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“I don’t want to!” she shouted.
“Finally you’re being honest.”
“Fuck you, Axel!” She tried to go inside, but I stood between her and the door.
“Why don’t you want to be happy?”
“How can you ask me that?”
“By opening my mouth. By doing it.”
“I hate the way you are. I hate you right now.”
I took it. I repeated to myself that hate was a feeling. One of the strongest ones, the kind that can shake a person, just as it was shaking her. “You can cry, Leah. You can cry with me.”
“With you… You’re the last person…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence before a sob escaped her throat. And then I took a step forward and grabbed her softly, hugging her, feeling her shaking against me. I closed my eyes. I could almost feel her anger, her rage, her pain, so intense that I knew they were blinding her, anchoring her to a place where the only thing you can think is It isn’t right, it isn’t right, it isn’t right. A part of me took pity on her; sometimes all I wanted to do was sit down beside her in silence and give her space, but then I’d remember that girl full of color who had to be hidden somewhere inside her, and then the idea of setting her free was all I could think about; I was obsessed.
I spoke with my lips in her tangled hair. “I’m sorry I ambushed you like this, but it’s better for you. You’ll see. You’ll understand. You’ll forgive me, won’t you, Leah? That hatred, it’s not all for me.” She smiled through the tears. “We’ll do this together, okay? I’ll take care of everything; you just follow me. I’ll guide you if you’re willing to give me your hands.”
I put my hand out to her. She hesitated.
Her eyes looked slowly at the palm of my hand, as if stopping to examine every line and mark. Then her fingers grazed it timidly and stayed there. I squeezed them in mine.
“Deal,” she said.
Two days later, I crossed my arms in front of her. “First rule: my routine is your routine. From now on, when you’re in my house, you’ll do as I do. That means surfing every morning. No, let me finish before you start complaining. We’re a team, that’s the idea. If I’m out in the waves—and there’s no way that’s not happening—you’d better be by my side. We’ll eat together. In the afternoon, while I’m working, you’ll do your homework. After that, there’ll be a little free time; you know I’m quite flexible. Don’t laugh; I’m being serious. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Leah raised an eyebrow. “You’re not remotely flexible.”
“Who the hell says that?”
She rolled her eyes.
“All right, so no one says it. Next. After dinner, we’ll hang out on the porch; then it’s bedtime. You know most tribes work this way? There’s an order, a series of activities throughout the day that have to be done, and a pyramidal structure. It’s that simple.”
“Why are you at the top of the pyramid?”
“Because I’m the cool one. Obvs.”
“So this is gonna be like living in jail.”
“Yeah, but consider the alternative. You’ve been here for three months and haven’t done anything. This way you won’t get bored.”
“It’s not fair!” she replied, indignant.
“Babe, eventually you’ll figure out nothing is.”
Leah huffed and she seemed like more of a girl than ever. I was about to go on telling her how our days would go when she walked past me, smiling. I followed her with my gaze until I was able to make out the tricolor cat sitting in front of the back door, on the porch, not going inside, as though she respected my space and wanted to mark the limits.
“She’s back,” Leah said. “Do we have anything for her?”
I groaned and went to the kitchen. Leah came up beside me, opened a cabinet, and froze when her fingers touched that bag full of strawberry suckers. She pulled her hand back and grabbed a can of tuna.
I sat down next to her on the porch.
“Where do you think she’s from?” she asked.
