Free Training in Love by Manuela Pigna Page B

know about, it’s
got to be your parents that messed you up. You would have begun to look for
comfort in that, as an outlet, and then over time, your mother’s nice little
remarks only worsened the situation.”
    I
relax on the cafè chair. We look at each other in silence for a few moments and
continue with our breakfast.
    “Anyway,
this thing is interesting,” Linda says after a little.
    “Yes,
I think so too,” I reply while stirring my cappuccino a little.
    “And…”
She clears her voice, “how is the training going?”
    “Oh,
well, I have to say,” I answer while taking another tiny piece of tart. My
damned stomach has almost had enough. “This week we began to run and you know,
I was afraid I couldn’t do it… fucking terrified – you know how I am at
sports.” I look up a second to meet her gaze. “With Andrea’s method though, I
managed to finish. I was destroyed at the end, as though I’d done who knows
what instead of ten minutes of running alternating with walking, but… anyway,
for someone who didn’t think she’d even get to five, it’s not bad,” I conclude
smiling.
    Linda
nods, she’s studying her cup too, then she begins to play with the teaspoon.
“Well, fine. But,” she clears her throat again, “how’s it going with him?”
    “Him
who?”
    Linda
looks me straight in the eye, cocking her head to the side as though I were a
child in need of reprimanding.
    I
look at her quizzically.
    “With
this Andrea.”
    “Oh.”
I had, obviously, understood, but I played around because I didn’t like the
tone she’d used and all the throat clearing she had to do. “Really well. I’m
very pleased with him.”
    Linda
looks at me for a second without speaking. “That’s it?”
    I
think for a minute about it. “He’s competent. Really. I’m really confident,
this time, that my plan to lose weight will have a positive outcome.”
    Linda
nods, but I see that she’s skeptical. I start to drink my cappuccino again.
Unfortunately I can’t finish the tart if I have to be faithful to the desires
of my stomach.
    “Oh
come on!” She burst out suddenly, pulling up her head and looking me in the eye
with her cheeks a little red. “Don’t you like him even a little?”
    I
raise my eyebrows.
    “I
mean, Nic describes him as who knows what… and Nic’s girlfriend that night too…
He seems like this big whatever! And you don’t say anything!”
    I
burst out laughing. “Oh Lindy…” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Andrea is this big whatever. It’s one of the few times in which someone’s reputation is
completely deserved.”
    “So?”
    “So
what?”
    “So
do you like him?” She asks leaning a little forward over the table.
    I
start laughing again. “Of course I like him. The reverse would be unlikely.
Everyone likes Andrea,” I conclude calmly. “I’d advise anyone who didn’t like
him to get their eyes checked. Everyone has their own tastes, sure, but Andrea
has an objective beauty.”
    Linda
leans back on her chair with a half frown.
    “Lindy…
I’m sorry to mention it to you, but you don’t seem satisfied even now…” I say
smiling.
    She
puffs, “No, it’s that…”
    “Hmm?”
    She
stares at me. “You say it so… calmly. Too calmly.” She studies me. “You had a
much more conspiratorial air when you told me about Gianca.” She stops for an
instant before continuing, as if the idea suddenly came to her, “Or is Gianca
more good looking?”
    I
laugh again. “No! Not at all! Andrea is really hard to beat!”
    She’s
even more perplexed and her faces make me want to die laughing.
    “Quit
laughing!” As I was saying… “You say these things, but it seems like you don’t
really like him.”
    “Oh,
no, I like him!” I correct her, still laughing. “I like him the way I like Brad
Pitt.”
    Linda
frowns. “What do you mean?”
    I
get a hold of myself, but the smile remains on my lips. “I mean that it’s a
totally abstract and theoretical