My college paper is killing me. I haven’t been able to sleep properly in days, and I haven’t been able to write two pages of everything I need. That job irritates me to the point where I actually consider it more serious to drop out of college.

— Hi, love. - says Carlos, entering the room. He puts his hand on my shoulder and goes to the bathroom.— Okay?

—No, it is not. - I reply, angry, closing the file. — Right is not for me.

— Why do you think that? - Asks Carlos in the bathroom.

— Because I can’t do anything they ask me to do. I find everything boring...- I shout for him to listen. I bite my lips while I think about the idea I had during those days.— I think it’s best to drop out of college.

— What? - asks Carlos, emerging from inside the bathroom and stopping at the door. — Why are you giving up your course?

—Because I don’t think it’s for me… I don’t know… things are getting complicated, and I don’t … I’m not good at it.

—Dahlia. - says Carlos, turning my chair and looking at my face very closely. — You are saying this only because you found an obstacle in your way. What is it? If I gave up every time something happened on the project, I wouldn’t be here. I’ve been on the project for a year and I haven’t given up on it! Now, just because you have a hard job on your hands, do you want to give up? Dahlia, the secret to success, is persistence. So look at this work as your enemy, and I’m sure that tomorrow, when you have them in your hands, you will have given up this idea.

He gives a kiss on my lips and walks to the wardrobe where he takes a tie and a clean shirt. I turn my chair and keep noticing my husband getting ready again to leave.

—Where are you going? - I ask, crossing my arms.

— Happy hour with the boys. - replies Carlos, straightening the tie. — Elson wants to gather the staff.

— All right. - I say, taking a deep breath right away.

— I promise not to arrive so late.- says Carlos, kissing my forehead. — I love you.

—I love you. - I say while my husband goes away.

I look again at my work: He is my enemy and I must face him.
Then a window pops up on my computer, distracting me:

Mr. X says:
Good evening, Dalia. How are you?

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Not good. I have a college paper to do… and ours… almost nothing came out, and it’s for tomorrow. I’m desperate! The jobs are getting harder and harder, and I’m seriously thinking about dropping out of college. Carlos thinks I shouldn’t give up just because of an obstacle, but I’ve been feeling this for a while…

Mr. X says:
Calm down, Doce. I agree with your husband. I think before you drop out of college, you should think very hard. What is your job about? Maybe I can help you.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Administrative act. I didn’t find much related… I’m lost. The deadline is tomorrow morning.

Mr. X says:
I have to go. My wife has arrived. I promise to help you with this work. Do not give up. Until Doce.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Until.

The hours pass, Carlos did not arrive, and I stopped my work exactly where I left it. I rest my head on the desk, dead from fatigue. Next thing I know, I feel a hand touching my shoulder, scaring me.

—Dalia, come to sleep. - asks Carlos.

—What time is it? - I ask, rubbing my eyes.

—Four. - replies Carlos, pulling me against his body and leading me to bed. He covers me and gives a kiss on my forehead. — Good night, love.

—Good night. - I reply by falling asleep.

***

The sunlight hits my face, awakening me. The clock marks eight in the morning as I slowly stretch and turn towards it. I jump out of bed, I’m late for class and I didn’t even finish work. I run to the bathroom and get ready. I go back to the desperate computer. No doubt, I will take a huge zero in this work, which will cost me more hours of studying. Then I notice that the window of my MSN is flashing with the name of Mr. X.

Mr. X says:
I hope this helps you, sweet. Have a great day.

atoadministrativo.docx

I open the file and the surprise slide: There is everything I need. Mr. X left the document ready to print. I sit down and put the header and print. I arrive late, but with the work in hand. 

A week later, my teacher delivered the papers and mine had a huge ten , surprising everyone, including Filomena, who avoided talking to me from the other day. So I decide to share with Mr. X the conversation I had with my friend:

Mr. X says:
Don’t worry, Doce. Your friend is just like those young girls I told you about: They associate sex with love, and then they get hurt for nothing. If they had the same maturity as you, they would know how to differentiate a genuine feeling from a virtual sex. It’s nothing serious fun, and I’m glad to know you don’t take anything so seriously, Doce.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Can I ask you something?

Mr. X says:
Always.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Why do you keep calling me Doce? What does it mean?

Mr. X says:
Doce means sweet in Portuguese. And I call you that because you are the sweetest person I have ever met. But if you want me to stop calling you that, I’ll call you Dalia again.

That phrase stirred me up. X thinks I’m sweet… sounds strange, but I felt unique to him. I liked the nickname.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
No, you can keep calling me Doce.

Mr. X says:
Great. Now I need to work, but I’ll be back later. I hope to meet you here.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Up to, Mr. X.

Mr. X says:
See you later, Doce.