Chapter Two: "False normality"

I get into the parking lot in front of the institute. I park as far as possible in a square that has been a bit invaded by a huge car and when I do I can breathe easily again. I take a last look inside the car, checking that everything is in order, and just when I am about to open the car door calmly and peacefully, a sharp knock makes me close my eyes tightly.

You can tell it's not my fucking day.

"Fuck!" I hear the hoarse, angry yell from the other driver.

I manage to get out of the car without damaging his car more and mentally I had already prepared the best apology that can occur to me to be hours in the morning. I hang my backpack over my shoulder and climb out of the hiding place provided by his car. I lift my chest in an attempt to appear, I don't know what I mean by this gesture, but I do it.

The alleged owner has his eyebrows so close together that they appear to be a continuous line. I step away from the scene of the crime and open my mouth in surprise at the dent I have made.

This is going to cost me a fortune… A fortune I don't have.

As a last resort to keep from going crazy, I breathe in and try to calm down and behave like an adult.

"Can you tell who the hell gave you the fucking license?" He curses but doesn't seem to be talking to me because he's not looking at me. His gaze remains fixed on the dent and I connect my two remaining neurons.

This is his baby car.

I try not to laugh because apart from that, it is a serious situation that must be resolved professionally. For the first time he looks at me and I even notice the fury emanating from his body. I adopt a calm posture in a vague attempt to relax her. At the end of the day, it is still a piece of metal.

"Is what you've done to my car nice to you?" He says when he sees that I still don't say anything to him.

As always, my neurons are a little behind and sometimes have a hard time working.

"Do not worry. I'll pay you the cost of the fix. " My calm voice seems to infuriate him more.

"Of course you're going to pay for it!"

He snorts and rolls his eyes and I would too because of the childish way he's acting right now.

In the blink of an eye, we exchanged insurance details. To tell the truth, when we finally leave so much paperwork behind he seems to have relaxed a little more, and calmly I proceed to observe him in more detail. His hair messy with his rage makes it difficult for me to see his face, but at that moment he doesn't bother me at all. Underneath his clothes, he looks sturdy and sticks half my head out of me. When he finishes writing on the paper he meets his gaze with mine and a familiar sensation invades my body.

"We'll see you, Karla Smith."

It sounds like an innocent sentence, but his tone of voice when formulating my name suggests otherwise. Both of my neurons go berserk for various reasons; This boy does not know me at all and he knows my name —yes, he may know it thanks to the data that we have exchanged, but I emphasize that I only have two functional neurons —; His gaze is different from the ones I'm used to and I'm going to tell you why.

The man from this morning, the half-naked man who was eating my toast, his eyes changed as if it were magic. And now, the man whose baby car I have dented, the tonality of his right eye is pure green and that of the left is a mixture of blue and green. One of the most beautiful mutations there is called heterochromia. I remember studying it in biology, something related to genetics, or something like that.

I come back to reality when his eyes are separated from mine and that feeling of familiarity turns into a total emptiness. I can't help but follow him with my eyes and as I do so I see Sara out of the corner of my eye. I approach her with the same calm that I always carry, even knowing that because of this incident I am late for class.

"Karla?" She runs her hand in front of my face when I stand in front of her and keep saying a word. "Are you okay?"

"Aha, why?"

"What do you mean by why?" I raise an eyebrow. "Everyone has heard you and that guy argue." I shrug.

"I've dented her car and that's it." I start to drive away and she follows me closely to listen to me. I've passed the insurance details to him and now I'll have to pay for the repair of what appears to be an expensive car. ”I sigh. I will have to work at least a whole month to pay for it.

She puts a hand on her shoulder to make me stop and she looks at me with curiosity and surprise.

"Did you give him your phone number?" I nod, not knowing where she wants to go with this conversation, clearly not to class.

A huge smile forms on his face and he looks at me with pride in my gaze. I'm still confused and when I open my mouth to explain what is happening, she starts talking excitedly.

"My dear friend made a friend and she flirted with him!"

The few people left around us look at us curiously. I position my hand on his shoulder to stop talking nonsense and stop exposing us. If in all these years of high school I have tried to stay out of all the students so that they never know who I am, at that moment it was cracking.

"I wouldn't call that flirting, Sara. Rather the complete opposite. I think I have made an enemy."

"A very handsome enemy," she says and her eyebrows rise and fall without stopping.

I stop them with my fingers and she pouts.

"Rather, it makes things worse."

I turn around trying to arrive at least first thing in the morning. I hear a loud sigh of despair on her part but completely ignore it.

"Well, since I see you don't want to talk about it, let's talk about something else." I won't forget it though, darling.

"You mean you will talk and I will listen, right?"

She ignores my comment and continues talking.

"Guess who I was with this summer with," she says with a smile from ear to ear.

"If you don't tell me, I don't know."

She rolls her eyes.

"With Rubén's family." The enthusiasm in her voice is palpable.

She has a not very healthy obsession with that boy. But what obsession is good?

"Dude, it was her - she stops herself looking for the right word - it was fucking great." He's so hot without a shirt. ” She bites her lip.

I put my eyes on white.

I am surrounded by hormones. Call me when they finish with this long stage of life.

I have never seen this boy, but with Sara's help I know up to what shoe size he wears. It's the kind that goes into FBI mode when they like someone. From what I know he is red-haired, white as snow, and freckles adorn his face. To tell the truth, I am not very interested in the subject of this boy, he has never interested me. I've never seen him but he already gives me a bad feeling and I think he's too superficial, I don't know, call it intuition.

I stare at my friend's profile, all excited, her eyes shining and a smile tattooed on her face. And inadvertently I smile. I love her, I don't want to be hurt but I can't help but feel happy to see her happy with her.

"Girl," I interrupt her endless monologue because we have already arrived at my class, "I don't know how long I'm going to put up with you talking to me about Rubén's perfect body." I bet my salary for a month that even I would know how many freckles he has on his face and that I have not seen him in person. I know you like him, God, believe me when I tell you that it has been clear to me since the first time you told me about him, and I know, too, that he likes you too, even if it's just to fuck. So stop rubbing your sexual fantasy with that adonis. "

As he processes all the things I have said to him, another of the many smiles forms on his lips. He has his eyes fixed on a fixed point and when he finally looks at me I can see that glow of illusion and happiness and my heart melts again. He lets out a squeak, turning around, moving his long chocolate hair from side to side.

I turn around and find the smiling face of a guy I don't know.

"Hello."

I will never make it to class.

"Hi."

I try to leave, to get away from him, from the conversation he wants to have, but he prevents me by cutting off my path.

"Hey, I found out what just happened with my brother," he says, taking my arm. He raises his hand to his head and scratches the back of his neck, apparently nervous. I just wanted you to not worry about the dent. You don't have to pay anything, it's just that he is very fond of the car.

"It usually happens with the first car."

"Yeah, right," he says and gives me a more relaxed smile.

I walk into class, and it seems like it's been the longest trip of my life. I move quickly trying not to let the teacher see that I have been a little late but I did not go as unnoticed as I thought.

"Hi, guys," says Mr. Harrison as he approaches my table. "How was your summer?"

I frown. I did not expect that question.

"Well."

"You know you can talk to me when you need it, Karla," he says for the umpteenth time.

I nod and automatically smile to try to get him to relax and leave me alone. I've had too much social contact for today and it's only eight in the morning. Just thinking about it exhausts me.

I look at my watch and am happy to know that there are ten minutes to go before an endless Chemistry class is over. While I wait for the doorbell to ring, I play with the cord of my headphones until something, rather someone catches my attention. Everyone looks in his direction, including me until I realize who he is. I try by all possible means not to see myself hiding my face with my hair.

"You're late," I hear the teacher say when she sees him come in. "Very late."

"I'm sorry." Again his tone of voice denotes otherwise.

Such is the silence that forms that I can hear the pulsations of my nervous heart and the footsteps of the lunatic with the colored eyes. His steps stop and without ever uncovering my face and those eyes catch me just like the first time. A sideways smile forms on her face and she sits next to me.

"Hi, Smith."

He puts his backpack on the table and takes his little cell phone out of his pocket. He turns it on to see the time and then turns her gaze to me. Instantly he directed her to another place because I don't want to lose myself in the color of her eyes again. That creates another small smile that I can catch out of the corner of my eye and imitate my position but stare at me. My heartbeat becomes more frantic and I feel the air leaking from my lungs. I try to pay attention to the teacher or at least pretend I'm doing it so as not to think about him, but it's impossible.

"We know each other?" My voice sounds more relaxed than I am.

"Sure, you're the one who killed my baby this morning."

I put my eyes on white.

"How dramatic."

He gives me a huge smile again and I curse everything that can be cursed when my eyes connect with his again.

Can you tell me what's wrong with me? He's just a guy with different eyes than most and that's it, relax.

But it is impossible for me. That colored eye engulfs me and I lose myself. I am not even capable of looking away, of listening to anything other than the silence that surrounds us. Never in my life have I been so tense-looking someone in the eye. Nor is it that I am one of the people who make a lot of eye contact and yet here I am, sitting in class paying more attention to the stranger next to me than to the teacher, staring at every detail of his gaze.

The last ten minutes of class are over and when I finally connect with the real world I find myself wanting to return to his. Wishing to return to that feeling that I only have to look at his eyes.

I haven't known him for 24 hours, I tell myself reproachfully.

Don't make it an obsession, Karla. I don't like this adolescent behavior.