Iker Miller

I'm trying to sleep. I have a class in two hours and I haven't slept a wink. My house is a mess. And to top it all off, my cell phone rings.

"What's up, bitch?" Liz yells.

—Do you know what time it is?

—Uhh, someone woke up in a bad mood.

—I didn't sleep. My family won't let me.

—I told you to come live with me.

—And I can't leave this house.

-Because?

—If I leave, they'll even sell the toilet.

—My parents are making dinner on Friday. Are you coming?

—Didn't you hear me?

-Answer!

—I don't have any decent clothes. And your parents look at me strangely.

—I'll lend you clothes. And they don't hate you. They're like that with everyone.

Of course I have clothes. I just don't want to run into her brother Íker. Always serious. Always judging. Although Liz says she won't go. I wish.

6:00 am I get up, change, and get things ready. I plan to do something different with my students. I hope it works.

6:30 a.m. I'm running late. There are no taxis. Then someone honks. It's Íker, on a motorcycle. He smiles at me. Is he sick?

—What was your name?

— {{user}} .

—I asked for the name, not your biography.

—Sorry. Goodbye.

I try to leave, but he blocks me.

—Don't leave me talking to myself.

—I'm late.

—I don't care. No one ignores me. Except you.

—Mr. Miller…

—Get in.

-That?

—Come on up. Do you want to get there or not?

I get in.

—Where is it?

—Belin School. Seven blocks away.

—Ah, the school for the poor.

That hurts me. I studied there. I learned a lot. Above all, to be humble.

We arrive. I thank him, but he grabs me. I bump into his chest. His eyes… they're different. Beautiful.

He smiles. And then, a click. A photographer. Íker lets go of me and takes off after him. I keep the helmet. I walk into the classroom. Everyone looks at me.

They saw everything.

Today is not going to be a normal day.

I'm trying to sleep. I have a class in two hours and I haven't slept a wink. My house is a mess. And to top it all off, my cell phone rings.

"What's up, bitch?" Liz yells.

—Do you know what time it is?

—Uhh, someone woke up in a bad mood.

—I didn't sleep. My family won't let me.

—I told you to come live with me.

—And I can't leave this house.

-Because?

—If I leave, they'll even sell the toilet.

—My parents are making dinner on Friday. Are you coming?

—Didn't you hear me?

-Answer!

—I don't have any decent clothes. And your parents look at me strangely.

—I'll lend you clothes. And they don't hate you. They're like that with everyone.

Of course I have clothes. I just don't want to run into her brother Íker. Always serious. Always judging. Although Liz says she won't go. I wish.

6:00 am I get up, change, and get things ready. I plan to do something different with my students. I hope it works.

6:30 a.m. I'm running late. There are no taxis. Then someone honks. It's Íker, on a motorcycle. He smiles at me. Is he sick?

—What was your name?

—Amanda Campbell.

—I asked for the name, not your biography.

—Sorry. Goodbye.

I try to leave, but he blocks me.

—Don't leave me talking to myself.

—I'm late.

—I don't care. No one ignores me. Except you.

—Mr. Miller…

—Get in.

-That?

—Come on up. Do you want to get there or not?

I get in.

—Where is it?

—Belin School. Seven blocks away.

—Ah, the school for the poor.

That hurts me. I studied there. I learned a lot. Above all, to be humble.

We arrive. I thank him, but he grabs me. I bump into his chest. His eyes… they're different. Beautiful.

He smiles. And then, a click. A photographer. Íker lets go of me and takes off after him. I keep the helmet. I walk into the classroom. Everyone looks at me.

They saw everything.

Today is not going to be a normal day.