If an artist could reproduce the shades of blue in the morning sky, and combine the basic colors to create other alternatives, that artist would be greatly surprised to find that the reflection of blue that swam in Alma's eyes was the same.
I looked in the mirror at her profile and I delighted in the auburn shades of her hair and her ivory face. I followed the fine curve of her neck, and as if she had felt the warmth of my gaze on her skin, she covered herself with her hand. I pulled myself together, almost swallowing my tongue, I was so eager to eliminate this burning desire.
I turned my head to the left without really seeing what was happening on the street. I always drive on instinct, I knew when I had to slow down because of police or radar traps. I did not worry, yet I reduced my speed to make the ride take longer.
The bright sunlight piercing the clouds dotted the sky with its bursts. I raised my head slightly and saw her look up too, like a signal. Her face beamed with pleasure. Since I did not want to leave her, I decided that from now on I would accompany her at the university in the morning and return when it was time to pick her up and take her home.
The car arrived too fast for my taste, in the street where the building was where she attended class. With her by my side, I forgot to put the car in the smart mode and the belts were detached automatically. She let out a startled cry and her hand tried to stop it, but when the doors were opened she looked over at me, bewildered. She didn't explain why, she just got out, agile, and walked with long strides.
I had to blend into the crowd at the university and in the street - so I could not walk too fast - but she would have to get used to my presence. I was walking beside her, watching for any sign that my closeness bothered her. On two occasions, her hand floated in my direction, but she held it there each time and then, mine rose to greet it. It was as if she wanted to touch me. My breathing quickened.
"Your Morgan really exists?" she asked.
"No," I admitted. "This, not really. It's a prototype - a concept car - useful for my work."
"I understand," she muttered, and I noticed bitterness in tone of her voice. She did not look up to see my smile.
"Oh! No! I can't believe it!" Vera's voice sounded.
Alma looked at me, puzzled, after having turned her head to the right, to the students sitting on benches, without finding her friend.
Soon we heard her again. "What has she done? I do not understand! Why?" The disarray in Vera's voice interrupted my thoughts. Vera talked on the phone, walking to and fro, under the gallery of the cafeteria, her bag on the floor and the phone glued to her ear. Her eyes were wide open with rage and her voice was a stream of unintelligible words.
Alma also noticed her a moment later and she blushed when she discerned Vera's expression while I read Vera's voracious thoughts.
"Vera! What's going on?" said Alma. She took the folder that Vera handed her while concentrating on her phone.
I owed it to her to be polite to her friends, true or not. So I greeted Vera. "Hello, Vera," I said with a smile.
Vera's eyes widened slightly on seeing me. It was weird and fun - and frankly a little embarrassing - to realize just how being close to Alma had turned me into someone nice.
"Hello," Vera muttered, putting a hand on her phone, her eyes fixed on Alma's face. "I think we should meet before the evaluation test," she whispered. Apparently, she was dying to know all the details, to review them one by one. A sigh escaped her lips.
Alma's mouth opened and words came out slowly. "If you want, but I don't see why."
"Later then!" Vera's hands fluttered to her bag and seized it; she went toward the entrance, taking a last furtive glance at us. I grinned, thinking of her reluctance.
Alma hung her head, murmuring: "What just happened? What's going on with her?"
I shook my head, trying to enlighten her.
"You don't understand? She had made too many illusions, and now she is disenchanted!"
"Hey!" she whispered fiercely. "She's my friend!"
"I know, that's why I think you should bring her back to earth! This kid will make her crazy."
She stared at me in surprise, trying to remember where she had heard that. She blushed, but did not dare to accuse me of having listened to their conversations on the street before the accident.
"Oh!"
We had thought the same thing at the same time!
"However," I said to change the discussion, "You can be sure, she will not spare you any details of their history and, in return, she will want you to tell her the same thing, I think."
Alma grinned and slid her bag to the front. I understood too late that she wanted to put her file inside and the bag, which was too bulky, fell to the ground with noise. I was so attracted by the expressions on her face that I was too slow to catch it. She lifted it and put it back on the shoulder, without looking at my outstretched hands. I frowned, and changed my expression before she noticed.
We arrived at the door to the building - I was supposed to leave then, as stipulated by our agreement. I wondered mechanically if Vera would be more accommodating after they spoke.
I concentrated on Alma. A strand of her hair fluttering in the gentle breeze of the morning touched my lips and brought out my breath. My jaw clenched. I took the strand cautiously and avoid touching her skin - this morning the sun colored her hair in a bright copper red - and replaced it in her messy mop of hair so that it did not distract me more.
She did not stop me! Maybe she wanted me to touch her.
Her beauty was incomparable! Her eyes opened slightly, the blood that flowed under her skin made her blush, and suddenly her heart was fluttering.
"It's so beautiful this morning," I said slowly. "Will you go to class?"
Her eyes were wide open - surprised and innocent. They were full of questions. She was not playing, I had taken her off guard. But her face saddened, bent down, and flushed.
A sigh escaped her lips and her voice was pained. "I have to," her mouth twisted into a grimace "The University is serious," she continued.
I inhaled her scent and I sighed in my turn, smiling. "Yes, apparently."
"And you?" She was always trying to make me say more than what I wanted.
I weighed my answer and hid my smile.
"I will go to work. I have to find an answer to my questions. Time is short. Well, I'm going! You must go to class, otherwise you will be late!" I turned quickly, before she asked me more questions. "I'll see you later!" I said with a glance over my shoulder to see if she was still staring.
On leaving, I was vaguely conscious of the ambiguity of the situation - eyes hopping between Alma and me. I gave little attention to her friends. I could not concentrate. It was difficult moving my feet at normal speed across the campus to my car which was waiting for me in the parking lot. I wanted to run - really run - so fast that I had the feeling of flying. Part of me was already flying.
I took off my jacket and threw it on the front seat, I began driving, breathing her scent which floated around me. I was going to let it overcome me, consume me. It would be easier to ignore it later, when she was mine...
I intended to go and ask some people about her childhood. I had decided to explore her past by my own means. I wanted to know from whence came this sadness, this detachment, as if having been hurt. Something she did not want to remember?
I thought of her, and her gaze followed me. If I was in her place today, the teachers would have found me confused, unprepared and unresolved. My mind was so dissipated this morning, only my body was in the car. Of course my mind watched jealously the last image of Alma. It became natural - almost automatic, like breathing. I imagined her conversation with Vera, who was completely demoralized. I laughed so hard that the car shuddered visibly and the pedal sank a little more, the speed increased and she left me.