The days by his side Read online

  Right near the door, Ben was writing something in his notebook, he did not look at me for a minute, but a small line on his lips suddenly formed when he noticed that I was watching him. He laughed at me again, at least a shape of a smile formed, but the reason for his hesitation I do not know. I looked away and settled back in my chair, still tired from running up the stairs. I dropped my notebook on the floor as soon as I pulled it out of my backpack, and then everything I had in my pencil bag, all for just being nervous. Some pathetic laughter erupted from the back of the room.

  “Sly!” I heard some student say.

  “Hey! I don’t allow this kind of behavior in my class,” teacher Carlos scolded whoever said that.

  I preferred not to look back to see who it was. My face flushed when the teacher helped me to pick up the material, it showed how pathetic I was, and I could not pick up my material without dropping it over and over again.

  I opened the notebook and as I searched for the last written page, I took the opportunity to spy on Ben in disguise. Not disguised at all, for Ben suddenly looked at me. Those turbulent eyes stared at me for seconds which seemed endless; he whispered me something. Something that made me look away and stare into his lips, trying to decipher what he was telling me. The lips I have often dreamed of kissing.

  I am sorry, that was what I could understand. Ben apologizing was unlikely to happen. Maybe he was embarrassed to act like an asshole. An extremely beautiful asshole. I hesitated once again to admire his beauty. He smiled again, displaying his beautiful teeth. I turned my face, no longer wanting to show my interest in him. I looked at what really mattered: the subject of the day. Although this is not one hundred percent true.

  The break bell rang, Ben called me ... He actually called me by my name, not my real name, but he called me Elle. The only people at school who often called me by that name were Mom and Carla. I do not remember introducing myself.

  I did not want to answer him but leaving Ben waiting would be almost an offense to him. Especially since the whole room is staring at us. Benjamin, the school’s ex-popular, talking to the laughter.

  “What you want?” I asked dryly, as if I did not care what he was talking to me.

  “I'll just say one more time,” He moved his chair closer to my desk. “I am sorry,” So I had read his lips correctly. “If you don't accept my apologies, you and I will take zero at an assignment,” It seemed to Ben like I was forced to accept his apology for him not to take zero.

  “I don't like your jokes! Don't you think you're big enough to make those kinds of jokes?”

  “And don't you think you're young enough to act like my mother?” Ben replied. I didn't know which was more horrible, Ben comparing me to his mother, or implying that I looked like an old woman.

  We stood there for a few seconds without saying anything. I watched every trace of his face, and he looked terribly behind my glasses. Ben raised one of his eyebrows, intrigued by the way I was looking at him.

  “Ah, there you are!” Carla appeared, saving me from the awkward moment I had caused while drooling over Ben. “You were taking so long, I was worried,” she said, putting her arm over my shoulder. “Hmmm!” She looked at Ben, I poked her with my elbow, and then I realized that all the other students had already left for the break. There was only me and Ben left, and now Carla. “Come on Elle, we will miss most of the break, I'm hungry. She held my hand, pulling me to the door.”

  “Don´t you come?” I asked Ben.

  “No, thank you,” he answered with disdain.

  “And will you be twenty minutes alone with nothing to do?” I insisted a bit more.

  “16 minutes now,” Ben replied looking at the time on the phone. His eyes mediated between the mobile display and Carla. A little jealousy and a little anger for Carla to draw so much attention took over my being at that moment.

  She noticed the attention Ben's eyes gave her and made a face of total disinterest for him. And I.... Well, I just wanted to get out of there ASAP. It is okay that Ben does not care about me, but I did not want him to be interested in Carla at all. I cursed Ben mentally for that.

  “Stay there, you and your self-pity,” I said, my voice slightly altered. He looked at me surprised by my sudden change of mood. I left the room, leaving him alone.

  “Was this an overreaction just because Ben gave me a simple look? You know I was never interested and never will be interested in Benjamin. He's an asshole, and you're tired of knowing that.”

  “Ok, I'm sorry,” I said, already regretting my moment of instant fury. “And, I know what Benjamin is. You don't have to be throwing it in my face…” I was interrupted when two students studying in my class bumped into me so hard that they almost knocked me down. One was Bruno, a basketball player on the school team, the other was André. “Hey!” I said as they laughed for no apparent reason.

  “Are you alright?” Carla asked, holding on to my arm. “You should apologize! You animal!” she shouted at them.

  “Carla, I am fine.”

  Amid laughter and conversation mingling in the schoolyard, I was sure I heard the noise of a moving wheelchair. My ears were right. Ben approached me from behind, tearing off a paper that was glued to my back. Paper I imagine was glued by the two students who passed me laughing. I knew some insult against me was written on it. Ben passed me with the paper in hand, he called the two students. They looked in Ben's direction, right after they came to meet him.

  “Hey! You missed something!” Ben said, calling him with his finger. The taller student, with gel-hardened blond hair, bent down to better understand what Ben was saying. And the moment Bruno did that, Ben shoved the paper into his mouth, letting him completely disoriented and causing a general laugh in the students.

  Bruno stood up, took the paper from his mouth, crumpled it and threw it to the floor. He clenched his fist and was ready to start a fight with Ben. Carla and I stared at each other, thinking it too unreal to be happening. Someone was at a disadvantage there, and surely that was Benjamin...

  “Y

  ou wouldn´t beat a guy in a wheelchair, would you?” Ben asked with pure sarcasm to Bruno.

  For sure Bruno would not do that. Who would be crazy to beat a “poor” paraplegic boy? At least he would not be able to do that with the whole school staring at him. Bruno glanced sideways, then to the ground and back again. Yes, the school was all there, looking at Ben with a mischievous smile on his face, and at Bruno, who was so pale, his face looked like a sheet of paper.

  When Bruno saw that he would tarnish his image, he decided to swallow his pride of bully guy and turned away, disappearing among the crowd of curious students.

  “That's the power of the wheelchair!” Ben cursed, slapping the chair wheels twice.

  Carla and I stared at each other for the phrase Ben said. He was an idiot, I knew that. Always knew, but never wanted to admit. Only that this time, he had done something good in my favor. I pushed my glasses up, crossed my arms and thanked him:

  “Thanks!” I looked down, pinning it to the sheet of paper, leaned down, and took the note that Bruno had pasted on my back. I fainted him, noting that he was a little wet with Bruno's drool.

  I'm retarded, just like my mother. It was what was written on it.

  I hated when they did that. It was ok they make fun of me, but whenever they mess with mom, I got upset. Upset is not quite the word, but sadness defined that moment well. Dude, could not they put themselves in my seat for at least a few seconds? What if it was with their mother? Would it be all right? Would they feel good?

  I wanted to be alone, cry in secret. Plunge into my sea of sadness. I had to do this before the tears rolled down my cheeks. I got out of the crowd and went to hide in the restroom. I bumped into a girl upon entering, but I did not apologize, she muttered something, and I entered an empty cubicle. I stood there for a few minutes until Carla appeared.

  “Elle!” she called me and then punched the door. “The bell has already rung.”

&nb
sp; “I know, I'll go later,” I said, sniffing my nose.

  “Aren't you crying again over these idiots, are you?”

  “I told you I’ll go later.”

  “Ah, I found you!” a male voice said from the other side of the door. Ben's male voice, to be exact.

  “What are you doing here? This is the ladies' room,” Carla asked, her voice a little high.

  “Like I can't read. Now excuse me,” I heard Ben say. “Elle! I know you're there!”

  “She won't leave,” Carla answered for me.

  But what is Ben doing here exactly? It is not just because he is disabled that he could use this to break into the ladies' room.

  “All right, I can tell the teacher that you were late because you had to help me in the restroom.”

  “What?” I opened the door immediately upon hearing the absurdity that Benjamin had said. He looked at me intrigued. I know I must look awful, but he could at least disguise.

  My face is probably red, my eyes are swollen, and yet to improve my condition, I am sniffing.

  “I've seen you in better condition.”

  “How can you be like this, so… So...”

  “So what?” Ben asked me and then winked at me. I hated it when he did that.

  “Nasty,” I finally concluded. “This space is prohibited for you.”

  “I just came to see how you were,” he came to see how I was? From “I don't give a shit about you”, Ben has now gone to “I care about you”. I just could not understand which of the two Ben the real one was.

  “I think you better get out before they got you,” I suggested.

  “I agree with her,” said Carla.

  “And where is the thank you? Nowadays you can't be the hero anymore,” Ben said, moving the wheelchair towards the door.

  “Thanks. Now please, go away,” I said, pointing to the door.

  Ben followed, but before, braked the chair, stood between the door frame, looked at me intriguingly, smiled sideways and said:

  “You're not retarded,” And then blinked, leaving me alone with Carla.

  I buried my hand in my hair and went to look in the mirror. I took off the clip and remade the ponytail.

  “Three points for Ben today. Defended you, got you out of the restroom and also stated what you are not,” Carla said, sitting on the marble sink.

  “He indeed managed to surprise me today at all,” She smiled and hit me with a light punch on the arm.

  Upon entering the room, I had to make up some excuse for the teacher, as I was a good student and I was never late after the break, it was easy to make her believe me.

  The rest of the classes dragged on slowly. We had a geography class, two in a row, a further increase to my boredom. Geography has never been one of my favorite subjects.

  Ben spoke to me a few times:

  Today I have an appointment ... The teacher interrupted him.

  But tomorrow we can do the school assignment... The teacher interrupted him again.

  I will not come to school tomorrow... He was interrupted again.

  Another one of those unavoidable commitments. He said as if I really knew what he was talking about.

  “Benjamin, out of the room!” without arguing, Ben grabbed his things, set them on his lap, shrugged, and slowly left the room as the other students burst into laughter.

  Ben stopped, looked at me again and whispered:

  “Tomorrow at my house. 4:30 pm,” he looked away, concentrating on the teacher, winked at her, who rolled her eyes instantly.

  3rd Day

  This time, the reception at Ben's house was quieter. No loud sounds or infamous songs. His mother looked a little more flushed and cheerful. Maybe she spent a beautiful morning at the pool. Yes, a beautiful pool just beyond the garden, surrounded by a small wire fence. One more care with the state that Benjamin is, I imagine.

  “Hi!” he said after I entered his room. Ben was facing the computer. I stood in the doorway for a moment. “Come on, I don't bite.”

  I approached slowly. All care was not enough when it came to Benjamin, I had not forgotten my last visit here. I rested my hand on the back of the wheelchair and watched him arrange a playlist, which I thought was for the school assignment.

  “None of those songs?” I asked.

  “Today I'll let it pass. You can choose one of these songs if you want,” Ben said in a peaceful tone.

  I approached him even more, trying to see the names of the songs. I hated it when my vision failed, but that was one reason to be closer.

  I could hear his breathing as his eyes stared at me from the corner, embarrassing me. I should not have come so close. I kept my eyes fixed on the screen while he continued to stare at me... Staring was not the right word but analyzing. He was analyzing my face, making me completely uncomfortable. I felt as his eyes went through every part of my face and soon after, stopped in my mouth.

  I looked at him incredulously. What does Ben think he is doing besides embarrassing me?

  “What?” I asked, trying to understand the reason for all that.

  “It must be awful,” I put myself in an upright position. “Having an incredibly beautiful face and at the same time to suffer from all kinds of bullying, just because you wear these extremely hideous glasses and because you’re the daughter of the executioner teacher in school.”

  I tried to divide everything Ben said into parts:

  First: Benjamin said I have a beautiful face. I am sure all my blood flow is located on my face now.

  Second: Benjamin said my glasses are extremely horrible. I should tell him some truths right now, but I am still thinking about the first thing that was said.

  Third: He called my mother an executioner, I finally forget what was said first and go in my mother’s defense.

  “You shouldn't talk about my mother like that without knowing her. And if you were to speak badly of her later, what was the point of all that scene yesterday at school? Why did you defend her?” I asked.

  “I didn't defend her, but you,” So, it was for me. I could not let Ben deceive me, but I did not want to avoid it.

  “Don't call her an executioner again, or I won't answer for myself.”

  “Fine!” he said, turning his attention to the computer while letting a smile appear on his lips. “How about this one?” Ben put the headphone in my ear.

  “I thought that you had already started taking the assignment seriously,” I took the headphone off and handed it to him.

  “And what's the matter with this song?” he asked seriously as if he were dissatisfied with my reaction.

  “The problem is not the music, it's my mother. The lyrics are too short. It is a repetitive chorus. If we present it to her, the most she would give us is half the grade.

  “So you are not in the mood to sing for your mother, I Said why does it feel so good? So good to be bad,” Ben tried his best to imitate the singer's voice. I laughed at his little improvisation. “I'm a great copycat.”

  “That's what you say.”

  “So try to do better,” he looked at me defiantly. I was speechless. “Come on, Elle. We don't have all the time in the world.”

  “I pass,” I said, not wanting to play a ridiculous role.

  It was two hours there, trying to find a song that would fit my mother's pattern. Right now, I have this advantage over the rest of the class. Be the daughter of the English teacher. That means I know all her musical tastes. But the issue here is not musical taste, but finding a song, with an easy lyric to sing, but at the same time demonstrating an apparent degree of difficulty.

  When I look out through the window, I see that it was already dark. Darkness already prevailed outside, meaning I was late. It was almost time for my mother to arrive, I should have started to prepare dinner. I grabbed my belongings and waved goodbye to Ben. He did not understand my sudden rush.

  On the way home, I still thought about the first thing that was said.

  Benjamin

  4th Day
>
  O ne of the disadvantages of being paraplegic is that you have to rely on someone for everything. That someone was definitely my mother. She was my legs and sometimes my arms. My father gave up on me some time ago, so I also decided to give up on him. Not that we spend all the time arguing, but his lack of interest in me was because something that he realized: I make no effort to recover. He is not wrong, I rarely struggle.

  Mom helps me out of the car, the chair is already in a position that makes it easy for me to sit, I hold in the door and push myself, my mother's arms are under mine, my other hand I put on the armrest. Mom drives me, and I do the same with the force of my arms. I sit down, and my mother gasps and wipes the sweat that runs from her forehead. A big effort for a woman who already looked tired, but she is always around, never stops helping me. And I am very grateful to her for that.

  We have an adapted car with a ramp, but today it is in the workshop for maintenance.

  A group of girls near the school wall look at me curiously. Before they looked at me with desire, today I am seen as a freak. Some of them feel sorry for me, which I find worse than being seen as a freak.

  I feel their eyes on me again as my mother guides my wheelchair. I already know what they must be thinking: He's handsome, it's a pity he's paraplegic. This is one of the disadvantages, let's say girls are not very attracted to a guy who relies on a wheelchair to get around.

  Mom lowers her face, trying to place a kiss on my cheek. I turn my face, trying to avoid this embarrassment in public.

  “Mom, not here. Ok?” she crosses her arms, staring at me with indignation.

  “Don't you want to show others how an affectionate and loving child you are?”

  “Mom, please,” I bowed my head, feeling embarrassed.

  “Ok! Do you want help getting into school?”

  “No need, I will figure out,” I answered, seeing Carla leaning against the school gate. She was trying to fix her blond hair while the wind did the work of messing it up. Carla definitely had an angel face, and I wanted to look at her more closely. “Bye, mom,” I pushed the button, turning on the chair, heading towards Carla.