The Los Angeles sky was an almost unreal blue that August morning in 2010. The sun cast its golden rays over the perfectly aligned suburban homes of a quiet neighborhood in Brentwood, where the trees danced gently to the rhythm of a lazy breeze. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and a future about to be written.
Inside a black SUV with temporary California plates sat Gustavo Silva, 17, a Brazilian, multilingual, successful investor and, more recently, a resident of the American West Coast.
"We're here," his father, Leandro, announced with a tired but proud smile, parking the car in the garage of a spacious two-story house with a sand-colored facade and white windows. His mother, Carla, breathed a sigh of relief.
"I thought this GPS would send us straight to Las Vegas," she joked, as she removed her seatbelt and looked around, observing the neighborhood with a mother's watchful eyes.
Gustavo got out of the car and stood for a moment on the sidewalk, feeling the gentle wind caress his face. He observed everything with sharp eyes, the kind of eyes that knew how to see opportunities even in the most banal things.
There, in that new city, on a new continent, he was starting his last year of high school. But for Gustavo, all of that was just another step on a ladder that he had already started climbing long before most young people his age.
Flashback:
Three years earlier, still living in São Paulo, Gustavo spent nights reading about the financial market while his classmates played video games or spent hours on Orkut. At 14, he had already learned the basics of stocks, exchange rates and cryptocurrencies at a time when this was still a language for the few. His first investment with the money from the volunteer internship he got at his uncle's accounting office tripled in six months.
In two years, he had not only multiplied his fortune, but also transformed the lives of his own family. His father had quit his job to manage the investment company his son had created. His mother, a former literature teacher, had become CEO of the family's educational foundation. Gustavo was not arrogant. He had an impressive calm, a discreet smile and a humility that confused those who expected to find a snobbish teenager.
Back to the present:
"Son, remember to check your school emails. You need to confirm your enrollment," Carla reminded him, unloading one of the suitcases.
"It's already done, Mom. I have a meeting with the guidance counselor tomorrow," Gustavo replied in perfect English, with a slight touch of a French accent, which made his way of speaking almost poetic.
The house was incredible. Three bedrooms, a pool in the back, an open-plan kitchen. But the most surprising thing was yet to come. In the house next door, on the other side of a white picket fence, the front door opened abruptly. A middle-aged man who looked like a mattress salesman came out carrying a children's bicycle.
— Oh, crap! Luke, that bike is still here! — he shouted into the house.
Gustavo looked curiously, and before he could turn his attention to unloading the trunk, a girl appeared on the porch, leaning against the door frame, wearing short jean shorts and a white tank top, with long, slightly wavy blond hair and an expression of teenage boredom on her face.
— Just push it to the back of the garage, Dad. It's not rocket science — she said, rolling her eyes.
Phil Dunphy smiled at her.
— And that's why I love you, Haley. Always solving problems in a... um, minimalist way.
Haley Dunphy didn't notice Gustavo right away. He, on the other hand, was momentarily speechless. Not because of her beauty — although it was hard not to notice — but because he recognized faces. He'd always trained his visual memory. And she looked exactly like the girl he'd seen in a local advertisement for the school he'd researched days before.
— Haley Dunphy... — he murmured.
The universe had a sense of humor. And a certain irony.
"Hey! Are you the new neighbor?" Phil shouted, seeing Gustavo standing there.
"Yes, sir. Gustavo Silva. We just got back from Brazil," he replied with a wave.
Phil walked up to him with a huge smile.
"Welcome! We love Brazilians. I'm Phil. And that's my oldest daughter, Hailey."
"Hi," Haley said, now noticing the boy. She stared at him for two seconds longer than usual. It wasn't common to see guys like that in the neighborhood. Tall, dark-haired, with a confident posture, but not ostentatious. And... wait. Was he wearing a Sorbonne T-shirt?
"Did you... study in France?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Summer school. And I did an exchange program in Madrid for a semester before coming here," he replied, trying to sound casual.
Phil's eyes widened.
"Wow, and here I thought my three-week sales training in Las Vegas was impressive..."
Haley smiled for the first time.
"You're going to study where ?"
— West LA College. I'm a senior. I transferred from the technical school I was attending in Brazil.
— Me too! I mean, I study there. Maybe we'll have some classes together — she said, with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
That first meeting was just the beginning. Within days, Haley and Gustavo had become friends. She introduced him to Alex, Luke, Claire, each one more eccentric than the last. Claire tried to play CIA investigator for ten minutes, asking questions about Brazilian customs, while Mitch and Cam, when they were introduced during a visit, were charmed by Gustavo's accent and started arguing about where he would best fit into a costume for an imaginary play.
However, it was with Haley that the strongest connection developed.
Scene: Diner near school, three weeks later
— Okay, so you tell me you speak four languages, understand investing, have lived in France and Spain, and can still solve Alex's math homework in minutes. Are you sure you're not a spy?" Haley joked, taking a sip of her milkshake.
"I'm not a spy. I just… like to learn," he replied with a half smile.
She rested her chin on her hand and watched him.
"And why would a guy like you be friends with someone like me?"
"Because you're funny, smart in your own way… and you have a family that looks like something out of a sitcom. That's fascinating."
She laughed out loud.
"Okay, point for you. And I can't deny it: life with the Dunphys is, at the very least, a poorly edited reality show."
"And I love watching it."
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