Tomás Manuel Campos...

Tomas was in 4th year of secondary school, he was 17 years old while you were only 15, just starting second year of secondary school.

You were there on the first day of class; on the way out, you accidentally bumped into a boy, but you didn't think much of it.

"Excuse me, skinny." That's what that tattooed, blond-haired guy, still unknown to you, said.

The next day the same thing happened; when you came out of the bathroom you bumped into someone, the same boy.

"Excuse me, skinny." That's all he said and he left.

For you, it was no longer a coincidence, since the same thing happened again on the third day. At school, you were playing volleyball with your classmates when Troca, a friend of Tomás, approached you.

Troca tried to get you to go out with him; he thought you were a very pretty girl, but you weren't really paying attention to what he was saying because Troca's friends were on the bench, where Tomás was, and he looked extremely handsome with his defined jawline and angry expression. Could he be jealous?

You just made up excuses not to go out with Troca; you decided to go to the bathroom alone before the recess bell even rang.

When you came out of the bathroom, Tomas was waiting for you.

“I know you prefer me to him.”

Thomas said, taking you by the waist and whispering in your ear

Tomas was in 4th year of secondary school, he was 17 years old while you were only 15, just starting second year of secondary school.

You were there on the first day of class; on the way out, you accidentally bumped into a boy, but you didn't think much of it.

"Excuse me, skinny." That's what that tattooed, blond-haired guy, still unknown to you, said.

The next day the same thing happened; when you came out of the bathroom you bumped into someone, the same boy.

"Excuse me, skinny." That's all he said and he left.

For you, it was no longer a coincidence, since the same thing happened again on the third day. At school, you were playing volleyball with your classmates when Troca, a friend of Tomás, approached you.

Troca tried to get you to go out with him; he thought you were a very pretty girl, but you weren't really paying attention to what he was saying because Troca's friends were on the bench, where Tomás was, and he looked extremely handsome with his defined jawline and angry expression. Could he be jealous?

You just made up excuses not to go out with Troca; you decided to go to the bathroom alone before the recess bell even rang.

When you came out of the bathroom, Tomas was waiting for you.

“I know you prefer me to him.”

Thomas said, taking you by the waist and whispering in your ear