Chapter 5. A Monument to Beauty

By Benicio

The other day when we got together with our friends for Hugo’s birthday, Omar showed up with his girlfriend. I’d seen her from a distance once before and thought she was very pretty, but that day, when I had the chance to meet her, I realized that calling her “very pretty” didn’t do her justice—she was truly a monument to beauty.

No girl had ever impressed me so much with her beauty, and that idiot Omar—he spent the whole time doing drugs. I don’t know what they’re taking, but it makes them get all worked up. As soon as he snorted it the first time, he wanted to have sex right there, in front of everyone—he couldn’t even control himself.

They went to the bathroom because the girl insisted they weren’t going to do it just anywhere.

From outside, in the hallway, you could hear their moans—even that girl’s voice was totally arousing.

I’ve never gotten involved with any of my friends’ girlfriends.

I wasn’t planning to do it now either, but I couldn’t help but look at her, and the more I looked at her, the more I felt that the desire she stirred in me was hard to hide.

At one point, I lost control of my feelings and walked up to her just to whisper in her ear that she was beautiful.

It was just as they were leaving; she hurried off because they’d started doing drugs again.

They’re my friends and I love them dearly, but they’re really making a big mistake by doing so many drugs.

Omar was a little drunk, plus the drugs—he wasn’t in any condition to drive, let alone a motorcycle. I asked him if I could do it, and he called me a prude. I don’t do drugs, but I’m not a prude.

They’re two different things.

It bothered me that, with such a beauty by his side, he didn’t look out for her; you could tell she was younger than the rest of us—most of us were between 24 and 26 years old.

Omar was my friend, but he was also my second cousin; he was the son of one of my father’s cousins.

My father and Omar’s father were partners in the law firm.

I decided to study to become an accountant; I liked numbers better, and anyway, there were already two accountants working at the firm.

Omar started studying law, but he was way too into going out, hanging around, and doing drugs. He was a little more than halfway through his degree; at that point, he was on track to graduate at 27 or 28. If he’d put in a little effort, he could have finished in two years, but I didn’t see him making any effort at all.

I had graduated as an accountant at age 22, just before turning 23. My uncle always held me up as an example, and that really annoyed my cousin and even created some tension between us.

I asked him to stop comparing us; I explained that doing so wouldn’t get Omar to study more and that it only made him angry with me.

I’d talked to Omar many times about stopping his drug use; up until then, it was something he did only very occasionally. But when we were on vacation in Punta del Este and went out with some girls, I felt bad that he’d cheated on his girlfriend, and at that time he was using drugs much more often than usual—he was going along with Hugo and Liam. Liam is the one who uses drugs the most.

Everyone else is more laid-back.

Sometimes some girls would join us at birthdays or the parties we used to throw—two of whom do drugs just as much as Liam.

Jazmín was doing drugs, and I don’t know what got into her—she’d try to have sex with anyone, though generally the first person she’d go after was Omar.

I hadn’t slept with Jazmín—I found her really off-putting. It’s not that she was ugly, but I really didn’t like her at all.

Omar seemed genuinely in love with Evelyn—that’s the name of the girl he introduces as his girlfriend.

I found out she was younger than us when I asked her age.

I took advantage of a moment when Omar and the others were doing drugs.

Even though she’s only 18, she’s really level-headed. When I spoke to her with double entendres, she was telling me about the careers she wanted to pursue, and I wanted to rush her.

She got nervous.

I’m making her uncomfortable, and I think she realized she’s driving me crazy.

I really like her a lot.

Omar shows up and kisses her without a care in the world.

Evelyn is uncomfortable, but they end up going to my cousin’s bedroom.

I’m feeling the same way Omar must feel about me when his father holds me up as an example.

I wanted to tell her to break up with him, that he’s a loser, that I’ll treat her better—like a princess.

Then I think about it for two seconds and realize I really can’t say anything to her—they’ve been dating for five months; they must be comfortable with each other and in love.

It bothers me to think that, and I can’t believe that this girl—so beautiful, so delicate—is with Omar. He’s an attractive man; I know that because whenever we go out, he always ends up with some pretty girl in his arms. Plus, he knows how to talk his way into getting the woman he wants.

But Evelyn is so much more than just a pretty girl; she’s one of those women who take your breath away, who captivate you and hold you spellbound forever.

She’s the kind of woman you dream of having.

I understand she’s off-limits.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since I met her.

She’s like a poem, a rose without thorns—I don’t know how to describe her, but she’s got me captivated.

Omar keeps chatting and laughing with his friends.

She baked him a cake, and when I told her I was jealous because Omar was getting all her attention, she told me he was her boyfriend.

By now, she must have realized that I’m looking at her with an uncontrollable and completely undisguised desire.

When we finished singing “Happy Birthday” to him, Evelyn was the first to congratulate him.

At one point, Jazmín came over and greeted him with a kiss on the mouth; Omar returned it but immediately looked at his girlfriend, apologizing to her and telling her he loved her—right in front of everyone.

Evelyn went to the kitchen and Omar followed her; they argued, though not very loudly—I know because I didn’t take my eyes off him all night.

My cousin is an idiot—between the kiss he returned to Jazmín, all the alcohol he drank, and the times he snorted drugs tonight, he was losing the beauty right by his side.

He doesn’t realize what kind of woman he has as his girlfriend.

Around five in the morning, after spending a long time glued to her cell phone—and pretty much tuned out from what was going on around her—Evelyn grabs her coat and purse and heads for the door, without stopping to say goodbye to Omar.

I tell her that if she leaves, Omar might end up in bed with Jazmín; she tells me that’s more than she can bear.

I’d already thought of that.

She says goodbye, but I won’t let her go.

“You can’t go alone at this hour.”

“I’ll order an Uber,

” she says confidently. “I can’t

let that happen—I’ll drive you.”

I had to insist before she finally agreed.

She takes one last look at Omar, who was hugging Jazmín again—or rather, letting himself be hugged; at this point, it was all the same.

Evelyn could barely hide how upset she was.

The elevator arrived, and once inside, I hugged her as if to cheer her up.

I regretted it the very next second.

I could barely control the feelings she stirred in me.

She leaned against my chest—her lips were right at my mouth—and I felt her vulnerability; I wanted to comfort her.

Luckily, it was only three floors; otherwise, I might have done something crazy.

My car was parked in the building’s garage.

I opened the door of my Audi for her.

She barely glanced at the car and got in shyly.

On the way, I asked her where she worked; I wanted to take some of the drama out of what she was surely feeling. She seemed to perk up and told me enthusiastically about her job and, with even more enthusiasm, about her mother’s business.

I was glad that, even though she was just starting out in life, so to speak, she hadn’t let Omar sway her when it came to drugs.

We arrived at her house in twenty minutes.

The ride was way too short—I wanted more time with her.

I didn’t turn off the car’s engine; it was cold outside, and the car was warm inside.

I told her that, aside from being friends, Omar and I were second cousins, and that our parents work together and we work with them, too.

“I realized you two were close because the other day you were the only one who told him he wasn’t in any condition to ride the motorcycle, even though he answered you rudely.”

“Yeah, sometimes I have to talk to him to get him to stop drinking or doing drugs. Today he was worse than ever—he’d never been that high before, ever.” “I really

can’t handle that situation, and I don’t want to get any more involved with him.”“Are you going to break up with

him?

” I asked, astonished, and waited anxiously for her answer. “Possibly

, although I think that even though he tells me all the time that he loves me, after tonight, he’s going to stay with the girl who was by his side all night.” “No

, tomorrow when he wakes up, he’s going to want to kill himself when he realizes he left you alone all night to be with Jazmín and her friends, doing drugs.”

“I don’t think it’ll be like that.” “Do you

love him?

” I don’t know why, but my voice was almost trembling. “I’m kind of fond of him

; he’s sweet…” “You

deserve something else—someone who’s there for you at all times, who respects you, who…”

I couldn’t go on because, as I spoke to her, my eyes got lost in her mouth; I was already imagining a thousand things.

I moved closer to her to brush against her a little more.

I was losing control.

My hands cupped her face, and I sought out her mouth.