Another school year has passed. They are both fourteen (Rener is just three months his elder) and this meeting on the staircase that goes to the teachers’ car park has not been prearranged. Donato’s face is turned towards the alcove framed with very light quartz stones with a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in one of the far corners and is still stunned at the news that Rener will be leaving Brazil in eighteen days’ time and, along with her parents, will be going back to live in France. Stop being such a hick, Curumim. You’ll learn to get by on your own, she says. He turns his face towards her. I know how to get by, Rener. It’s just, I … I kind of … I’m going to miss you, I’m really going to miss you a lot. She responds with a melancholy smile. This whole time we’ve balanced each other out, haven’t we? He nods. You’ve helped me not to become the school’s walking freak show. She looks grateful. And you’ve given me grief to keep me from becoming the local Naomi Campbell, she says, her lips quivering. Exactly, he says. Rener’s eyes fill with water. Don’t worry, I’ll be all right … There’s only two more years. They both know two years is too long. But pay attention, Donato, drying the tears that are flowing down her cheeks, it’s time for you to learn how to play the game better. He frowns. Better than I play now, Brown Sugar? I’m a complete goody-goody, I always do everything just right. She gives his shoulder a gentle shove. That’s not what I’m talking about. Being like that is only going to open doors for you in the future, she says. So what are you talking about, then? She looks down. About how blind you are to things that are going on around you … your naivety, your passivity, your … leaning her elbow on her knees and clasping her hands together in front of her. Leaving this school, getting far away from you, it’s going to be a relief. I’m sorry to be telling you … almost in a whisper. But what … he tries to interrupt her. She doesn’t let him. I’m sorry to be telling you like this. Really, I’m just sad and I’m taking it out on you … still in a low voice. Rener, Rener, Rener … She lifts her head and looks at him. Look, Curumim … Since the first day of pre-school I’ve liked you … And that feeling of affection has taken so many different shapes, in so many ways, that sometimes I’ve doubted whether it really exists. Even my girlfriends … I swear on my life, I never told anybody a thing … even they know I’ve always liked you … and they know I’ve always protected you … Or do you think you escaped from being one of the school punchbags because you’ve got nice eyes? Hmph! Anyone messing with you would have to mess with me … You even called me Mônica for a bit, like in the comics, remember? she says. I used to get furious, didn’t I? He agrees. And she gives him another gentle shove. How many times did I make English Douglas ask you to play football with them at break time … I’d even insist that you had to play up front, never in goal. Donato considers telling her about the poems he wrote for her, but instead says: the older guys always did like you.