The Darkest Parts of Me

Patricia laughed, hearing the water be spat violently from Marina’s mouth and into the sink, misting it about that general area.

“What!” she screeched.

“I spoke and stood next to—”

“No, I heard what you said! What happened? Where the hell was this? Did you get his phone number? What did he say to you?” The question flowed from her mouth as if she was writing a will of questions in her last couple of seconds.

“I was standing, he found me, in a deserted part of town, no, talked to me about the weather and then I congratulated him on the Spain World Cup win,” Patricia replied rather calmly, most of the question in order, hopefully.

“Are you sure that’s all that happened?” Marina asked, sitting back down on the couch, her glass full of water clutched tightly in her hand.

“He wiped rain off my face,” she laughed, recalling how much of an idiot she felt like, but how the butterflies had indeed raped her stomach violently at that moment in time. “And he asked my name. He also said that maybe we’d cross paths again someday.”

“Did you just stand there or did you mob him?” Marina asked excitedly.

“I stood there, you know very well that I would love to mob him, but I at least have some self control,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she finished her soup and stood, heading to the kitchen.

“Well, that’s probably for the better. But Fernando fucking Torres!” Marina squealed and Patricia rolled her eyes. She could believe what a fangirl Marina could be sometimes, especially with how she acted. It actually was quite amazing that she talked this much. Marina was always a pretty quiet kid.

“I’m going to go out on the balcony,” Patricia said, walking to the door to the right of the living room, and walked out onto the balcony, taking in a whiff of the freshly falling rain.

She leaned against the white metal railing, crossing her wrists as she set them on the top bar and leaned against it. “Oh I love you, Spain,” she commented to herself quietly before looking out over the apartment complex.

She looked over the floor, scanning it like a hawk before spotting a bright yellow shirt and a head full of blonde hair before realizing who it was and opened the door.

“Marina, I think you should come see this!” she yelled and Marina shot up from her seat, heading out onto the balcony.

“What am I out here for?” she asked.

“Look with your eyes, woman!” Patricia bellowed, reaching her hand over the railing to point.

“Ay dios mio! Is that who I THINK IT IS?” Marina asked and looked to Patricia who just nodded.

“That’s Fernando fucking Torres,” Patricia mimicked and looked back.

“Make a noise! Make him look up here!” Marina complained, gripping Patricia’s arm tightly and shook her around gently before letting go, seemingly biting her fingernails nervously.

“Why don’t you go down there and talk to him, Marina? It would be good for you to be a little social once in a while,” Patricia commented, looking over at the girl who was practically shivering with excitement, who also peeked out of the corner of her eye at the other girl.

“That’s why!” Marina called, pointing back down to him.

Patricia looked, only to see Fernando greeting some other girl who stood much shorter than her. It seemed as though they were talking and laughing before he leaned down to kiss her cheek and hug her close to him. She took his hand in hers before disappearing into a stairwell opposite of their apartment.

“He has a girlfriend; of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn’t he have a girlfriend?” Marina uttered to herself.

So, Patricia seemed a little upset but she smiled and shrugged it off. She promised no matter what happened to any of the players, whether it is marriage, children, or something completely crazy, she would always support them, and she wanted everyone to live that way.

“Well, I’ve had my fill of excitement for today, and I have a headache, I’m going to head to bed, Marina. See you in the morning,” Patricia said before entering the apartment and headed to her room to flop on the bed.

She looked at the ceiling, her arms out to the sides of her.

“Oh Fernando, my life has been fulfilled,” Patricia said, a small smile on her face as she stared at the ceiling, replaying their prior meeting in her head over and over.

Meanwhile, in the apartment across the way, Fernando sat casually on the couch, a drink in his hand as he conversed with the woman who took his hand earlier, Marisa.

“Marisa, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. How’ve you been?” Fernando asked, setting his drink on the table and leaned back again, crossing his legs casually and set his arms out on the back of the couch.

“Same shit, different day,” Marisa laughed. “Taking care of Fernando is a lot of work, you know,” she said, bouncing her two year old son on her knee. Fernando smiled at the sight, he was truly happy for this child, he had such a great mother and a wonderful life, and he would grow up to do just fine.

“And, as I’m sure, you’re still getting child support from him?” Him being the father of the child, who was not Fernando.

Marisa couldn’t help but sigh, sigh a horrible sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if he gives us enough to get by,” she said and looked to Fernando. “He wants nothing to do with him, but since it is his child, he’s ordered by law to do so. He gives us as little as he’s allowed,” she added.

Fernando leaned forward. “You know if you need financial help, you can ask me, Marisa. You would if you really needed it, wouldn’t you?” he asked, looking at her sadly.

“I don’t want to burden you with our problems, Fernando. You know that,” Marisa said, dropping her gaze to her son who attempted to stick his hand in his mouth.

“You won’t burden me with anything. I want to help you, you’re my best friend, Marisa,” Fernando replied.

“I just don’t think it’s right for me to ask you for money when I’m getting money anyway.”

“You said he hardly gives you enough to get by! If you need just a little extra, I’ll help you. I want you two to be happy no matter what. With or without him,” he pushed, almost getting irritated with the typical Marisa attitude.

“Look.” She laughed slightly at the serious expression on Torres’ face, “You know I’m just being typical stubborn me. But if it really came down to it, you’d be the first person I’d ask for help, does that make you feel better?” she asked.

Fernando let out a deep sigh before nodding his head. “Yeah, I guess it does.”