All This Has Nothing To Do With Me by Monica Sabolo

Author:Monica Sabolo [Sabolo, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781447274988
Publisher: Picador

ANXIETY

Message written by Monica for Ambra’s birthday, October 1979.

‘happy birthday mummy,

doing the howswork for mummys birthday

hurying to finish the birthday kake

dont tell anywon your age even if your 29

nowing that she wont like her prezent

I love you lots.’

Booklet created by Monica, 1979.

MONICA (PART 2)

By 1984, Monica had still not kissed another boy. She was around twenty centimetres shorter than the other girls in her class, who wore mascara and looked as though they had progressed to a superior stage in life. They moved around in groups, pulled together by secret signals indicating their membership of a particular tribe of initiates. They flirted with the male species and mastered the secret protocols: Brazilian bracelets, cigarettes in the toilets, cascades of hair rolled up in a band. Monica watched them pass her in the corridors with a feeling of ashamed underdevelopment, a sense of having been betrayed by nature. In the space of several months, they had lost their cheeks and sprouted like tropical plants, while her body was fossilized in a prehistoric stage of evolution, deprived of the attributes which promised to unlock interesting prospects, such as the mixing of saliva or fingers sliding between shirt buttons.

She was sometimes invited to parties, where she moved around cautiously, doing her utmost to appear relaxed and unconcerned by her solitude. She would daringly follow the flow of boys to where they smoked at the bedroom windows, but they were indifferent and wandered away.

It was during one of these lively ordeals that she got to know Lyonel, who, as well as perpetually sweating like a bucket, suffered from a growth impediment.

He was the shape of a sickly child, but his face seemed to have reached an advanced hormonal stage. He had dark rings under his eyes betraying a renal dysfunction, and hair that gleamed like the coat of an aquatic mammal. This surprising dichotomy between his size and the surge of testosterone exuded by his body had a disastrous effect on his social life. Whenever he came close to members of the female sex, they escaped like a flutter of butterflies, sentencing him to evolve on the periphery of existence. It was there, in the wings of the world, stuck at a dining room table adorned with bottles of Oasis, that he suggested smoking a cigarette. Monica cast a suspicious glance at his synthetic black shirt, hesitated, then followed him into the bathroom, which now seemed to have established itself definitively as the scene of all profanation. He took a packet of Marlboros from the back pocket of his jeans, lit one, and started to puff out smoke with the confidence of a professional. He held the cigarette out to her and while the smoke swept over her face, he was struck by a mysterious sadness, shaking his head and declaring, ‘What a shit party.’

From that day on, Lyonel decided they were a couple, or at least that they were doomed to maintain a relationship of a sexual nature. He started to send her letters in which he announced the erotic sensations she generated in him.

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