of my body, making my nerve endings sizzle.

At some point in my life I used to wear many bracelets of any kind. Presents, tokens or simple strands that had some sort of sentimental meaning. Now I only wear my wristwatch and on my other wrist, the bracelet that Maca has attached. It’s simple, brown and of a five-strand braid design.

“I know it’s not much,” Maca begins, her hand holding mine to keep my wrist at sight, exposed to appreciation. “But I hope you like it. Compared to all what you’ve done for me, this feels so insignificant.”

“I love it,” I say, my heart fluttering at the fact she brought something for me.

Her smile is wide and oh so happy when I say that and I squeeze her hand tighter. “I bought it at the street fair. That was such a lovely place, H. I really liked it. So organised and friendly. I wish my own street were like that. The neighbours are really nice and all, but we would never be able to pull off something like that.”

“Neither would we in this building,” I confess. “I really like that street and the fairs they plan. I only found about it because I go to visit Mr McDean and I’ve helped a few times. It’s loads of fun. Once I sold cupcakes with Mr McDean,” I tell her and she smiles candidly at me. Taking advantage of the situation and how she’s focused on this conversation, I slowly lace our fingers, my thumb playing with hers.

“I have to go again and buy some more books because I couldn’t get enough,” she confesses with a sheepish laugh and I have to bite my lip not to grin like a fool.

“I’ll take you,” I say quickly. I bet it’s not necessary to take her back to that street, she knows her way there now, but I want to spend more time with her and if I have to use any opportunity I can get as an excuse, then so be it. “Unless you have someone else to go with you. I don’t want to make your boyfriend uncomfortable,” I add half-heartedly, a bit scared and avoiding her eyes because I’m not sure if I want to hear a confirmation of what I’ve said.

Maca laughs and that confuses me, so my eyes are back on her. “Boyfriend? I don’t have one.” She laughs again as I feel my own heart soaring at the possibility. “I’ve never had one, to be honest. No one has pursued me with that intent,” she admits next in a small voice, avoiding my eyes.

My own eyes widen in disbelief because it seems impossible no one has asked her out before. She’s lovely, sweet, beautiful with such a precious smile that it seems foolish no one else has felt a little bit how I feel and I’ve just seen her today. Surely someone else has realised the wonderful person she is.

“I beg to differ,” I say and she furrows her brow at me, challenging. “I bet many have wanted to ask you out, I mean, any guy would love to be with you, that’s for sure. You’re as beautiful on the outside as you’re in the inside. I just think you haven’t noticed it,” I propose instead, seeing her cheeks burning. “Or maybe your standards are so high no one can meet them.” This other option scares me because what if I can’t meet her standards either?

“I blame it on fictional characters!” I frown for two seconds before I realise she meant it for that option and I laugh. Well, I can’t fight against fictional character because they are made to be perfect, but I surely can fight against anyone else to win her heart. At least, there’s no one real that can steal her. Not that she belongs to me or anything.

“Well, all those guy have been fools,” I state, grateful that they have been so I don’t have any rival. “And it’s a good thing because they wouldn’t have appreciated you as you deserve.”

I’m afraid my words sound like a confession right now and I’m sure that if Maca asks me what I’m implying, I would have to tell her the truth of my feelings. I would end up really confessing. But fortunately—or unfortunately—she doesn’t ask further and the meaning behind my words remain secret. For now.

“Thank you, H. You’re too kind,” she replies instead and I take her hand to my lips to leave a feather light kiss on her knuckles. “And thank you for sending me to that street fair. Mr McDean was so nice. He’s a lovely man and he didn’t laugh at me when I almost killed myself,” she explains and I widen my eyes in fear. “Me just being clumsy,” she clarifies. “I dropped a book, hit my head and you know, typical me.”

“I’m a klutz, too,” I share and we laugh. “At least you didn’t almost destroy his stand. I was helping him to settle everything and the next second all the plays were on the floor and the cats were running away whilst I was left in a tangled mess on the floor.” I laugh and so does she, I keep playing with her thumb. I’m so glad she doesn’t seem to mind I’m still holding her hand.

With her other hand she grabs the picture with Mr McDean and we appreciate it together, she has a sweet smile and so does Mr McDean.

“He said we’re similar… in the clumsy sense,” she laughs. “He also said we should visit him so we could discuss Shakespeare with him. There are many plays we didn’t have time to go through in my course and I’d like to hear another expert’s opinion. My professor was great, I adore her, but it’s always good to have more opinions, especially regarding Shakespeare.”

“I totally agree and I’m happy we can discuss that. It’s easy to find someone who knows of Shakespeare and has watched some plays, but just a few really know about them or have studied them properly as to provide a rich discussion.” I smile at her, delighted that she is the type or person I can have that kind of conversation with.

“I loved all the Shakespeare references,” she adds and I smile that she caught them. “The café, Mr McDean, Rosalind and Orlando, Hamlet! And well, you and Archie, actors who love Shakespeare and are rehearsing A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” She caught them all. “You know I’ll buy tickets for the opening night, don’t you?”

I smile widely, ecstatic that she’ll be coming that night. “I’m counting on that. Talking about Rosie and Orlando, did you like the shelter?” I ask next and her smile widens even more.

“I loved it! Lulu couldn’t leave me alone and it was great to meet to people that were put together for the power of Shakespeare,” she laughs and I totally agree. “It’s a wonderful job they do there.”

She looks for the next picture and it’s a crowded one, people and animals and she looks even happier than in the previous pictures, her smile more luminous and that warms up my heart.

“I left the books I bought there so I have to get them back,” she reminds herself and I grab this new excuse.

“I’ll go with you. I’m sure Lulu will be happy to see us both there.”

“Rosie said Lulu could pass out,” Maca tells me with an easy smile on her lips and I try to imagine that, Lulu too happy to control herself because two people that she likes are there, to play with her and pet her to her heart content. Yeah, she could pass out. “She said I could volunteer there and I think I’d like that. Volunteering is a good way to help in my situation. Many times I tried to join causes but never actually did something, but now I really want to join and help all those animals.”

“That would be wonderful, Maca,” I say not only because it’d help in the shelter and with all the animals, but also because I’m a volunteer there and if she also signs up for it, then we could see each other there and spend time together, looking after animals that need all the love in this world.

“Remember that week when we traded virtues and flaws?” she questions and I nod. “I wish to change those flaws. I know have far too many and that I shield in my own flaws to feel even more miserable and unfitting, but maybe I can change some.”

I squeeze her hand tighter when I hear her talking like that, as if she hated herself. Her voice is bitter and her words harsh, although there’s a tint of hope in the meaning behind all what she’s just said.

“I told you I’m a slacker and I want to change that. I don’t want to sit and wait for things to change anymore. Life won’t get better if I stay in bed and shut the world out, will it?” I shake my head and she smiles sadly at me. “I have to do something that will make me feel better, even a little bit. Maybe I need people to need me… or animals. Maybe feeling like I’m part of something bigger will help me not to feel like the world is too big of a place and I can’t cope with it.”

“The world is too big of a place,” I echo her words and she heaves a defeated sigh. “But even the smallest insect can cope with it. The whole world is not for you to cope with it on your own or to hold all its weight on your shoulders. Just a small part of it, the part of the world you live in. And if you face it instead of hide from it, you’ll realise the world helps you to cope.”

She furrows her brow, thinking of what I’ve just told her, processing the meaning and apprehending it. Slowly, the creases on her forehead disappear and a small smile comes to her lips, a smile that turns wider and lovelier.

“I’ll definitely volunteer. I don’t want to just want to do things, I’ll start doing them,” she promises and I feel actually really proud. I haven’t seen her struggling, but I’ve felt it in my own heart and I can see her tired soul in her eyes, so I know this is an important step for her. “I won’t be a slacker anymore.”

“And when you sign up, I’ll bring that post-it so you can scratch that word,” I propose and her smile becomes even more radiant. “And I’ll make you sing up when we go there to get your stuff back. You can’t step back now.”

She laughs before saying, “I won’t.”

“Quite well then.” I smile at her. “Now, why don’t you tell me now about the meeting with the whovians? I have a feeling this was a special stop for you,” I wink and she chuckles before she grabs the next polaroid and I still hold her hands, not that I’m planning to let it go anytime soon.

-:-:-

Hope you liked it!

Ble, xx