Chapter Text
Imagine having every second of the day timed, that was Sheet's life. Literally, his alarm went off at five in the morning and, from that second, his head was already counting, classes, the report for the student council, running to his first job at the cafeteria, and from there to the night shift at the library. Crazy, he had no time for nonsense, nor for parties... and much less for Euro.
But of course, the universe apparently hated him, because Euro was there, every single blessed day.
Euro was that type of guy who seems to have the world at his feet, the type of guy he despised. His favorite pastime? Annoying Sheet. Well, Sheet and anyone who didn't wear designer clothes.
That Tuesday, things got out of control.
Sheet was at a table in the cafeteria, focused. He had his final physics notes spread out everywhere. Weeks of effort, suddenly... ¡bam!
Euro walked by with his group of friends, and accidentally on purpose bumped the table with his hip. Sheet's soup bowl ended up on top of his notes. The paper absorbed everything in less than three seconds.
Jedi and Matthew just started laughing and Euro just smiled with that superiority he hated so much, so much that it churned his stomach.
—Oops, sorry nerd, didn't see you. Since you're so invisible... —Euro said, crossing his arms.
At that instant something took over Sheet, it was like a click. Months of putting up with insults, accumulated exhaustion, stress... everything went to his head. He didn't think clearly, he just acted.
He took his glass of water and threw it directly in Euro's face.
The cafeteria went silent, his classmates stopped whatever they were doing to watch. Euro's hair was dripping, and his shirt was completely soaked. Matthew's mouth hung open and Jedi... well, Jedi already had his phone in hand recording.
Euro wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he didn't yell or insult him, on the contrary, he put on a cold, cynical smile as he leaned close to Sheet's ear.
—You just dug your own grave, president —he whispered before pulling away.
Sheet felt fear accumulate in his throat.
Jedi didn't waste any time, by the time the last class ended, the video was already everywhere. In class groups, on Instagram, on TikTok. The comments were merciless, ”¿The student council president turned out to be violent?”, “What a hypocrite”, “I hope they take away his scholarship for being a broke loser.”
Sheet walked through the hallways feeling his classmates' laughter, phones pointed at him discreetly. He felt the air leave him, everything he had built with so much effort, his reputation, his sleepless nights studying to be someone, was crumbling because of one second of frustration.
He clenched his teeth, grabbed his backpack and walked quickly toward the school parking lot. He knew exactly where to find him.
Euro was leaning against his sports car, with a clean, dry jacket, laughing at something Matthew was showing him on his phone. He looked so calm, so untouchable...
—Euro! —Sheet's shout stopped the laughter.
Euro turned, surprised, his smile faded a little upon seeing the state the president was in.
Sheet reached him, his chest heaving, his hands trembling so much he had to hide them. But the worst part were his eyes, they were completely red, with tears accumulated on the verge of spilling down his cheeks.
—Are you happy now? —Sheet asked, his voice breaking on the first word, and that made him hate himself even more—. Was this what you wanted? To humiliate me in front of everyone?
Euro fell silent, he hadn't expected this. One thing was to annoy the know-it-all nerd who always answered him with pride, and something very different was to see Sheet like this, completely broken, desperately trying to hold back his tears.
—Sheet, I... —Euro took a step forward, lowering his phone. His friends looked at him in surprise.
—Don't say anything! —Sheet shouted at him, and a tear rolled down his cheek—. You have no idea what it costs me to be here, you have no idea what I risk for a damn report. But of course, for you everything is a game because your pockets are full of money and there's no one to tell you you're hurting people. Did you have fun? Was it worth ruining me?
Euro opened his mouth, but the words didn't come out. He stared at him, frozen by guilt, impacted by the painful shine of those tearful eyes. For the first time in his life, Euro felt a horrible weight in his stomach. He wanted to reach out, wipe away that tear... but Sheet took a step back, turned around and ran off, wiping his face with his sweater sleeve.
When the next morning came, not even ten minutes had passed when the school speaker crackled, Sheet and Euro, report immediately to the principal's office. The principal, a woman with a severe gaze and a somewhat harsh personality, turned out to be none other than Euro's aunt. And she was furious, the video was already viral and tarnishing the school's image.
—This is unacceptable —the woman declared, slamming her hand on the desk—. Sheet, your behavior damages the council's reputation, I should suspend you right now. And you, Euro... —she looked at her nephew with displeasure—, your grades this term are an embarrassment to the family, your mother called from New York demanding solutions.
—Aunt, I don't want to... —Euro started, still dazed by what had happened in the parking lot. He didn't want to be near Sheet right now, he felt a strange sensation in his chest just remembering it.
—To you I am the principal, Euro! —she cut him off firmly—. And I'm not asking you, I've made a decision. Sheet, you're going to be Euro's tutor, you'll give him classes three times a week until his grades go up. If you refuse, I'll take away your scholarship and the recommendation letter for university effective immediately.
Sheet, who had swollen eyes and ragged breathing, nodded mechanically. He had no choice, he was cornered.
—And what about me? —Euro protested, crossing his arms, hiding his frustration—. I don't need this... him to give me classes, I don't want him in my house.
—Then deal with it, young man —his aunt snapped—. Either you study with him, or I tell your parents to cut off your card funds, the car, and send you to a military boarding school. Understood?
Euro glanced sideways at Sheet, the nerd didn't even move, he looked like a statue with his gaze lost somewhere in space, completely dimmed.
—Understood —Euro muttered, feeling a strange mix of rage, helplessness... and something that closely resembled regret.
It was done, they were forced to be together, dragging the pain of public humiliation and the echo of tears that Euro couldn't get out of his head.
Both Sheet and Euro had one thing clear, they didn't want to be seen together, their classmates didn't know what the punishment was and they preferred to keep it that way. That day they had the first session, each one arrived on their own. Sheet wasn't going to get into that sports car even if a storm broke out, he preferred to take two buses. His eyes were still irritated and his throat dry, but he forced himself to swallow his pride. He had to survive the tutoring hours, put up with Euro, save his scholarship and get out, nothing more.
When Sheet crossed the enormous gate of Euro's residence, he felt an immediate tightness in his chest. The house, which looked more like a mansion, was ridiculously large, modern style, cold, with immense walls and windows. It looked more like a luxury hotel than a home.
Everything about Euro and everything around him was so different from him.
Him, who only lived in a small apartment with his mother, who even had to work and help his mother pay the rent.
A service employee, a housekeeper with a kind but tired face, received him at the front door.
—Good afternoon, young Sheet? —she asked in a soft voice.
—Yes, good afternoon. I'm here for... Euro's classes.
—Come in, please, young Euro is waiting for you in the second floor library. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs in the kitchen, the gentleman and lady are not in the country.
Not in the country. Sheet held that phrase in his mind as he climbed the stairs, upon arriving at the library he found the door half open and pushed gently.
Euro was sitting in front of a table, his textbooks closed and stacked to one side, holding a glass of water with ice, swirling it in circles, watching them float. He was no longer wearing his high school uniform, he wore a black hoodie and comfortable pants. Euro looked... different.
Hearing Sheet's footsteps, Euro looked up abruptly, a flash of nervousness evident in his eyes, a hint of shyness that he quickly hid by clenching his jaw.
—You're late —Euro said, trying to use his usual arrogant tone, but his voice came out a little hoarse, lacking strength.
Sheet didn't respond, he walked directly to the other side of the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, keeping a prudent distance. He took out his things from his backpack, a notebook, a pencil and an eraser.
—We had an exam today and I had to stay to clean the council room, let's start —Sheet said, in a completely neutral voice, devoid of any emotion. It was the voice of a robot, and that made Euro feel some kind of discomfort.
The first two hours were dense and filled with a game of tensions where no one wanted to give in. Sheet explained the formulas from memory, tracing lines and numbers on a blank sheet. His tone was strictly professional, monotonous. But Euro couldn't concentrate, all he could do was look at Sheet's hands, thin and small hands, with fingers slightly stained with ink, and then he looked at his face.
Up close, Euro could notice things that the taunts he gave him at school had never let him see. Sheet had deep dark circles, he looked tired, painfully tired. A stinging feeling of guilt settled back in his stomach as he remembered Sheet's face struggling to hold back his tears.
—You're not paying attention —Sheet suddenly said, stopping his pencil mid-equation. He raised his eyes and fixed his icy gaze on Euro—. If you're going to make me waste my time, let me know, I'll tell your aunt that you're not putting in your part and to suspend me right away. At least that way I'll get my sleep hours back.
Euro frowned, feeling cornered by his own pride.
—I am paying attention! —he retorted, raising his voice a little—. It's just that... you explain too fast, not everyone is a nerd.
—I'm not a nerd, Euro —Sheet said, his voice faltering, letting out a hint of that melancholy he'd been holding inside—. I study because if I don't, I won't have a future, I don't have parents who can buy me everything, so do the damn exercise.
Silence returned, but this time it was a crushing silence.
Euro stared fixedly at the exercise on the paper. He knew he'd been an idiot, but seeing Sheet's vulnerability and courage, all mixed together, made something inside him soften.
—Sorry —Euro whispered, so low that the sound almost got lost in the immensity of the room.
Sheet tensed, moved his head slightly, as if he hadn't heard correctly.
—What did you say?
—I said sorry, are you deaf? —Euro said, crossing his arms and looking away toward the window, where the sky was already tinting a dark, nostalgic gray—. About the video... and about the soup, it was wrong. Jedi's an idiot for recording it and I... I shouldn't have let it happen.
Sheet stared at him for a few long seconds, searching in Euro's eyes for any sign of mockery, any trap, a hidden laugh. But he found nothing.
However, the damage was already done and Sheet's pain was still alive.
—Keep your apologies Euro, they're useless to me —Sheet declared, picking up the pencil again—. Solve problem five, we have forty minutes left.
Euro didn't protest, he took the pen and, with his eyes fixed on the paper and his heart beating at a strange, accelerated rhythm, he began to write.
Two weeks passed and things hadn't changed much. Sheet arrived at Euro's house at five o'clock sharp in the afternoon. He didn't greet anyone unless strictly necessary, he went up the stairs and sat on the same side of the table. Euro was already waiting there, sometimes with his uniform half-unbuttoned, sometimes with his eyes fixed on the window, but always with a lost gaze.
They didn't talk about anything other than school. No how was your day?, no what a drag history class was, nothing. The air in the library remained so dense that the silence was almost unbearable.
—Check this —Euro said one afternoon, sliding a sheet toward the center of the table. His tone was flat, dry, unconsciously imitating Sheet's coldness.
Sheet took the paper without his fingers brushing Euro's. He took out his pen and began to review the problem's procedure. Silence settled between them, broken only by the scratching of the pen and the sound of rain hitting the windows.
Euro leaned back in his chair, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Without realizing it, one day he began to analyze Sheet, he noticed that afternoon Sheet was wearing a different sweater, a navy blue one that was a bit big on him, he also noticed that Sheet wouldn't stop moving his left foot under the table, and he also noticed the small cuts on his fingers.
—It's fine —Sheet said, setting the pen down on the table—. The balancing of the equation is correct, looks like you're finally using your head for something useful.
Euro felt a sting in his pride, but swallowed the words he wanted to say to him. At another time, he would have answered with an insult, but seeing Sheet there, spending his energy after a full day of school and work, held him back.
—I'm not an idiot, Sheet, I just... didn't care before —Euro replied, looking away toward his own notes.
—I wouldn't care either if I had my life figured out —Sheet commented with a hint of bitterness in his voice, putting his pen back in its case—. But some of us aren't that lucky, as you can understand. By the way, tomorrow is the partial exam, if you fail, my head will roll along with yours. So go over all your notes again.
Sheet stood up, walked around the table and quickly began putting his things in his backpack, he wanted to leave. The atmosphere of that house suffocated him, not because of the luxury, but because of the overwhelming lack of life that breathed in every corner, it was so... lonely.
—Are you leaving already? —Euro asked suddenly, standing up as well. His voice sounded a bit more hurried than usual, breaking through his facade of arrogance and disinterest for a second.
Sheet stopped with his backpack half-closed and looked at him with a frown, distrustful and surprised.
—My hour ended ten minutes ago, Euro, I have to start my shift at the library in half an hour, not all of us have a driver.
Euro clenched his fists at the sides of his pants, the thought of offering to drive him crossed his mind, he wanted to tell his driver to prepare the car, but he knew perfectly well that Sheet wouldn't accept. The distance between their worlds was so great that Euro didn't know how to start tearing down the walls that separated them.
And above all, he didn't know why he wanted to help him, he didn't understand why he felt interest in someone like him.
—Whatever —Euro muttered, resuming his rigid posture—. Good luck getting to your job.
Sheet said nothing more, slung his backpack over his shoulder, turned his back and left the room. The echo of his footsteps faded down the stairs until the heavy thud of the front door closing was heard.
Euro was left alone in the immensity of the room, he looked at the empty space where Sheet had been sitting for the last two hours, the table felt strangely large now. He walked to the window and saw Sheet's thin silhouette walking under the rain, covering his head with his sweater hood, hurrying toward the bus stop.
Until then, he was unfamiliar with that kind of longing. A strange tightness closed his chest, accompanied by the silent desire for friday to come as soon as possible to see those charming, tired eyes in front of him again.
The day of the exam had arrived. For Sheet, the atmosphere at the high school wasn't much different. Although the video was no longer the novelty of the day, the whispers were still there, floating through the hallways. He simply walked with his gaze fixed ahead, ignoring everything around him, with his headphones on even though he wasn't listening to anything. He just wished he could become invisible until he reached the classroom.
When he entered the room, Euro's group was already there.
Jedi and Matthew were sitting on the benches in the back, laughing at some video on their phones. Euro, on the other hand, was sitting properly, with his back straight and his gaze fixed on the whiteboard. His eyes were slightly narrowed, with a bored expression, but Sheet, who already knew his tics by heart, noticed that Euro was tapping the floor rapidly with the tip of his shoe, he was anxious.
As he passed by their row to go to his seat at the front, Sheet didn't look at him, however, Euro looked up right at that second. It was a brush of glances of barely a blink, cold and distant, as if in the afternoons they didn't share the same space.
—Let's see if the time you wasted with the nerd was worth anything, buddy —Matthew said to Euro loudly, making sure Sheet heard as he settled into his seat—. Because if you fail, your aunt is going to kill you.
Euro didn't laugh, he didn't even look at Matthew, he just took a pen out of his backpack —Shut up Matthew, let me review this —Euro muttered in a serious tone, opening his notebook.
Sheet, from his seat at the front, began to review his notes, hearing Euro's friend call him the nerd didn't surprise him, but he felt a familiar pang in his stomach. The harsh reality always came back to remind him that apologies meant nothing once they crossed the residence's door. At school, Euro was still the rich, spoiled boy with a reputation to maintain, and he was still the nerd and the target of mockery.
The teacher entered the room and silence took over the place. For the next two hours, only the scratching of paper and the ticking of the clock could be heard.
Sheet finished his exam first, as usual, he handed in his paper and, as he walked back to his desk to collect his things, he couldn't help but glance toward Euro's spot. Euro was concentrated, frowning and resting his chin on his left hand. Sheet recognized the movement of his hand and the constant motion of his leg, he was very nervous. But then, he could see his face relax and he began to write.
A strange feeling, a mix of relief and something akin to contained pride, crossed Sheet's chest. Not because of Euro, he told himself, but because his scholarship was safe if that idiot didn't fail.
At dismissal time, the courtyard was complete chaos, all the students were celebrating the end of that week's partial exams. Sheet walked toward the main exit, carrying his backpack, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.
—Sheet! —Euro's voice sounded loud right behind him.
Sheet stopped short near the back courtyard stairs, a slightly more student-free area. He turned slowly, crossing his arms, adopting his usual defensive posture. Euro stopped a meter away from him, he came alone.
—What do you want, Euro? If it's about the tutoring, today is Friday, we'll see each other at five, you don't have to talk to me here.
Euro seemed to swallow his words, he looked around, making sure no one was watching them closely, and then fixed his eyes on Sheet's.
Euro no longer had the arrogant look he always wore at school, he looked... tired, and strangely sincere.
—I just wanted to tell you that... I think I did well —Euro said, scratching the back of his neck with some shyness, a gesture completely foreign to his daily personality—. The exercises were exactly as you explained them to me.
Sheet watched him in silence, the cold wind moving both their hair. Seeing Euro there, seeking his approval in such a subtle way, made the ice around Sheet's heart crack a little, but the memory of Matthew laughing in the classroom and Euro saying nothing to defend him kept him from softening.
—I'm glad for my scholarship, Euro —Sheet replied, his voice a little softer, but keeping his distance—. But remember what we agreed, at school, you're with your friends and I'm with my business, don't mix things up.
Euro clenched his jaw, and for a second, Sheet thought he saw a flash of pain in his eyes.
—I'm not mixing anything —Euro lied, taking a step back and shoving his hands in his jacket pockets—. Just... I'll see you at five, don't be late.
Euro turned around and walked back toward the parking lot, where his friends were already calling him from afar. Sheet stood still on the stairs, watching Euro's silhouette disappear among the crowd of people. Feeling, for some reason he couldn't understand, a little more alone than usual.
At five o'clock sharp in the afternoon, Sheet was already crossing the door of the room, the atmosphere felt different than at school. Outside, a storm seemed to be brewing, beginning to tint the room in a deep, nostalgic blue.
Euro was already sitting in his place, this time he wasn't playing with his phone, he had a lost gaze while holding a steaming cup of tea and, right across from Sheet's seat, one for him.
Sheet stopped for a second before pulling out the chair, he looked at the cup and then at Euro.
—Is this some kind of joke? —Sheet asked, in his usual icy tone, pointing at the cup with his chin.
Euro looked up, a little startled, cleared his throat and immediately looked away toward his notes, feeling his cheeks burn slightly.
—It's tea, I thought maybe you'd want something hot because of the cold, after all you walk from the bus stop —Euro muttered, trying to sound uninterested—. If you don't want to drink it, it doesn't matter.
Sheet fell silent, sat down slowly, placed his backpack on the floor and, after hesitating for a moment, took the cup and took a small sip. The tea was perfectly delicious, he didn't say thank you, but the simple fact that he didn't reject it made Euro visibly relax his shoulders.
—Take out your physics sheets —Sheet ordered, opening his own notebook—. Even if you did well in chemistry, we can't get overconfident, the next exam is in two weeks and the syllabus is twice as long.
—Aren't you going to ask how I did on the final grade? —Euro interrupted, stopping Sheet's hand before he turned the page of his book. The brush of their fingers was barely a millisecond, but both felt a kind of electric current that made them pull away quickly.
Sheet cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses to hide it.
—You said at school you did well, I assume you passed.
Euro smiled sideways, a seemingly sincere smile that completely lit up his eyes. He took a folded sheet from his pocket and slid it across the table, it had an 85 marked in red on the top corner.
—My aunt couldn't believe it —Euro said, and for a moment he sounded like a little kid seeking approval—. She told me that if I kept this up, my mom would give me another card.
Sheet looked at the number, an 85 wasn't a big deal for someone who always got 100, but knowing where Euro came from, someone who left exams blank, it was almost a miracle. He felt a strange warmth spreading in his chest, but he immediately repressed it, he couldn't afford to soften.
—It's progress —Sheet admitted, returning the sheet to him—. But physics is more complicated, if you don't understand it you're out, so pay attention.
The next hours passed at a more fluid pace, Euro still complained from time to time, because he found it hard to understand and got bored, but he no longer tried to ruin the class. On the contrary, he made an effort to keep up with the other person's pace.
Halfway through the class, the rain finally came down hard, a loud thunder was heard, making the library windows vibrate slightly. The ceiling light flickered a couple of times until it went out completely, leaving them in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the grayish light coming through the window.
—Great, just what we needed —Sheet complained, letting out a frustrated sigh. He tried to turn on his phone screen to light up the sheet, but the battery flickered at 2% and the phone died in his hand.
—Wait, don't move —Euro said.
Sheet heard Euro's footsteps move away in the darkness and, a few minutes later, return. A small circle of warm light began to dispel the shadows. Euro brought two candles on a ceramic plate and placed them in the center of the table.
The candlelight completely changed the atmosphere, the immense, cold space seemed to shrink, becoming small, intimate. Shadows danced on the walls, and the sound of rain pounding against the glass created a barrier that seemed to isolate them completely from the rest of the world.
Sheet stared at the candle flame, suddenly feeling very aware of Euro's closeness. He could hear his breathing just inches away.
—Why do you hate me so much, Sheet? —Euro asked out of nowhere, his voice sounding extremely low, stripped of any trace of arrogance.
Sheet looked away from the fire and found Euro's eyes, which shone under the flickering candlelight. They looked dark, deep and full of a melancholy that Sheet never expected to find in the boy who had ruined his school life.
The question hung in the air, suspended between the candlelight and the sound of the rain. Sheet stared fixedly at the candle flame, the golden light casting soft shadows under his eyes, making him look even more tired than usual.
He adjusted his glasses slowly, buying time, he didn't want to answer, he didn't want to open that door.
—I don't hate you, Euro —he said at last, his voice softer than usual—. I don't have the time or the energy to hate you, but how do you expect me to talk to you after how you treated me all those months? You made fun of me, you made my life impossible.
Euro shifted uncomfortably in his chair, resting his elbows on the table, the candlelight illuminating half his face, where Sheet could see a grimace of surprise.
—So why do you treat me like I don't exist? —Euro insisted, in a tone that no longer had anger, but a kind of subtle plea, almost childish—. I know I was an idiot those months, with the soup and the video. I already apologized for that, but before that... you always looked at me like I was the worst thing in the world.
Sheet let out a bitter laugh, one that didn't reach his eyes, he set his pencil down on the notebook and crossed his arms, fixing his gaze directly into Euro's eyes.
—Do you really want to know? —Sheet leaned forward a little, breaking the distance—. I treat you that way because for you, life is a game, you come to school to show off your things, to laugh with your friends and to trample on others just because you can, because you know that if you break something, your dad's wallet will fix it.
Euro opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sheet stopped him by raising a hand.
—Let me finish, you ask me why I look at you that way. I break my back studying, I work in two places where they pay me peanuts and I put up with your daily mockery just to maintain an average that will allow me to get out of where I live. And out of nowhere, you come along, ruin weeks of my work, record it to get clicks on the internet and almost get my scholarship taken away. And you're surprised I don't want to be your friend, Euro? You were about to destroy my future for pure fun. That's what bothers me, your damn indifference toward other people's lives.
The silence that followed was different.
Euro lowered his gaze to his own hands, which rested on the table. Sheet's words had left him speechless, he wanted to tell him that his life wasn't perfect either, that he hated living in that house, that his parents preferred to send him money rather than spend a birthday with him... but he stayed quiet. He knew that complaining about his loneliness in front of someone who was fighting for a future would sound ridiculous, almost offensive.
—I didn't think it was that serious —Euro whispered, his eyes fixed on the table—. For me... it was just a way to pass the time, I didn't want to ruin your life, really.
Sheet watched him for a long while, the candlelight flickered, threatening to go out from a draft that slipped through the window. Seeing Euro like this, with slumped shoulders and a muted voice, made something inside Sheet give way. The image of the mean, arrogant boy was crumbling, revealing someone very immature, yes, but also strangely fragile.
—Well, now you know —Sheet said, lowering his voice, returning to his usual neutrality—. Open the book to page seventy-two, the candlelight is bad, but at least we can review the theory before it gets later.
Euro nodded in silence, took his book and began to turn the pages slowly. He didn't try to talk anymore, nor did he seek Sheet's gaze. He concentrated on reading, noting down every word the president dictated in that measured voice that, little by little, was beginning to become the only sound Euro wanted to hear.
The following weeks passed with the same slowness with which autumn leaves fell.
However, in that immense library, something had changed, neither of them admitted it out loud, both their prides were too high a wall. The sessions no longer felt like a punishment or obligation, but rather a strange refuge in the middle of their chaotic lives.
Euro began to change, it wasn't a drastic change, but his small gestures spoke for him.
One Tuesday afternoon, when the cold was too intense, Sheet arrived at the residence shivering, with the tip of his nose red and his hands numb from having waited for the bus for twenty minutes in the wind. He sat in his usual place and, before he could take out his first notebook, the housekeeper entered with a tray.
She brought a steaming bowl of soup, and a cup of hot chocolate.
Sheet stared at the tray, confused. He looked at the woman and then at Euro, who was strangely concentrated reviewing his book, even though he had the book upside down.
—I didn't order this —Sheet said, his voice a little hoarse from the cold.
—Young Euro gave instructions to prepare something hot for you upon your arrival, young Sheet —the woman explained with a kind smile before withdrawing.
The library fell into that silence that was becoming customary for them. Sheet looked at Euro, expecting to see that mocking smile or some sarcastic comment about him, but Euro didn't laugh. He smoothed his hair, a little nervous, and cleared his throat without looking up from the book.
—It's hard to study if you're freezing —Euro said, in his usual low tone, although his fingers fidgeted restlessly with the pen—. Eat something, I don't want you to faint here and my aunt think I'm exploiting you.
Sheet swallowed, feeling a strange warmth that had nothing to do with the house's heating, he took the spoon and tried the soup; it was delicious. Eating something hot after such a heavy day felt like a hug.
—Thank you —Sheet whispered, it was the first time he used that word in that house, with him.
Euro looked up abruptly, their eyes met, and for a second, the distance seemed to close completely. Euro sketched a tiny smile, almost imperceptible, but full of genuine satisfaction.
—You're welcome, president —he replied in a low voice.
From that day on, things flowed differently. Euro became a somewhat dedicated student. Not because he was passionate about physics or chemistry, but because he realized that, when he answered an exercise correctly, Sheet's face relaxed and a small line of pride appeared on his lips. Euro lived to see that.
At school, however, the theater continued. In front of Jedi and Matthew, Euro remained the group leader, the untouchable boy who mocked the high school's strict rules. Sheet passed by him in the hallways and acted as if Euro were a ghost, that was the deal. Two parallel lives that only crossed paths when the sun set and the library lights came on.
But keeping up appearances was becoming difficult for Euro. Every time Matthew made a derogatory comment about the council nerd, Euro felt a pang of guilt and an irrational urge to punch him. He was holding back, accumulating a tension that sooner or later was going to explode.
One night, almost at the end of the study session, Sheet was putting away his pencils. It was already late, past seven.
—Euro —Sheet called, stopping before closing his backpack.
—What's up?
—Your grades... they're already at a stable level, you went up to an 88 on the last physics exam. I think... I think you don't need as many hours anymore. We could reduce it to once a week.
Euro felt a horrible lurch in his stomach, panic hit him head-on. Reducing the sessions meant being alone more time again, it meant losing the few hours of the day when someone paid attention to him, when he felt useful, when he didn't have to pretend to be someone else.
—No —Euro said too quickly, standing up abruptly.
Sheet looked at him, surprised by such a sudden reaction.
—No what? You're already safe from failing, Euro, your aunt is satisfied.
Euro walked toward him, stopping right at the edge of the table, breaking all the distance they had built. His eyes reflected a desperation that Sheet had never seen in him.
—I don't want to reduce the sessions, Sheet, I'm not ready. I still don't understand the last topics well and... and I don't want you to stop coming.
Sheet froze in his seat, Euro's closeness made him feel overwhelmed, he could smell his cologne, he could see the slight tremor in his lips. At that moment, the library seemed to become tiny, and Sheet's heart began to beat at a dangerously fast pace.