No idea

   For a moment, we held our foreheads one against the other. It was not a comfortable position but it was the one we somehow needed to hold for a moment. I felt his breathing near me and even his heart pumping blood all over his body. I could see his pores and even smell the chicken and egg sandwich he had eaten for lunch. His eyes were shut but mine were open, looking at him and him only, wondering if that moment was really happening or if I had been transported to another strange dimension.

 But it was not one thing or the other. It was just one of those moments in drawing class when the teacher asks two students to come forward and pose for the rest. Of course, we would all be having actual models later in our careers and in college, but for the time being it was best to use ourselves as pieces of art. My partner in the exercise, Alex, was a kid that never spoke too much and that used to carry a huge block all over the place. He would always draw when there was no class to go to.

 What I did in those empty spaces of time between classes was to hang out with other students or go to the library and try to pass the time reading magazines or sitting in one of the many computers available for investigation. I would invent something to do for myself and then spend the rest of the afternoon there. I had never been a very social person, which might have made Alex and me really close but we were still two very different people. He was, and always had been an artist. I wasn’t.

 My family was made up by my father who was an engineer, my mother who was an architect and a sister that had recently left to pursue her career as a publicist. She would write to my mother almost daily about all the exciting things she was doing for herself and I would have to listen to my mom talk about it over and over again, during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister too but sometimes it was a bit too much of the same damn subject. But then again, there wasn’t another.

 My decision to become an artist had been subject of the most passive resistance I had ever witnessed for my parents. Thank God, that had happened only for a month, the time between the first payment and the first actual day of college. And had decided that to be my route in the blink of an eye after coming out of high school. My parents were not only against the decision because of the career being Arts but because I had never really shown an interest in it or, to be fair, an actual talent for anything that someone might consider an art form.

 Nevertheless, I assured them I was certain that it was the career I needed to achieve my dreams and goals. So they paid for it. My parents would never be the kind of parents that would say “no” to their children. Not that we were spoiled or anything like that, but they always knew when was the moment to say “yes” and they had to intervene. Apparently, this life choice had to be respected, so I entered my first year with the goal to make it all work and make them see that I was right.

 However, my second year had begun and I still had no idea why I was there. To be honest, being weird and not social wasn’t the only reason why people wouldn’t really talk to me. You see, artist love to have other artists to talk about… Well, arts. They don’t really care that much for people with other interests. Just look at any tabloid: most actors or actresses marry other actors or actresses or maybe someone in the business anyway. Yes, they might be exceptions but that seems to be the rule.

 And in my second year, it was quite obvious. Some of my fellow classmates, most of them to be honest, had already discovered what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives. The first year had been an introduction to the whole things, so after that, it was kind of expected by the teachers that every single person would have an interest that was more of a goal than any of the other things they would learn about. And the cool thing is that they could start choosing classes that suited those interests.

 That was the reason why my schedule for the year was all over the place. Contrary to most people, I was having a little bit of everything. I had music and pottery and then photography and drawing and writing. There was even a women studies class that I included solely because it gave me necessary credits to graduate. But I had no idea what people were discussing most of the times, except when the discussions got very heated. Then, I loved to see people fight for their causes, even if they were clearly wrong.

 The point is, I had no interests and I wasn’t good at anything. Yeah, my grades were fine. Not excellent or dreadful, just fine. I didn’t excel in anything and I wasn’t a total disaster either. I was one of those students, which always got asked their name, even if I had said it out loud in at least twenty different classrooms. I was sometimes tempted to lie about it but then all these issues and problems came to mind and I just decided either not to raise my hand ever in class or simple say my name always before answering any questions or stating my personal opinion.

The second year drew to a close fast. There were two more years and then we would have to choose what we would do for our finals. We didn’t really have many exams, like in other careers. We had to build a project and then just do it. I think that was the worst part of it all. I had no idea what to do and I started worrying about it the day that second year ended. Those holidays were not really relaxing at all. My back would hurt every single day and the number of nightmares was growing exponentially.

 It was so bad, that I decided to go to the shrink that the university had in campus to help students. Of course, he helped people with bigger issues than mine but I went there anyway because I actually thought he could be able to help me. The moment I saw the amount of people waiting for their slot of time, I was baffled at either how many people had so many issued in college or how bad this doctor was at what he did. You’re supposed to not go back if your problems were solved, right? Isn’t that the deal?

 I went there for about two weeks and then never came back because I had no idea why I was going at all. I realized the problems I had were becoming worse because that damn shrink wasn’t helping at all. He was actually trying to get to my deepest insecurities and private pains, and that would have been a box that I didn’t need to have open. The weirdest thing was, a month later, when I ran into him in an elevator and he looked at me the whole ride, clearly wanted some sort of an excuse from me.

 Surprisingly, I came up with my project’s idea one day, when Alex came into the library and just started talking about what he was going to with his own project. I listened to him for a while and then we had to leave because the librarian thought we were being too loud. He finished telling me his story sitting on a bench near the cafeteria. I remained silent until he asked me for my opinion and I had to be honest with him: I had no opinion because how would I dare to criticize someone who had already thought it all through?

 And then it hit me: I was going to be the subject of my own project. I would do something like a collage of various forms of art in which I would always be at the center. My struggle to know who I was would be my theme and the subject would be me.

 I had fun making it all, coming up with the ideas and telling all the professors about it. Yeah, they didn’t really get as excited as I was but at least I got a nice grade and Alex became some sort of friend. We even talk nowadays, when he’s not looking up at the ceiling. Oh, and I still don’t know who I am.

We danced

   And we just danced. We did it all night long and all over the gardens. It was funny to practice this way, in a real palace, with someone who could understand how awful I was at it. The movie required me to dance with a beautiful princess for a few minutes (seconds in the movie) and I really wanted to nail it. So they brought someone to help us and there he was. It was ridiculous to have known him for so many years and, at the same time, having no idea who he really was.

 Our dance teacher was Alexander Frost. I had seen him for the first time the day I arrived at high school. The thing was that that place was my third high school. Because of my parents work I had to go from here to there. But this was the one where I would do my last two years and then it would be off to college, wherever that might be. I saw Alex that first day but didn’t thought anything of him. Not once, during those two years, did I really speak to him. Maybe greet him in the hall if I happened to be late for class or in the bathroom but that was it.

 And now, here he was. I’m afraid I never cared about my fellow classmates in high school. It was clear for me that the friends I had made there were only temporary. I didn’t want anything to do with them after finishing the time I had to spend there. This may seem like a hash thing to say but I was just fed up with all the moving and changing. College would be another change and, for me at least, it would be my real ticket into having friends and so on. I just had to jump those last hurdles to get there.

 Besides, and I should have said this before, people in my high school were not precisely interesting nor the nicest. I know my parents tried to do their best so they put me in the best school they could think of. Academically speaking, it certainly was. I learned a lot more than many others did at that age but, nevertheless, school is not only for learning. School is supposed to be the place where you make those first social connections and when you get into society as such. Well, I didn’t.

 When I got to college, I was the happiest person in the world. Also very frightened and shy but happy nonetheless. I wanted to make it big in life so I took my film studies pretty seriously. I worked hard and did everything that was asked from me and even more. Of course, I created my first social links here and it was a lot easier than in school, where everything seemed so convenient and mandatory. Not in college. There, I felt I could be anyone and no one would mind and some would even like me that way.

 So when I first so Alex on set, I felt myself going back to school. I cannot lie: it felt like being stabbed and bleeding profusely for hours. I know how it sounds but I hated high school. I hated it. I felt like a mouse constantly trying to survive, running around, feeling a thousand eyes on me and then none at the same time. I felt scared and hopeless every single day there. And that was the same thing I felt when Alex came on set: insecurity and anxiety.

 We had been rehearsing for hours that day and I think, because I was tired, I did not properly realize what had happened. So that night I slept like a baby and didn’t even think of the whole thing. But next morning, it was like being back in high school. I’m not proud to say that I had to vomit early in the morning. It was lucky that I hadn’t had that much to eat. I brushed my teeth and got on set smiling and trying to be the same that the day before but that was clearly impossible.

 Mistake after mistake, the director would correct me. He’s such a great person but even I knew I was sucking hard. I was awful every single and he got tired. He told all of us that instead of rehearsal we would have our first dance lesson. My co-star, Veronica, was a very experienced dancer. She had worked in theater for a long time so she knew her way around the dance floor. But me, I had no idea. And it was then when the director brought Alex in and, shame on me, I laughed.

 It has to be one of the most awkward moments of my life. I didn’t laugh for hours or anything, it was just one laugh and then closing my mouth and noticing how everyone was looking at me as if I had killed someone right there. Then I greeted Alex and we just went on with the lesson. He said it was better if I danced with him first and then Veronica. So that day she left early and we were left alone to practice like mad. Soon, I forgot everything about high school and the weird moment that had occurred before. I wanted to be good, great even, in this movie so I really focused on getting it right.

 This went on for two more weeks. Meanwhile, we would shoot other scenes in other places. We traveled to Vienna for the filming and it was so beautiful we all felt we had already won several awards. After a particular difficult morning of filming, the director decided we could have the afternoon of. We would begin again the next morning but then Alex appeared, out of nowhere, and told me I had to practice hard as the next day would be the shooting of the dance scene.

 Surprisingly, he told Veronica to go and rest. I had already danced with her a couple of times by then and I thought it was very odd not to practice with her for the last time. I danced with Alex in a room they lend us at the palace where the filming was taking place and it was just amazing. I almost felt myself float and Alex told me I was doing a great job. We also went outside, to the gardens, and danced there, as another scene would take place down there. The place was really quiet and we only stopped when a security guard came to see what was going on.

 The next day, I rocked the dancing scene. We did it again a few times and Veronica hugged me hard when we finished. She was thrilled that the scene had gone so smoothly. We watched it a couple of times on a small screen and everything looked great: the lights, the costumes, the production design and, of course, our dancing. We went back home a couple of days later, having wrapped up the movie. I knew it would be a great piece one they had it finished and I looked forward the premiere.

 Back at my house, I was surprised to see that Alex had sent me a box containing a big bar of chocolate, raisins covered in chocolate, a video game and a paper that happened to be a printed email in which a restaurant confirmed a reservation in his name. He had highlighted the name of the place, the address and the time. So naturally, I was confused. A guy was practically asking me out. But that wasn’t really the problem. The thing was that bar of chocolate had always being my favorite, I loved raisins covered with chocolate and the video game was one I had always wanted but never had.

 I went to the restaurant, trying not to look like I had tried too hard with my clothes. He was already there so we sat down and ordered and then started talking about the movie, the dancing, exchanging data for future work opportunities and, finally, his gift box. Then, as we were having our main courses, he looked at me and I noticed his eyes were watery and his skin was a bit red. He doubted of his words but finally asked me if I knew who he was.

 It was funny because I realized then that I had never told him anything about high school. We just got the lessons going and that was it. We hadn’t said a word about the past and now he was asking about it. So I answered:

-               - Of course I know.

-               - Why didn’t you say something? – He said, almost scolding me.

         - It happened so long ago. I don’t like to remember those days.

 Then he shed a tear and, before I could ask anything else, he changed the subject and came back to his old self from the movie set. We had a nice dinner and he even took me home. Just as I had opened my door, my cellphone started ringing in my coat pocket. It wasn’t an incoming call but and SMS. I almost dropped it when I read it. It was from Alex.

-            -  I have loved you for all these years. Sorry. Have a nice sleep.