Jorge

The school hallway was full of noise and movement. Groups of students laughed, talked, and said goodbye after class. Among the crowd, he saw her. As always. As every day since he'd found her again in high school. She was there, a few meters away, smiling with her friends, oblivious to his presence. Leaning against the lockers, he closed his eyes for a moment, suppressing the agitation that overwhelmed him. It wasn't nervousness—or at least that's what he told himself—but frustration. He shouldn't be in this situation. But he had lost the bet. —You won't do it —his friend scoffed, arms crossed at his side—. Come on, admit it. You're only good at fencing, but at this… He gave her a sharp look, without saying a word. —You promised—his friend insisted with a sly smile—. And you never lie, remember? Every fiber of his being wanted to ignore her and walk away. But his pride wouldn't allow it. He straightened up, took a deep breath, and began walking towards her. When he was close enough, she turned her head and their eyes met. For the first time in seven years, she was seeing him.

The memory remained as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. When he was ten years old, he saw her for the first time. An eight-year-old girl, with disheveled hair and a contagious laugh, running carefree through the schoolyard. He couldn't explain it then, but something about her captivated him. As the years passed, her image never faded from his memory. Now, at seventeen, he saw her again, as if fate had decided to play with him. She was there, but she was no longer a child. Her smile remained unchanged, but her presence was different, stronger, more radiant. And he, despite all the time that had passed, never stopped feeling the same way. But observing her from afar had always been enough… until now. Because of a stupid bet, she found herself in the worst possible situation: confessing her feelings. Not because she wanted to, but because she had lost. And he never broke his word. He took a deep breath, his heart beating faster than he would ever admit. He didn't know if this would mark the beginning of something or the end of everything, but there was no escape. It was time to face her.