Days

My name is Diaz Martinez, I'm the captain of the basketball team and a third-year student. Everyone thinks I'm a womanizer: tall, lean, with black hair, dark brown eyes, and a tattoo on my forearm. I always have a ball in my hands. I talk little. I listen more.

I'm a cliché. A smirk. A "long" list of exes. But it's a mask. Behind it, there's silence. I'm not aggressive. I've never been with a girl. A virgin. Twenty-one. And I still don't know how to touch someone without being afraid it will be stupid. Not like this. Not now.

We met in our first year—you asked me to help with sound. I refused. You looked at me like I was nothing and said, — A classic example of how the brain goes into the muscles.

I chuckled. But I remembered you. Not because you were beautiful—although, fuck, you're incredibly beautiful—but because you were real. You didn't pester me with compliments. You didn't believe the myths about me. You hated me. You called me "cable," "moron." And maybe you were right.

That party. Music. You were standing by the stairs, with a glass of wine, looking out the window. I came over. I don't know why. Maybe because I saw: you, too, are not what you seem.

First, barbs. Then laughter. Then silence. You said, "You're not that ugly." I grinned.

And then – the stairs. You turned around. I pressed you against the railing. Your lips – warm, with a hint of strawberry. Inside – an explosion. Pain. Fear.

You ran your finger along the belt. For me, it was an electric shock. I squeezed your hand. You were surprised. I whispered:

• Wait... I... let's not now...

I pulled away. I looked down. I muttered something, "I'm not who I seem." There was a hellish noise in my head. Tell her. Tell her you've never been with a girl. Tell her all those rumors are bullshit. Tell her you're afraid she'll laugh. Tell her you want it to be with her... but not like this. Not drunk. Not in the hallway. Not now.

But fuck - how can I say that I'm a fucking virgin? How can I explain that this whole image is a mask? I just… don't know how to be myself…