The rest of lunch is uneventful. Eva and Carlos just tell Moritz about the theatre department, the upcoming auditions, why they love musical theatre and they finally invite him to watch them rehearse. Moritz seems truly happy, and Alex is not surprised: his friends are the best thing in his life.

While the rest are doing their thing, Alex mostly keeps to the margins, catching the German smiling his way from time to time, while he nods politely. Nothing to write home about. 

After a while, Alex leaves for class, thinking that will be it for the day.

He is, of course, wrong.

As soon as Alex is out of his Literature Seminar, he needs to unlock his phone. The damned thing had been vibrating non stop since he entered the classroom, what the hell had happened?

+52 1 81 1431 2603 - has been added to the group

Alex didn’t need me to say who had been added, he just read on.

Prince Charmander

🎼wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome!🎶

Angela and the Tangy Minj

Um, who is the new one?

+52 1 81 1431 2603

Oh, hi! Nice to meet you, my name is Moritz.

And you are?

Angela and the Tangy Minj

Oh, the German?

Hello tormentor of my bestie, prepare to be vanquished

sent image

+52 1 81 1431 2603

💥

I guess nobody expects the Daleks

La “Eva-siva” Acosta

or the spanish inquisition

Prince Charmander

or stds 😂

Angela and the Tangy Minj

When it comes to you, we do expect them, Charles.  

In the hour and a half he had spent in the class, he had received a whopping two hundred and fifty notifications. Ridiculous.

Eva had wasted no time. When Alex was leaving for class he had told her “Fine, I’ll take the bait” and made Eva insufferably happy. It had been mere seconds after that when she decided that the German was going to be a permanently adopted.

What he didn’t understand was… how did Angela know? She was in New York and he had not spoken to her this week, they only spoke Saturdays for their regular conference call. Had Eva told her?

Yes. Indeed she had.

With a growl, Alex picks up the phone and opens a private chat.

Alex

How much did Eva tell you?

Angela and the Tangy Minj

My favorite psychic strikes again!

She sent a pic yesterday and said he was a ✨suitor✨

He is hot. Eva approves, Carlos approves, I approve, so… GET IT!

Alex

Wait, she got you BOTH into this?

Who said I wanted to get it anyway?!

Angela and the Tangy Minj

Alejandro: it’s been a year and half.

We are just a worried, ok?

I know how much stress you are under

You need some 🍆💦

Alex

ANGELA!!! 

Angela and the Tangy Minj

Alex, I know how you feel about "distractions"

And I know your greatest love is your calendar (besides me, of course)

But live a little, dear, come on!

Talk to you Saturday! 💖

Betrayal all around. “Even from you,” Alex thinks, expecting the narration to work as some kind of oracle voice, as if it wasn't limited to only saying things as the story went along. He knew this, and he had stalled it enough for information to never come out. It’s hard to obtain a narrative reaction from something the protagonist refuses to interacts with.

“Shut up.” he murmurs as his phone vibrates again.

+52 1 81 1431 2603

Hello!

Um, I am on the way to Political Marketing

There’s a 2x1 on coffee, want one?

The nerve of this ridiculous overgrown labrador to message him directly! He said no flirting. And in his mind coffee is flirting. But then he remembers the cafeteria and what he told Eva. He hates his need to follow through with projects.

Alex

I have no money

+52 1 81 1431 2603

I’m inviting 😊

Wasn’t it implied? 😅

Alex

Just sayin’

+52 1 81 1431 2603

What’s your order?

This is how Alex ends up holding a cold brew with two dashes of cream and three spoonfuls of brown sugar, getting a lot of stares from the class and hearing a German humming “Heartlines” from Florence and the Machine behind him as the class starts. All in the name of a free caffeination. That’s what he says to himself.

***

The class ends quickly enough. Since Mr. Lopez’ likes debates and using a lot of video examples, the class is pretty fluid and fun, even when analyzing how marketing had merged with politics. 

Alex is picking up his notebook when he hears the cough behind him.

“This was your last class, right?” Alex nods. “Where are you headed?”

“I take the north exit. The one with the arch? I have to walk a fair bit… around the bus station? Do you know Corregidora?” he says. Moritz keeps staring. Waiting. “Where are you headed?”

“A bit further… by the pharmacy?” he offers.

“Del Ahorro?” Moritz nods at that. Alex tries to keeps his tone and face as neutral as possible. “Ok. So… wanna walk home together? Is that it?”

“If it’s all the same to you,” he is trying be neutral as well, and failing... spectacularly.

Alex sighs. He promised himself he’d go through with this.

“Fine.”

And so they go.

The walk is not particularly chill. Summer is the season where nights die on, with the sun straying up way past 8 p.m. and leaving everyone sweaty. The pro of this comes in the sunsets: they last an eternity and look beautiful, and they look even more beautiful at the university. The school is built on a mountain so, from almost any part of it, you can see most of the valley of Monterrey, all covered in yellow, pink, orange and gold. Alex can complain about a lot of things when it comes to his university, but he’d never deny it has one of the best views in town.

They go past the parking lot, through the security gate and walk all the way to the top of the entrance, one of the high points of the school. It is usually filled up with cars rushing to leave students on the drop off or running late for the high school facility of the uni, but right now it is quiet and lazy. When they pass the rails of the exit, Moritz stops a bit to stare. 

“I’ve been taking the bus to come and go so far,” he says. Alex assumes, he means a small bus that goes through whole upper street of the mountain (Alfonso Reyes) and picks up the students along the way. It’s one of the few buses issued directly from the university. “Maybe I should walk more. It is beautiful. Right?”

Alex turns to see the city as well.

It is well known Monterrey’s pollution is hell. Breathing here is basically stewing in toxic waste, more so being an industrial city, with little room for walking, trees constantly being cut down to make space for condos, and cars making up for the majority of what you see in the street. He wouldn’t say Monterrey is the peak of urbanism, as a pedestrian he has always resented the city a bit. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t love it.

Whenever he can stand at high spots of the city, he enjoys taking it all in. And where he stands right now, it is a wonderful view: El Cerro de la Silla, a staple of the city, covered in clouds, all pink, purple, yellow and cream; the green of the mountains slowly meshing with the silver and white of town; elaborate buildings rising as far as the eyes can go; and just feeling the hustle and bustle of town rising with sounds from all over. How can he say the city is not beautiful? It is better than that. It is alive.

“It has its charm,” is all he says, with a faint smile that appears on the corner of his mouth. Moritz sees it. The poor fool immediately wants to kiss it. Kiss him.

And that shakes Alex back to reality.

“Let’s go,” his tone shakes Moritz back to reality as well.

They walk in silence, moving past the mall that lies next to the university (a godsend for all foreigners and those living alone), the horrible crossing that is Jimenez and Alfonso Reyes (the amount of accidents Alex has seen there is ridiculous), passing the two pantheons (one for the rich and one for the humble) on opposing sides of the street, and the several convenience stores on the way.

It is a quick walk. Fifteen to twenty minutes tops, but it feels much longer. More so because Alex has been scrutinizing Moritz the whole way.

He sees how the sun hits his hair and reveals the specks of brown and red trapped in each curl; he realizes that his profile reminds him of those greek statues his father likes so much; he notices how he is never upright, his back always hunched a little and throwing his weight behind, and he chuckles at the fact that he’s constantly tipping his glasses back in place, because the bridge of his nose sends them tipping to the right sometimes. He sees a lot, in too little time, and he wonders if Angela and Eva are right and he should just get it over with.

Alex’s sees Corregidora, his street, just a block away, and he is wondering if he wants to do something about it when Moritz suddenly stops.

They are standing on the “red balcony”, as Alex likes to call it. It has a name of its own but Alex has never bothered to learn it. The place had been an institutional project during mayoral elections, and had been completely remodeled to earn clout with the community there. The place had been once a drab gray expense and now was all covered in red tiles that made it pop from the rest of the gray and white of the street. Underneath, they had painted the houses in bright colors and added beautiful cobblestones to the streets. The people tend to have loud music or play football on the streets. It was like a small portion of Guanajuato had been grafted into Monterrey and filled it with color. Alex had gotten used to its charm, but he remembered when, a few years back, he’d still stay perched to the balcony that connected the street with the bustle underneath to just watch.

Moritz reminded him of those moments right now.

Alex stands next to the German and places his hands on the stone of the balcony, seeing below as well. The kids are playing football, as usual.

“I imagined Mexico would be more like this,” Moritz says.

“Did we disappoint? Not enough sand and sepia for you? Need more narcos and Guelaguetza?” Alex chimes. Moritz stares at him a second and the man chuckles heartily.

His eyes go down to the kids and he lets out a sigh.

“I like what I’ve seen. It’s just... “ Alex sees him bite his index finger a bit. “It is not what I imagined. Monterrey, I mean. I have been only three weeks now and it feels more like the U.S.A. than Mexico. Down to some people at the uni. I just imagined Mexico would be... warmer. Like today at lunch.”

Alex knows what he means, he never quite got used to it, but he is always too busy to actually busy himself with those thoughts.

“You are an exchange. You’ll have a lot of trips. They always go to Mexico City around September,” Alex says, “you know, Independence Day and all that. You’ll see a lot of Mexico soon enough, Mr. Foreigner.”

Moritz turns to see him directly, his eyes are intense, the light around them bringing gold out of the hazel on them.

“I guess nothing is quite as you expect it, huh?” he smiles.

Alex remains very still. If he is going to do it, he has to do it now.

“You don’t know me,” he says.

“No,” the German responds. “But I want to.”

“I can’t offer you what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want… yet. Except that it needs a strong foundation.”

“What does that even…? Never mind,” Alex says. He cuts the distance between them. “You just said today you didn’t want someone to jump all over you. I won’t do that. I can’t do that. We don’t know each other and I don’t know why you have... imprinted on me or whatever, but I can’t offer what I think you are looking for.”

"Are you so convinced?"

"I never bet on someone that can leave."

"That could be anyone."

"Exactly."

Moritz is silent. His expression unreadable and his body still. He is imposing, all kinds of beautiful and otherworldly on this twilight sun. If someone were to take a picture of him now, he’d look like a god coming to pass judgement on a mortal; which honestly makes Alex all kinds of mad as he hears it.

Then the fake god smiles.

“Ok. For now… I just need a friend. Is that ok?” he extends a hand.

Alex wants to know what he’s getting himself into. All I can say is, he is honest. The man is irredeemably and inexplicably infatuated with him but, right now, he wants nothing more than a friend. To be his friend.

Alex takes a breathe. Wondering. I have to remind him all will be well.

“If you so much as wink my way, make a weird pass at me or try to whisper in my ear something that is not uni related, I will kick you in the groin,” Alex says taking his hand. “Begrudging friends, pinche güero.”

“Friends,” Moritz says with a smile. Something pans inside of Alex as he hears the word and he doesn’t know what it is. He lets go of the German immediately.

“I said begrudging... you are a weird one,” he mutters turning to the view once more.

“We're perfect for each other, then,” Moritz answers with a chuckle.

“What did I say about flirting?”

“Just a joke!”

They stay quiet for a bit, both looking into the distance trying to find god knows what. In the end Alex lets out a deep sigh and tells Moritz he is going. The German says bye and Alex feels his eyes follow him all the way to the end of the block.

As he goes down the street he wonders why he is so happy and pissed at the same time.