Thomas

You never knew when it all stopped being a joke and started to hurt, to really hurt. Maybe it was when your mom died and your dad started to fade away little by little, and in the end, he left you with her, your stepmother. Maybe she loves you, but if she does, she hides it with yelling. Seriously, there isn't a day that goes by without fights in your house; it's an everyday occurrence.

Even though it's always the same, today was different because she found out about Tomás, she cursed you out badly, and to top it all off, she insulted your mother, saying, "You're going to end up like your mom." You didn't say anything to her, you just went out, you went for a walk and that's it, you bought something, you needed to clear your head and do something stupid so you wouldn't cry from the anger that comment made you feel.

You left the kiosk, and there was Tomás, with a joint in his hand, waiting for you. He looked up and noticed, he noticed you were upset.

—'Look who's on the loose, and what's with that face?'

He said he wanted to give you a little kiss, like it wasn't really necessary to tell him, because he knew what was up, he knew you, he knew when you had fought, from your pauses, your look, but he wanted you to talk.