I nod to Caio (since he doesn’t have the power of deciphering my mom’s looks), and the two of us head into the living room together. We sit on the small couch, and he touches my leg with his.
“I miss you already,” he says softly, staring at the floor.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Caio,” I answer, and give his knee a little squeeze.
We go silent, trying to hear what our moms are saying. It’s not a very difficult task; it’s not like I live in a mansion. The kitchen is right there, and Caio’s mom is a loud talker. It’s almost as if we never left.
“Again, Rita. Thank you so much for having my son over. Mauro insisted I should leave him by himself, but you’re a mother, too. You know I would never forgive myself if something happened to him while I was far away,” Sandra explains.
“It wasn’t a problem. He was no trouble at all. Caio is a very good kid,” my mom says.
“Ah, I have no doubt about that,” Sandra says, full of pride. “The problem is bad influences, you know what I mean? One invite to a party here, then he starts spending the night over there. And then drinking, drugs …”
Caio laughs quietly, and I can visualize my mom doing her best not to roll her eyes.
“Caio seems to be surrounded by wonderful people. Friends that he loves very much,” my mom says, voice firm.
“I know. Mauro and I love our son more than anything in the world. But we can’t watch our children all the time, can we? And sometimes that’s scary, isn’t it?”
“Look, Sandra, I only had Caio over here for fifteen days. But it was enough to get to know how amazing he is. You must be very proud to have a son like him,” my mom responds, her voice a little louder now.
“I am. I couldn’t be prouder.”
And Caio’s face opens up in a smile, and he squeezes my hand.
“I told you so,” I whisper so only he can hear.
I spend the whole day looking for things to do. Things to distract me from how different the house looks now that Caio isn’t around. Ultimately, I decide to start putting my vacation plans into action. The ones I had before Caio showed up.
I catch up with my TV shows, bingeing several episodes nonstop. I organize my books and designate a few for donation. I get lost in absurd thoughts about what the future holds, coming up with theories that make me anxious and desperate. The usual.
I feel like telling Caio everything about my day, even though I know nothing extraordinary has happened. But when I pick up my phone to text him, I realize I don’t have his number. After fifteen days. After some (several) kisses. After this whole story. I don’t even have the guy’s number.
Of course, that’s not a problem, because the internet is a thing. I go to each one of his social media accounts, which for a long time I used to browse like a creepy stalker, and finally add Caio. One at a time, I click all the follow and add buttons, until he becomes a part of my online life as well.
Now all I need to do is wait until he follows me back.
And the anticipation is killing me.
I stare anxiously at my phone screen every time it buzzes (and also when it doesn’t), but it’s never anything from Caio. It’s always a notification from a game I don’t play anymore, some email with a promotion from an online store, or my great-aunt Lourdes tagging me in a Facebook post, which, by the way, has happened twice in the last hour. My sixty-four-year-old great-aunt tagged me in two posts in the last sixty minutes (a photo with the caption “Have a blessed weekend” and a soufflé recipe with the caption “Show this to your mom xoxo”). And in that same period of time, Caio hasn’t even had time to click accept on my friend request.
When my phone buzzes again and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to block my great-aunt, I’m surprised by a text from an unknown number:
I got your number from Becky!
I stare at the phone screen like a goof, not knowing what to say. Which is nothing new.
I’m afraid I’ll seem too needy, or too clingy, or too dramatic. Just to be sure, I send a reply that makes me sound like all three:
Felipe:
Now I’m the one who already misses you.
Caio:
And *I’m* the one who’s dramatic.
Felipe:
How’re things over there?
Caio:
Hard.
My parents just showed me photos from their trip.
All 1,245 of them.
I’m not joking.
There really are 1,245.
My dad connected the memory card to the TV.
And now there’s kind of a penguin slideshow going on
Felipe:
So fun!!!!
Caio:
You’re ridiculous
Felipe:
And what was the surprise your mom had for you?
Caio replies with a selfie of him wearing a Chilean hat, with the little strings coming down his ears and tied together under his chin. He is the cutest thing ever to inhabit the received folder in my phone.
Caio:
This was the surprise.
A hat!!!
Felipe:
You look so good in it. But I’m a little disappointed in your mom because I expected it would at least be a penguin hat!
Caio:
There are more than enough penguins in this house already.
And then he sends me a photo of a fridge with a huge collection of stuffed penguins on top. I didn’t even know it was possible to put so many penguins on top of one single refrigerator. There’s an additional shelf above the main collection that holds another collection of smaller penguins. And the fridge door is covered in penguin magnets. It’s a little creepy, to be honest.
Caio:
I present to you:
My fridge!!!!
Hahahaha
Felipe:
Very modern.
Caio:
That’s my family.
Sorry!!!
But you have to accept it!
Felipe:
I’ll accept them. I might have a hard time accepting you pressing enter all the time instead of keeping it all in one single message, though.
Caio:
RIDICU
LOUS
!!!!
The day goes by as Caio and I text. The sad feeling of having said goodbye fades a bit every time I remember that he’s literally only an elevator ride away. I feel like getting into said elevator and inviting him to go to the supermarket with me, take a walk around the square, or anything, really. Just so we can be together for a little while longer. I think this is the answer Google couldn’t provide when I asked how to tell if I was in love.