More laughter ensued and eventually mystery hands pulled me up off the floor and took the toque off my head. When I finally was able to see, I saw Angel being helped up by Antonio and I was in Mateo’s hands.

Everyone was laughing but in his eyes I saw genuine concern.

“Are you all right?” he asked, inspecting me closely. His hand went to my lower back and I nearly froze at the contact. I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me.

I told him I was fine and apologized to Angel before I went scampering to the back row to sit with my group. Luckily, no one said anything about the fact that I nearly took out the entire first row of the audience. Or anything other than that.

As the next group went up, I tried to gain control of my racing heart. I felt totally out of sorts and I was ready for this day to be over. I hated that there really was nothing going on between Mateo and I, yet I was spooked and acting like there was. It didn’t help that people were fucking commenting on it, like it was so damn obvious. There was nothing to be obvious about.

I buried my head in my hands. I needed to get a grip. I really would have thought my crush would have worn itself off after a week but it was only growing, like a bloodthirsty monster and now it was crawling out of my head and heart and taking swipes at other people, letting them know it existed.

“Are you okay?” I heard Beatriz say from beside me, putting a light hand on my shoulder. “Did you get hurt?”

Not yet, I thought. But I will.

I looked up at her and managed a weak smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.” I liked Beatriz enough but I didn’t want to discuss anything personal with her. That said, it did get me thinking that I should discuss something with someone. I’d talked to Josh briefly on the phone already and I’d been back and forth with Jocelyn on Facebook but the way the computers were set-up, I felt like I couldn’t really type anything without people looking over my shoulder. There was always my phone, but I spent a gazillion dollars already on receiving that phone call from Josh.

Claudia or Becca. I needed to talk to one of them. They would understand. Becca was probably head over heels for someone, given her track record, and I could have sworn something was going on with Claudia and Eduardo.

I laughed internally, thinking how unlike me it was to seek council on a guy, let alone have actual feelings for them. That was not my style. Then again, none of this was. The minute I stepped on that bus, everything I knew about myself seemed to be left behind in Madrid.

The next day—day seven of the program—was the first rainy day of the program and the end of the first official week. Only two people had been scheduled just for one week, Yolanda and Enrique, so two more Spaniards were supposed to join us after they left on the morning bus back home.

It was weird to see Las Palabras under a thick layer of soot-colored cloud, to have shallow puddles at your feet. It dampened everything and put my thoughts on a melancholy spin. For the first time, I kind of missed home. Well, actually that was an exaggeration. I didn’t miss home, the rain just reminded me of home. Home meant a place where I couldn’t be myself, where I had to walk on eggshells around my mother. But I missed Josh. And there was part of me that missed being free from…emotional turmoil. Was that the right word? How about sexual frustration and the threat of impending heartache? I couldn’t tell. The rain had dampened my mood.

I had a mostly Mateo-free day—I didn’t have any sessions with him and I didn’t sit with him at any of the meals. Jerry had started cracking down on groups, noticing that the same people kept sitting together and insisted we all start rotating. It was fine with me, except lunch time had me sitting with Tyler, who I realized had some kind of thing with Lauren. I couldn’t really figure out his sexuality—his “Vote for Hilary” shirt and My Little Pony obsession didn’t help—but I knew he and her shared very similar disdain for me.

After lunch, which pretty much consisted of shoving ham in my mouth and getting the fuck out of there, two more Spaniards arrived—Mario the small business owner and Alfonso the financial consultant—and we all welcomed them in. It couldn’t have been easy coming into a program a week in, when everyone already seemed extremely close and cliquey. The passage of time only made me realize that Mateo would be gone in two weeks.

The tiniest part of me felt relief at that, that I could just be me, have fun, and not have my feelings occupied by another. But the larger part, the one that consisted of my skin and bones, it felt sunken in at the thought, eaten away. I felt like my life without him would definitely start lacking vitality, that the spring in my step would disappear, that the butterflies in my stomach would vanish. That I wouldn’t feel…whole.

And that was such a fucked up feeling.

I tried to find Claudia or Becca after dinner. I needed to speak to them. The wine, which I had grown to love, was coursing through my veins, making my mouth loose and my heart pound. I wanted to tell them, to just get it off my chest, to feel like I wasn’t crazy, that I wasn’t a terrible person for crushing on a married man, that I wasn’t a villain.

I ended up finding Mateo instead. There were a group of people outside on the patio, sitting on the wicker chairs and playing cards. The extracurricular activities were called off for the night because the plays had taken so much planning, so the bar was open and everyone was pretty much free to their own devices.

Mateo was there, laughing loudly with Wayne. Both of their cheeks were spotted with red. They were drunk already, and I remembered during dinner that both of them had gone around to all the tables and collected the bottles of wine that weren’t empty, like hooligans at a wedding reception.

Angel, Sammy, Becca, Eduardo, Manuel, Ricardo, Polly and Froggy Carlos were all there, drinks in hand. The rain had stopped and the air had turned wet with humidity rising off of the grass. The sky was growing clearer by the moment, the clouds skirting past the bright gibbous moon.

“Vera!” Wayne shouted at me. “You Canadians play soccer, right?”

I couldn’t help but eye Mateo with suspicion. “Yes, some do. Why?”

“We’re going to have a soccer match next week, the Anglos versus the Spaniards.” He jerked a fat thumb at Mateo. “I’m going to pretend to be a Spaniard, just to be on his team.”

I pulled up a wicker chair and hunkered down. “Sounds like fun, but count me out.”

“Aw, come on Vera,” Sammy complained loudly. “If I’m doing it, you’re doing it. Your legs are so much longer than mine.”

That may have been true but having longer legs just meant more opportunities to trip over them.

“Your legs are as long,” Froggy Carlos said to her with a lusty wink, “if you play with those sexy heels on.”

Sammy laughed and squealed at his remark and I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. I very briefly caught Mateo’s gaze.

He got up and stopped by my chair, resting his fingertips on my shoulder. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I just sat down,” I moaned.

“You have to work for it.”

I wanted to say no. But I couldn’t. I looked up at him, at his dark, glittering eyes and felt myself rise out of my seat and follow him into the bar. I guessed talking to Claudia or Becca could wait another day. It was a nice idea, anyway.

We walked past a few people who were on the computers and over to the bar. I leaned against it, my fingers resting on the cool copper top while Mateo ordered us two beers. His body was pressed right to the side of mine and I could feel the heat between us, the firmness of his waist and hips against me.