Its safe place

The boy in front of me just looks at me and doesn't mention a word. It looks like a witch had cast some kind of spell on him.

Mark bursts out laughing looking at us, but then i start to get upset. I raise my voice a little, but always remaining polite:

The boy finally deigns to answer me, and he answers me with a low voice:

I watch him. I notice that his voice is hoarse. I look at him more carefully and i finally realize who I am in front of.

His ash-coloured curly hair is tousled, some tufts fall on his forehead; the sun that filtered through the trees and then into the bus window highlighted his honey-coloured eyes. That reminded me of those famous candies that my grandmother who lives in Italy often gave to my brother and me.

She filled the pockets of our jackets, and my mother was always unable to scold us, she too was so amused that sometimes she stole some of it from me and Robert.

His lips were plump, and he hints at a bright, sincere smile, he has the typical face of the perfect guy you can rely on and trust for everything.

He's wearing a black jacket with black jeans and a grey sweater, also he's wearing a pair of black and white Nikes.

'He looks tremendously perfect' thought Melissa. It looks like it came out of a film created especially for girls.

After having scrutinized him carefully, i return to reality and answer him without thinking twice:

Mark looks at me with a doubtful face, without being seen i give him a little kick on the leg and he turns to the boy, leans over to give him his hand and then gets comfortable in his seat.

I tell him with a hint of embarrassment

He looks at me and exclaims:

I hint at a laugh and so does he, Mark looks at me then our new friend Chris, he looks visibly confused.

I look at Mark and he finds safety in my eyes, now more calm turns to look at the landscape out the window.

Ten minutes later the bus stops at our school stop, me, Mark and Christian get off and head towards school.

We have everyone eyes on us, but i immediately understand that they are not aimed at me, but at Christian, well, he's the new guy, how can he, at least for a few hours, not be on everyone's mouths?

Among the corridors we hear voices cheering when we pass, the girls are astonished by the good looks of Christian, and this saddens me.

Christian, on the other hand, seems calm, as if he were used to all this, he looks in front of him, now and then he turns to me to look for eye contact, but he pays no attention to the people around him.

We arrive in class and the professor approaches us to introduce himself to the newcomer, I step aside and sit in my usual place with Mark.

After a few minutes, Christian joins us and sits at the counter in front of us, next to Briana Davis. She is the most taciturn girl i have ever met. She never talks to anyone, and she is always alone. Mark and I have often invited her to have lunch with us, but she has always refused.

The Italian teacher brings me back to reality, i take a notebook and pen, and i start writing down notes as he explains.

He begins to talk about how man has always, from the beginning, tampered with nature for his own purposes.

I was so taken by the lesson that i didn't realize, if not thanks to Mark's watchful eye, that Christian often looked at me as if to be able to understand what i was thinking.

Classes go by very quickly today, to the point where i find myself not realizing that it's time for lunch. We leave the classroom and all three of us make our way to the cafeteria.

The canteen has always been the place i hated most; you have everyone's eyes on you, especially when you are looking for a place to sit.

The usual small groups of girls and boys look at you oddly if you dare to approach their table, so Mark and I often found ourselves alone eating.

Today, however, no. Today we have the newcomer with us. All the people who first looked at us oddly now looked at us with heart-shaped eyes and wanted us to sit with them.

We opted for a separate table. Christian sat across me, while Mark decides to go get a piece of pizza out of school. As I bite into a piece of sandwich, Christian asks me

I finish chewing and start telling him a little about my life: about my youtube channel, about my family and how I am at school. I do not dwell on the 'father' subject, since it is such a delicate subject that even just talking about it would burst into tears.

My grandfather died a short time ago, for my father it was a hard blow.

He was very fond of him, and because of an incurable disease, he left us. My father went mad when he discovered the tragic disappearance.

Since then he has been drinking, smoking, and always coming home late.

Do you know when a person you love so much goes away, at any moment? Not being able to talk to that person anymore, hug them, joke, laugh, cry, worry, do shit, talk about serious things.

To my father, my grandfather was all that. It was his safe place.