In Bed Page #4

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I'm going to f*** him. "

You said that?

Yes.

Bird face?

Yes.

What about the synchrony,

God, the taxi that got late?

Just bullshit? You said,

"I'll f*** the bird face guy. "

Yes.

- And it was you who f***ed me?

- Yes.

Sure. I never f***ed you.

No.

I mean,

the world revolves around you.

- Yep.

- Huh, sh*t!

And if I told you I asked a friend,

"Man, who's the babe

with the big tits"?

- Big tits?

- Yeah.

"I'm going to f*** her. "

What would you say?

That you were a typical man.

Did you see my scar?

My appendicitis operation.

I was on a high school trip

to Bariloche.

I started feeling terrible,

but nobody cared.

They took me to the hospital.

It's sort of heavy at a hospital

when it's not your country.

I made friends

with an Argentine girl my age.

She had had an abortion.

They had removed her womb.

While my classmates

were dancing and having fun,

I was talking with that girl

about her rapist father.

See the scar here?

A car crash, with my dad.

The brakes got broken.

It was an old car.

Once dad knew

that the car wouldn't stop,

he protected me with his arm and

crashed the car against the sidewalk.

We hit a pillar.

But he saved me.

I never felt that he loved me.

But then I knew.

I always thought

that he loved my brother best.

Why so?

I don't know.

Maybe because he had

all his attention.

And you visit your old man often?

No.

Is he like you?

I guess so.

He's cute then.

He doesn't have a bird face.

You are cute.

You don't have a bird face.

My old man

has this heart condition.

Something's blocked over there.

He'll die any minute.

I'm always saying,

"This weekend I'll visit him. "

But somehow I never go.

It's unavoidable.

All I hope for is that

when the moment comes,

he will go swiftly, at once.

With no pain, no agony,

no intensive care unit.

Dad dreads hospitals.

It's telephone time.

Hello.

Yeah. No.

No, I'm not alone.

With some friends.

Yes.

Okay, tomorrow at lunch time.

Try to sleep.

Yes, you can. Try to.

No, you don't know them.

From the masters.

Yeah, okay. Bye.

Want one?

Thanks.

Don't you want to know

who that was?

No.

Okay, who was it?

That was my ex.

In a panic rush.

She doesn't want me to leave.

That's why she called?

She wanted to know

whom I was with.

And whom were you with?

Friends.

She's got problems.

Sure, she calls you at 5:OO a. m.

She's got an obsession

with calories.

Every time she eats something

she counts calories.

She even thinks we ended

because she was fat.

Did she throw up in the shower?

What?

Did you catch her vomiting?

No.

Why?

You do that?

I had bulimia once.

At least I think so.

About three years ago.

- What did you do?

- Vomit.

Vomit.

You eat something,

then you throw up.

My boyfriend used to take me

to fast food places.

Hamburgers, pizza and such.

And I threw up later.

I must have puked

in every bathroom of every mall.

And every bathroom

in every friend's house.

I was an expert at vomiting.

The best way is in the shower.

She doesn't vomit,

but counts calories compulsively.

- And she's fat?

- Yes. No. I don't know.

- That's not the point.

- What's the point?

That I can't stop feeling

responsible for her situation.

But you're not.

Sounds hard,

but she's not your problem anymore.

She is.

So are you.

Everyone that's related to us

is our problem.

I mean, if you call me tomorrow

asking for help,

I would have to give it to you.

Wouldn't you do the same?

That could drive you crazy.

We relate with lots of people

every day.

You can't take responsibility

for everything.

You have to know when to cut ties.

I'm also a calorie expert.

Do you know

what's the most caloric snack?

An ice cream.

A Swiss Chocolate ice cream.

That's 550 calories.

You know how many calories

a banana has?

No.

You know how many calories

are burnt when you make love?

- No.

- 550 calories.

You mean, then,

you eat an ice cream...

And f*** right after.

How many ice creams

did you have today?

Four.

We better do something about that.

- Otherwise you'll get fat.

- Yep.

You'll have to give me your e-mail.

...inviting you

to the wedding ceremony

of Daniela and Rodrigo

on Friday the 23rd.

- I haven't lost yet.

- What?

I haven't stepped on the floor.

The world hasn't come to an end.

So you don't have a boyfriend.

No.

Why are we doing this?

What?

Talking.

As if we wanted to know each other.

As if there was a future.

And if I told you I like you a lot

and asked you to come with me?

You'd never say that.

And if I did?

Don't do this.

It's not funny.

Are you happy, Daniela?

I really don't want to go into that.

- I want to know.

- What for?

Just to know.

To know what?

To know who you are.

And what would we get?

You're leaving.

I'm staying.

What would you get by knowing

my grandmother's name

or if I never felt lonely,

or if someone gave me a watch?

What for?

We are not knowing each other.

We're not dating.

We're not going anywhere.

I can't tell you the story of my life

in an hour.

We came here.

I don't know why, but we did.

We had a good time.

Now we'll leave.

You were a break

before the rest of my life.

And I was the adventure

before your trip.

We are nothing to each other.

We were nothing.

And we'll never be more.

So stop asking if I'm happy.

That's really none of your business.

I don't want to know

anything else about you.

When I was seven,

my brother got lost.

I don't want to know.

He got lost in a supermarket.

My Mom went frantic

looking for him.

A lot of people gathered by.

I saw an increasing number

of people searching.

He was never found.

For years I woke up believing

he'd be outside the house.

That he would be back.

I'll tell you something

that nobody knows.

While I was surrounded

by chaos,

in that crowd of people

searching everywhere,

I saw him.

He was outside.

On the street.

Alone.

And I froze.

I knew I had to say,

"There he is!

He's outside! Over there!"

For everything

to come back to normal.

For God to exist.

So Mom would smile again.

So the episode would turn

into a supermarket anecdote,

instead of a threshold to darkness.

But I didn't.

I remained silent.

I closed my eyes.

And never said a word to anyone.

It's okay.

Why do you tell me this?

Because I won't

ever see you again.

I'm getting married.

This Friday.

Tomorrow's my bachelorette party.

Don't drink too much.

Want to know

the presents that I got?

The most useless:

A machine to make ravioli.

The most useful...

Luchita, the maid of the house,

gave me a set of kitchen cloths.

She embroidered them herself.

She's been by my side

since I was born.

Why are you getting married?

He loves me.

I love him.

We have plans.

And the bad side?

He's got a bad temper.

How bad?

Very bad.

What? Does he...?

A couple of times.

Within five years.

What happened?

The first time, he broke my rib.

We broke up.

After that, he started treatment.

I thought that everything was fine,

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