Look at Us Breathing Analía Villagra (bio) Since breaking up six months ago, Ana and Giovanni no longer take their shirts off when they have sex. Ana is pretty sure Giovanni has a new girlfriend, but he still calls. “I worry about you,” he says over the phone, whispered and sweet. “You’re going to have to move on, you know,” as the condom snaps off. She doesn’t remind him he’s the one who called. Once he leaves, she puts her sweatpants on and returns to her desk. She’s almost finished with her paper on obsessive-compulsive disorders in children, and when that’s done, she has a test to study for. She’s a senior but she’s taking an introductory engineering course for fun. Her cousin Monica thinks she’s crazy. Doesn’t she want a break before she starts grad school in the fall? If he knew her current schedule, Giovanni would be critical too, though for different reasons. It had annoyed him when Ana got invested in classes outside her major—she was so flighty, he said, unfocused. Not focused on him, Monica translated. Whatever they say, Ana likes the weight of a full course load. She is patient and methodical by nature, the perfect recipe for a good student. It’s going to make her a good social worker too, which has been her goal since high school. Monica, terrorizer of school administrators since age 11, laughed and wished her luck when Ana started researching Masters programs. Giovanni was more skeptical as she worked on her graduate school application last fall. “I don’t think you really know what you want,” he said. “I can’t even tell if you want to be with me.” Ana, mystified by the change in subject, listened to him talk about his roommates’ girlfriends. How they made dinner for the whole apartment, how they came to the park on Sunday to watch the guys play flag football while Ana rushed back to her dorm to study. His litany of disappointments continued for weeks. How could she plan for the future when she couldn’t commit to the present? Then, right before Thanksgiving, “This isn’t working,” he said. “It’s over.” Good riddance, Monica told her. Ana didn’t tell her cousin when he started calling again a few weeks after dumping her—always late, sometimes drunk. She answers every time. After two years together their bodies have their own rhythm, and it’s only their bodies now, they don’t speak much—a change for Giovanni, no different for Ana. She appreciates the new arrangement for its simplicity. [End Page 101] She knows what he wants from her, and it’s easy to give. He calls once or twice a week, they have sex, and he leaves. They’ve used condoms consistently since about March, which is what makes Ana think he’s seeing someone, and she finds it sweet really—he’s such a conscientious cheater. ________ Monica calls at 1:53 a.m.; Ana is awake because she’s still studying. Monica is up because she’s drunk. “We broke up,” Monica says. “For real this time. A week before our fucking graduation! God, Jesse is such an asshole. We should go somewhere. On a trip.” All four years of college, Ana has been grateful she doesn’t go to school in New York with her cousin. If she did, Monica would be at her door every other week with an overnight bag, a purse stuffed with cash taken from her dad’s account, and a new scheme. “Okay,” Ana says. “Okay?” “Let’s go on a trip.” “You’re in?” “Sure.” “You’re amazing! I’ll call you tomorrow.” Monica hangs up, and Ana congratulates herself on getting rid of her in record time—she loves her cousin, she does, but nothing good ever comes from these late-night phone calls. She is shocked when Monica actually calls back at 10 the next morning. “I need your passport number,” she says. “My what?” “Please God tell me you have a passport?” “I do.” She knows it’s valid because Giovanni...
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