Step by step

Winter was her favorite season. Well, not really. Autumn, maybe. She loved the colors, the cool breeze and cloudy days. But people thought winter was her favorite season, perhaps because she once said that snow was magical. She believed it, but winter wasn’t really her thing. People tend to assume things, even when you don’t really mean them. So she stopped talking. It was the most intelligent thing to do. Easier said than done. Words had always been her thing; they were reliable, something she thought couldn’t be misunderstood. Well, she was wrong. Words were words, and she understood them, but she didn’t understand people. And people were not that simple. She hated it. 

Breath in, breathe out. She had said that to herself so many times that the phrase was already recorded in her mind, as if she had traced the words with ink in front of her eyes, so she would never forget to do it. Running in an autumn morning, the cool breeze digging into her skin like needles, she thought there was nothing less romantic than the picture one would see as she jogged through the park. It was probably the most beautiful part of her route; big trees still covered with leaves that had taken a yellow and red tone and the peace of the artificial lagoon that mirrored the kids playing at the little bridge. But still, that day, she saw no beauty in the entire scene. All she would hear is yelling, the air just messing with her short hair and she felt tired. Why was it that people admired things like that? The dying trees as they made their way through the endless cycle they were trapped in, everything always the same. Humans were the only creatures on earth that would find beauty in weakness. Maybe they had no choice, that is what they lived with. After all, it was her favorite season, so fragile but fearless. But she would never tell that to anybody. 

She arrived at Gabriel's food truck. It was called: The Sandwitch, which was intended to be a joke, but made everybody believe that it was a simple typo. So pretty much every conversation she heard between Gabriel and his customers was something like: 

- The Sandwitch? Ha, bad spelling companies, am I right? 

- Actually, there is no mistake, you see… 

- Wait, you made that on purpose? I am so tired of people coming to the USA without knowing the language. Unbelievable. If I wasn’t in such a hurry, I would go eat somewhere where people actually tried. How much for two burritos? 

She had wanted to correct them on two facts:

1. Gabriel was born in the USA, so he did speak the language. 
2. Gabriel was the most hard working person she knew, not trying was definitely not a phrase she would use to describe him. 

But she had stopped talking, so she would watch in silence as she stretched how Gabriel would try to keep smiling as he cooked what must have been the best burritos in the world. 

But that day it was different. There was a girl her age on the line, eleven or twelve years old. She was small, but her confident pose made her look older and taller. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, with long brown hair tied in a bun and a sketchbook under her arm. There were people that would easily stand out in a crowd, and that girl was one of them. She didn’t notice her until she was almost in front of her, but once she did, she couldn’t stop staring at her. There was something about her… so strange and extraordinary. She didn’t like people like that girl, they were unpredictable, and hard to understand, but somehow that was okay with her. It seemed… comfortable. So she stared at her, wondering what made her want to eat a burrito at 7:00 on a cold Sunday morning. 

It happened for the next couple of days. She would be taking a morning run, and the girl would be there, as if she was waiting for her. Of course she wasn’t, but sometimes she would be so tempted to just talk to her that she would rehearse entire conversations in her head to approach the mysterious girl. But any time the girl stood up, or started walking anyway near her, she would start running again, scared of the possibility of having to actually talk to her. 

Until one day, when she was so lost in thoughts that she was caught off guard. She had gone jogging earlier than usual, trying to get away from the yelling that would drive her crazy. When she arrived at The Sandwitch, she didn’t start stretching as she always did. She just looked with her dark eyes at the few people that dared to go out in the cold of the morning, only a few days after a heavy rain that lasted for hours. 

- Hi. My name is Daphne. You know how our brains cannot create faces? Well, I like your hair, so I kinda drew you. Here.

She almost hit the girl (Daphne was her name, now she knew) as she approached from behind and touched her shoulder with a slight bump. Her heart was still beating strongly when she looked at her and gave a small nod. Why the hell would she nod? 

- If you want, we can burn it down, although it would be a shame; I have never drawn lips that actually look like a human body part. 

She finally took the sketchbook that Daphne was offering her, and looked into the colored yellow pages. It was beautiful. Probably not a masterpiece; the lips were kind of strange looking and some strokes were drawn in unnatural colors, but if you looked at it with different eyes, you could see the meaning behind every detail of the painting. The darker colors for her skin, eyes shining with mixed tones and shadowing perfectly done to make the painting, with all its weirdness and wild strokes, look more like her than her own reflection on the mirror ever did. 

- This is… It’s really pretty. You are… I mean your painting; it’s amazing. 

- Thanks. I guess we are not burning anything today, huh? 

She shook her head. Definitely not. 

- It’s weird, you know? All this. 

She had no idea what all this meant, but there was no way she was going to ask. It was comfortable that way, and she didn’t want to ruin it, so she stayed quiet for a while. 

- My name is Gianna by the way. 

Daphne smiled. 

Gianna didn’t know how friendships were made. Or when. For the next few weeks, they exchanged a couple of words, some looks and raised eyebrows. She was okay with that. It turned out to be much easier than she thought it would be, just letting everything be. But sometimes it would still be hard to know what to do, because after all, Daphne was still human, she was an actual person with whom Gianna would talk. So she made a list. 

How to make a friend: 

1. Learn about her. Talk about trivialities, what her hobbies are, maybe her favorite color (with Daphne it changes every week), and where she goes to school. Avoid family (it might get awkward) and pets (they might have died) and other sensible themes like politics. (Is she even interested in that kind of stuff? She is only eleven... ) 

The difficult thing about step number one, was that making a friendship was a two way street. Daphne liked to paint, she loved movies and biology, her favourite animal was the Axolotl and she loved lasagna (although her favourite meal was pizza, because after all, she was an eleven year old girl). Gianna was just… awkward. Every time Daphne asked her about anything, she would just immediately panic. Was there a correct answer for a simple question like what she did yesterday after school? Gianna couldn't know. Eventually, she ended up telling her about the dance lessons, the athletics team and her weird music taste. Gianna would never know where she got the courage to make such a huge step, but she was thankful for it. 

2. Get to trust her. 

She spent a lot of time thinking about what step number two would be. She was eating dinner while watching the news (her mother was working and her dad was nowhere to be found) when she realised how obvious the answer was. At the moment, she wished she never had. Trust means pain, she had learned that the hard way. She felt comfortable around Daphne, but trusting her was another thing. The extraordinary thing about her though, was that she helped. When people want you to trust them, they find a way of letting you know, of guiding you through the whole process. It got easier. Daphne told her about her dream to become a doctor and go to Italy (maybe because of the lasagna), about her fight with her little brother called Alex (something about Petrovsky, her fish pet), and everything about her crazy grandma who had died a few months ago. They started talking every night before going to bed. That's the beauty of friendship. Even while not seeing them, you can always think out loud around the people you love. Gianna had never experienced that, so the best moment of the day was when she was sitting on the emergency staircase outside of her room, looking at the old graffiti painted on the bricks and holding her phone in her left hand, talking with Daphne. 

3. Share. 

This ended up being the easiest part. At the park, Gianna learned to talk for hours and hours about this one olympic athlete she loved, eyes glowing with excitement as she rushed from one topic to another. Daphne didn’t mind, she listened until the last detail and never interrupted. Gianna told her about her school, about climate change and even about her family. All of her troubles. Everything. And Daphne was there for her. She shared her pain, and Daphne would be her friend. She shared her good moments, bad moments, weird moments, and Daphne was still there. Unlike anybody before. But then they grew up. 

4. Learn to forgive. 

It is weird how the best friendships can end up fading away out of nowhere. Just like that you end up being strangers with the person you trusted the most. They were fourteen when Daphne met this boy, and Gianna and her would talk for hours about him. They were fourteen when Gianna won the state athletics championship, and Daphne couldn’t be more proud. They were fifteen when Daphne and the boy started dating. They were fifteen when Gianna got in the elite dance team of her school. They were also fifteen, when they stopped talking. It wasn’t like they got mad at each other and broke the friendship they had so carefully built at once. Daphne wasn’t around that much anymore, Gianna wouldn’t be able to call her every night like they used to. Daphne was homeschooled, and Gianna had a job she had to take care of. Things just happened.

Gianna turned sixteen. She spent her birthday alone, listening to music as loud as possible in an attempt to silence the screaming and yelling that was coming from the other room, her window wide open trying to let the smell of alcohol go away. It was winter, and it was cold, but she didn’t care. That night, she didn’t sleep. She wasn’t scared of the dark, but for some reason, she couldn’t find the courage to turn off the lamp on her desk and go to bed. So she stayed awake, not sure of what to do. And then she heard a knock on the window, a hesitant cry for help. Daphne. 

- Oh my God, Daphne, are you okay? 

Gianna opened the window and let her freezing friend come in. The smell of cheap beer came in with her. Gianna flinched as she took a better look at Daphne. She wasn’t okay. Her hair was messy and her beautiful brown eyes were bloodshot, covered with a layer of tears. Her cheeks were red, her nose ran and she was trembling. 

Gianna led her into her bed, trying to ignore the fact that they hadn’t talken in years. 

- What happened? - She asked in a soft voice. Daphne looked away - Please, Daphne, you can trust me. 

Daphne burst into tears. 

- I am so sorry. I don’t know how, and why… I just… he was there and all his friends, and they started drinking and I… please, I don’t want to be drunk anymore, I hate it I hate it, please make it stop. I know I wasn’t a good friend, but please, I have nowhere else to go, I am so sorry Gianna, I am really sorry. 

Gianna remembered step number four from that old list she had made five years ago. It sounded so silly and stupid, learning to forgive when there was nothing to forgive for. Daphne might have been her best friend, but now… It would take time. 

5. Be patient. Always. It is gonna be difficult sometimes, it is gonna hurt, because she is also human, and you won’t always understand her. You are gonna fight, you might end up wanting to give up, but just like a dancer, you can’t just stop when you are in the middle of a jump. You might get hurt, but it will heal, just like a broken bone. With time.

So be patient. 

- Gianna! Where the hell is my blue shirt? 

- Under your yellow coat. 

- No, not that one, you know, the… Hey, are you okay? 

Gianna was staring at the window, suitcase still unpacked and clothes lying everywhere in her room. She watched the yellow cab on the street in front of her building, the driver sleeping in the front seat. There it was. 

- Hey. Hey, it’s gonna turn out just fine. You know, college is not the biggest deal. People overreact, it is not as hard as it seems. 

- But how am I supposed to… do everything? What if… it’s just that it looks so impossible. Everything. Not just college, but everything after it, and then…      

- That’s the beauty of life. You don’t have to do everything. There are plenty of people for that. Why do you think there are so many of us? Because we are perfect? 

- I don’t think I am brave enough to do it. 

- You know, my grandma used to say that it was easy for people with courage to do things, the brave ones were those who, even being afraid, would get through it. You are brave, and I am here with you. 

- Your grandma was crazy. 

- Maybe, but craziness comes with geanius. 

- I am not sure that is true. 

- Whatever, she was right, okay? I am proud of you. 

Gianna smiled a bit. She looked out the window again, the taxi driver had started the engine so the car wouldn’t freeze. 

- Did I ever tell you that my favourite season is autumn? 

- Like a million times. Come on, we gotta catch the flight. 

Daphne looked at Gianna and she understood. It was simple. She just had to go step by step.