"Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I prefer to be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready."
At every step he took in the halls of the university, Eren repeated in his head the phrases that had already become mantras, principles to adhere to in order to keep his mind clear and simple; simple, like a sheet of paper, like a black coffee without sugar; simple, like the breeze that stirs the grass or the rain that, now, echoed on the roofs.
But today it was no use. Because neither reciting Hemingway's phrases, nor wearing the black clothes that he loved so much, nor listening to the rain that lashed the afternoon managed to placate the inevitable euphoria that the first days of school, the beginning of the year, generated in him. And in this year, for some reason, the feeling surfaced even more strongly. Perhaps it was because he recently started living alone, after he finally convinced his father to give him the apartment instead of putting it up for sale. Perhaps it was because he had transferred to this new college, close to his apartment, with all that that entailed. Maybe it was because this was already his third year of college. Maybe it was... Maybe it was a chance to meet new people, to experience new situations. The uncertainty, the expectation, the exciting idea of letting life surprise him day by day and let him surprise his own life.
He arrived at the door of the library. Of all the places in this university, none was as peaceful as that great room where the shelves were built full of books, whose carved crowns and aroma of old age, knowledge, study, invited him to sit down and get lost among the pages, contained by some of the cubicles in which, distributed here and there, other students spent their time.
He closed the big door and went to the cubicles. Everything was the same as yesterday, Monday, the first day of school. He was greeted first by the blue carpet with its rustle, thick, deliciously warm; then by the enormous silence, contained behind the large splashed windows which showed the windswept campus. Finally he was received by the cubicle he had used yesterday, with its back to one of the windows, where he could look out and see the whole library.
After leaving his backpack he turned to the shelves. Life seemed too short considering how much there was to read. Sitting there, surrounded by the rumour of rain, he would have liked to read some short story, or some poetry; perhaps some article written by his father —in a library as large as this one, they must have had several publications by him in the biology or medical sciences part— but he was not so vain: "Yes, I wanted to ask you if you have the book "Bone Regeneration and other physiological processes of hardening in the martial arts", by Grisha Yeager. Yes, Eren. Eren Yeager."
So he decided that being only the second day of class, he could relax and not face any serious reading, either of his own interest or related to his studies, so he slid his eyes along the first shelf in front of him, and stopped in a volume that caught his attention in the lines that covered its back. He had seen them somewhere, perhaps in a documentary. He took the heavy book, and read the cover:
"Gods and Tales of Norse Mythology"
It was barely enough for him to see the first page where a wonderful drawing showing a procession of unknown beings, fierce and warlike, was presented for him to rest the booklet on the table and bend his elbows, resting his chin in his hand.
Thus time passed. As Eren read, engrossed, the students who arrived and settled in the free cubicles or those who took their things and left, passed around him. It seemed that the only constant in that place, so mundane for others, so wonderful for Eren, who was lost in the sweet sensation of forgetting everything else that was part of his life, was that dark, straight hair that brushed against the firm neck, turned over the pages full of discoveries, of battles, of mythical beauty, and around which fell the black shirt and the black diver, immobile like the young man who read, lost, and found by the magnificent pleasure that conferred him to know more, a pleasure that incited him to always want to take the tip of the page and turn it to the next.
"Hey."
It took Eren a few seconds to record the voice that had called him, then he looked up and the first thing he saw was a pair of blue, inert eyes. Slow eyelashes and lower eyelids reinforced the cold gaze that fell on him. Lying on the edge of the divider, dressed in a light gray hooded diver, the girl looked at him unaffected by the delay in his response. Her roman nose stood out, her small mouth, her golden hair, her firm jaw, well set on the carved neck that was exposed by her hair being tied up in a bun... Everything stood out for Eren in that stoic face, even the two large locks that fell to the side and, although they seemed casual, he perceived them as something deliberate, indicative of a sense of style, of a strong personality.
"Hey," he replied.
"Do you plan to continue reading that book?" she said, pointing her finger. Eren glanced at the architecture of her hands.
"I... don't know? I just saw it behind me and it seemed interesting. Not that I need it for my classes, and you?"
Then it occurred to him that the way she had spoken had not been very cordial. When he went to lock eyes, she was tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Neither."
"Are you interested in Nordic mythology?"
At this point, they got a call from the head of the library. With a polite gesture, she indicated that they couldn't talk there. Eren peeked at the time on his cell phone, and a moment later closed the book, stood up and extended it to the girl with a smile.
"Here, I have to go."
She took it, her expression unchanged. "Thanks."
As Eren picked up his backpack and prepared to leave, he saw the girl sitting down and opening the book.
He felt that something was missing, not one of his possessions, no, but what he was struggling with inside him was an urge to do something, to say something more.
"...But I prefer to be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready."
Eren smiled. Again, as many other times in his life, Hemingway's work showed him the way, as if it were a place where he met his own inner self, that which was genuine within him and which, like so many others, he often hid because he did not have what the master considered fundamental in a person's life: courage.
Eren leaned on the divider, and spoke to her:
"What's your name?"
She raised her head.
"Annie."
He hoped that she would return the question.
"I'm Eren, Eren Yeager."
The girl's gaze altered for a moment. Eren seemed to identify a kind of surprise, though it was difficult to decipher given the unexpressed nature of her countenance.
"See you later," he said, walking down the corridor formed between the shelves and the cubicles.
.
.
.
Eren was aware of the importance of socializing in this new context of his life. If there was one thing that limited people, it was shyness. Shy people deprived themselves of many things in life. Perhaps because of a feeling that does not correspond to any external factor, but rather to a weight, an internal chain of our own that takes away the freedom to be who we want to he didn't want to miss anything, didn't want to diminish in any way, because being free was something wonderful.
There were two people he knew at this university. The year before, when he had accompanied his father on a two-day trip to a medical conference, he urged him to go for a walk and see the area. He ended up going into a craft beer bar. There, alone, looking out the window, savoring that cold bitterness he loved so much, he was approached by two young men, barely a year older than him, and they struck up a conversation. The naturalness of their dynamic, the spontaneity of their laughter and the themes they derived from it when the three asked for the second glass —and the third, and the fourth— had surprised Eren and confirmed what he kept repeating to himself: you have to go out and find life; it's there, for all those who dare. In that fortuitous meeting, they exchanged phone numbers and agreed at some point, when classes were over, and when they wanted to satisfy that scandalous energy that springs up in young people, that Eren would travel to their area again and they would go dancing in some club, filled with alcohol in their blood. But destiny wanted Eren to live there now, and what was once a vague idea now loomed as the reality that, he sensed, would prevail over every weekend they didn't have to study.
He was a few minutes late. Eren hoped they wouldn't be on time. The rain had stopped, so he could enjoy walking on the sidewalk without hiding under the roofs.
Marley's college was certainly well located for those who attended it. Just a few blocks from the building complex was an area full of bars and clubs. Cafes and bookstores abounded. This last aspect made Eren very happy. He imagined himself with a cup of coffee in his hand, starting a book in front of a window, and outside, just like today, a gentle rain and grey clouds.
Arriving at the corner where the right bar was, he saw his friends at the entrance. One of them, big, strong, saw him approaching and went to find him:
"Hey! Eren, my man! How you have been?"
"Reiner." They both received a hug and a pat on the back. "Long time no see. Same to you, Bert."
What Bertholdt carried in height he had in introversion. He was quiet, polite, and very sensible. He was a perfect counterbalance to Reiner's fiery character.
"I hope you've been well, Eren," he said, smiling at him.
"Hey dude, what the fuck," Reiner said, "your hair got longer and... you have gotten taller?"
Eren laughed.
"Yes, like two inches. My father says is a case of late growing. He had it too."
"Now you look like a man, dude," Reiner stated, analyzing it with his chin in his hand.
"Longer hair suits you well," Bertholdt said. "Are you planning to grow it more?"
"I don't know." Eren touched the tips that already caressed the top of his neck. "I will see along the way."
"Come," Reiner said, "let's get inside."
The three entered the bar and sat at one of the tables far away, by the windows facing the street. After ordering their beers, Bertholdt resumed the conversation.
"Did you finally get the scholarship to do fencing here at Marley University?"
"Yes. It was one of the reasons I was able to move here. Marley's got excellent standards, among the best in the country. I was called up for my performance at the state championship the year before."
"That's incredible, congratulations. You specialize in saber, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Is it true that now you live alone in your own apartment?" Reiner asked.
"It's actually my father's. It's a small two-room apartment he used to rent, but a few months ago the lease with the tenant ended. At first he wanted to put it up for sale, but with this scholarship thing I was able to get him to sign it over to me while I was in college."
"Man, I'm so envious of you. Bert and I have to live in those damned dorms. I mean, it isn't that bad, but compared to having your own place..."
"Haha, yes. And it's only six blocks from the campus."
"You HAVE to invite us some day man, and throw a party!" At that moment the barista arrived with the big glasses of beer and served them on the table.
"Of course man, I'm already planning it," Eren said, raising the glasses with Reiner and Bertholdt to toast, "I just need to know a few more people so we have a nice group."
The glasses collided and the three of them had a good drink.
"Don't worry about that," Reiner said, "we will take care of it. Marley is full of beautiful ladies."
Eren smiled, hiding her mouth behind the glass before drinking.
"So, are you guys working?"
"Yes," Bertholdt said, "I'm working as an assistant in an accounting firm."
"Me too," Reiner said, "I recently got a job at one of the gyms around here. It's in the morning, so there's not much fuss, and I can use the gym for free. What about you? Are you looking for work?"
"Yes. The truth is, just going to class tends to make me unproductive. Some part-time work would be good for me."
"Okay, if I find out who's hiring, I'll let you know as soon as I know." And Bertholdt nodded along with Reiner.
"Thank you guys."
They followed up with a second round of beers, accompanied by a large portion of chips. An hour later, when the conversation was over, when it was already dark, they left the bar and walked a few blocks together. Eren never stopped laughing with Reiner, and he valued Bertholdt's quietness. Bertholdt always knew how to bring up interesting topics of conversation, and his wisdom and restraint made him someone one could always count on when asking for an outside opinion. The dynamics of the trio had developed with amazing naturalness. It was a pity they didn't share classes, but that was perhaps what nourished their fast and enjoyable friendship: the need to agree on a time and place to meet, for which they couldn't, because of their responsibilities —work, study, hobbies and other people— waste the opportunity to have a good time. Every day that passes, one has to make it worthwhile, and this was something that the three of them understood, and they demonstrated it in the genuine timbre of their laughter, in their attention to each other's words, in the carefree comfort with which they passed the silences that occurred from time to time; in the light jokes, in the ease with which they laughed at themselves...
They parted, Reiner and Bertholdt back to their dorm, while Eren turned back to his apartment. When he arrived, his new home welcomed him quietly, austere, unfurnished. The truth is that Eren needed nothing more than what was there: a bed, a table, a chair, a kitchen, a bathroom and a library with his books. The fact that the bedroom was separate from the living room and kitchen was more than enough, and the small balcony was the last touch that made him deeply grateful for what he had.
He went into the kitchen and prepared a quick dinner. He thought about staying up and listening to music, but preferred to go to bed so as not to disrupt his schedule. He felt tired; the comfortable weight of the duvet on his body made him close his eyes and imagine, as he slowly sank into the warmth of his bed, into the heaviness of his eyelids. Tomorrow would be another day, a beautiful day. He would make the most of the hours before classes to go around the area a little more. Maybe he'd buy a book, and have a coffee in front of the window... Yes, that's what he'd do. He'd go out wearing warm clothes, because tomorrow was predicted to be a very cold day, and he'd read a little.
He soon vanished. That night, multiple images would come to his fuzzy dreams. He would see, rising from the darkness, his mother's clear face, smiling at him, talking to him without being able to hear her; the Nordic figures in the book would appear: Ymir, the founder of the race of the Frost Giants, who dwelt in the fortress of Utgard, beyond the world of men; Yggdrasil, the tree of life, the tree of the universe, whose branches and roots hold the nine worlds together; and pale lightning would show him the fur of Fenrir, the giant wolf, which from time to time came near and circled around him, stalking him, looking at him sometimes with suspicion, sometimes with unexpected curiosity, and there, when the mist was fading and the profile of its fangs, ears and muzzle were taking shape, he would see the great blue eyes, so cold, that looked down at him with their lowered eyelids, and then the wolf would transform, and around the eyes the fur became golden, and the fierce claws changed their shape to those of fine white hands, and the sturdy neck now appeared to him as a slender one, where he noticed the slight curvature of the nut. And the eyes... the blue eyes were still looking at him from above, being the only lights in the midst of that infinite darkness.
