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They didn’t let her talk, but mostly because she hadn’t tried yet.
Hugo: Jellyfish Cove on Mondays.
Adrián: True. She always comes back full of stings on Mondays. Tuesdays and Wednesdays they go out with their bikes or skateboards.
Marcos: Thursdays they go to the beach.
Finally, Priscila reacted. “They’ve been following us! The nerve!” she exclaimed to Alex, the conversation over the phone continuing without her.
River: Today is Wednesday.
Adrián: That’s why I’m asking where she is. The bike and the skateboard are both here.
Priscila hissed; she didn’t want to hear any more. She waved it away, letting Alex know it was nothing, and turned her phone off.
They resumed their ascent under the squawking seagulls, their breathing becoming labored, each step harder than the previous one, until they reached the complicated part: the tunnel dug into the mountain. There, the talk, the laughter and the stolen kisses came to an end; this stretch of the climb was all slippery rocks and uneven ground. It required total concentration.
They made use of the ropes attached to the stone walls—Alex first, looking back every so often to check that Priscila was okay. They emerged from the tunnel and continued their climb, taking care not to slip.
As they neared the top of the Rock, barely a few feet away, their hearts began to beat wildly. The wind stirred their clothes—Alex’s loose tank top more than Priscila’s—washing over their bodies.
The first thing they did when they reached the peak was link their hands together and raise their arms in victory.
The second, sit down on the rocks and enjoy the views and the sensations.
They were silent for a few minutes until Alex suggested sandwiches.
They ate surrounded by the sounds of the sixty species of birds that could be seen from up there, the singing of the cicadas, and the sun warming their skin.
Still angry at her brothers and their newfound passion for espionage, Priscila still hadn’t turned her phone on by the time they were on their way home.
“Do you want to get rid of them?” Alex asked as they were about to arrive.
“What are you thinking?”
“Tomorrow, the usual time, at my garage. I’ll wait for you there.”
“Okay.”
They kissed and parted ways.
The next morning, when Priscila arrived as agreed, Alex was already waiting for her on a motorcycle, a helmet in each hand. It was an old turquoise Vespino and the girl loved it the second she laid her eyes on it. She jumped behind her neighbor and put on her helmet, and off they went. But first, Alex asked her, “Where to?”
Priscila brought her mouth close to the boy’s ear. “Take me to Neverland,” she whispered.
“First star to the right?”
“Let’s take a risk and turn at the second one.”
“Consider it done.”
Alex drove carefully while they were in the residential area, but as soon as they hit the open road... they flew.
They flew all day, riding miles and miles with Priscila gripping Alex’s waist and his hand on her knee.
They ate a paella in a remote town the name of which they didn’t even know.
They dozed, wrapped in each other, sheltered under the shade of a tree in the middle of nowhere.
