Efímero | His Legacy | Formula 1

22. Between Us and Him

Turns out, Charles was right, and I am in fact dyslexic. Which is fine, I guess. At least now, I can tell people that they are ableist if they say anything related or non-related to my dyslexia. I'm just kidding.

One day, Charles got out of the car with me, but while I went to my classes he instead went to the principal's office. It was a short meeting which Charles doesn't want to tell me the details of it. But what is true is that just two days after that Monsiuer Da Silva left, and no one knew why, except for a few like me and Andre. Though, some did suspect the reason why, mostly the ones that were in my class that day.

It is February 12th, I have been here for more than a week, and I guess it has been fine. I got to bond more with my new friends. Specifically Lya, Emile, and Andre are the ones I am closer to, but I am still friends with the rest of the group.

In two days is my birthday, and I couldn't be angrier about it. Not only the fact that it is literally Valentine's Day almost all around the world but because I have always hated to celebrate my birthday. I don't get what people see as important in a birthday. It was just another day, just another yeat less you had left in this world, just another day and year of your insignificant existence. It is dumb, plus in the orphanage, we never got to celebrate our birthdays. Jules used to always do something special on my birthday, though since I was little, I already disliked my birthday, but he still tried his best. I guess a part of me still feels guilty because that day fifteen years ago, I took away the opportunity of a young woman to have great life and future because, technically speaking, I killed her. I don't feel bad for my mother dying. I feel bad for that young woman who had so many dreams ahead of her, and that because of a mistake, she was never able to reach her dreams before her end came. It just feels sad to celebrate that I was born at the expense of another life.

Back in Mexico, my friends knew about my issue with my birthday, so they didn't celebrate it. But I sense that Charles has something prepared for it, and I don't like that one bit. I already told him that there was no need to celebrate my birthday and that I didn't want to when he asked about it, but he is too stubborn sometimes.

Today, I have a therapist session for the third time with a different therapist than the past two times. So far, I have tried two different therapists which I haven't completely matched with which also makes me reach the conclusion that the problem might be me, but whatever.

We are on our way to her office, and Charles promised that after it we could have ice cream which might be the main reason I actually got out of bed. I haven't talked during the whole car ride.

"It will be okay. It is only an hour, and if you don't like her we can try another one," Charles tries to make me feel better which he definitely doesn't achieve. But I give him a 9 for the effort. I would give him a 10, but he only really said a sentence and didn't even look me directly in the eye. I know he is driving, but if he really wanted a 10 he could have found the way to look at me. We park in front a fancy apartment in Niza which makes me wonder how much money Charles is really spending on this single session.

I get out of the car without waiting for him. He runs to catch up with me and asks the receptionist for the floor and apartment number. I continue walking to the elevator and click the fifth floor. I bounce my leg nervously. When we get to the right apartment, Charles knocks on the door, and a lady in her mid-forties opens the door. She gives both a sweet smile which Charles reciprocates, but I don't.

She lets us in. "Hi, my name is Adelaine, but you can call me Addy," she says mostly directed at me. "You must be Axel. You can sit down right there."

She points towards a grey sofa that has a comfortable chair right in front of it. I do as she says while she whispers something to Charles. Immediately after, Charles comes to me.