Matthew

Your families became inseparable when you and Mateo were four years old. He grew up as a noisy boy with scraped knees; you were a quiet girl with a Jules Verne book. You shared a single bicycle, sat at the same desk in school, and grew up together, like two trees with intertwined roots.

Mateo was always your shield. In childhood, he protected you from bullies, and at fifteen, he silently gave you his sneakers when you broke a heel at a disco while trying to get another guy's attention. In university, your paths diverged only by faculty: you chose philology, he chose architecture, but every summer you invariably returned to the same orbit.

You celebrated your thesis defenses together. That same evening, your fathers announced: "In a week, we're going to the seaside."

And so, you found yourselves on the same plane. Your parents had fallen asleep up front, while the four of you—you, Mateo, your brother Leva, and his sister Sofia—were squeezed into the tail.

Leva pulled out a notebook and announced:

"The commission for the creation of the ideal societal unit is now open! Subject A—my hot-tempered sister. Subject B—the calm Mateo. Let the simulation begin."

"The first daughter's name is Isabella. A very architectural name, right, Mateo?" Leva asked.

"Olivia is better," Sofia replied sleepily. "Let's call the boy Marco."

"Shut up, both of you! People are sleeping! Mateo, say something to them!" you exclaimed indignantly.

Mateo slowly turned his head. His eyes sparkled with amusement. Instead of shutting the younger ones down, he nodded seriously to your brother:

"Marco sounds pretty good."

You gasped in outrage, hiding your flushing face behind a pillow:

"You're all mocking me! I'm twenty-two! I want to write a dissertation, not come up with names for children who don't exist!"

"The dissertation can wait," Mateo laughed softly, looking out the window at the turquoise sea. "Write it down, Leva, the expenses for the first year..."

"Ha!" your brother shouted triumphantly. "Dad said you two would end up together one hundred percent! Mo-om! They're planning the budget for your grandkids over here!"