We left the building, and Lorena stretched as if she had just escaped from prison.— If I had to listen to five more minutes of that lecture, I'd have dropped the course. — She stretched her arms and pointed to a shaded path. — Come on, I'll show you the Green Area.
We walked to the grove beside the building, known by everyone as the Arts crowd's hangout spot. There laughter, plastic bottles of booze, and a certain herbal smell all blended together. The sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot and the distant song of birds completed the scene.— Relax, it's just weed. — Lorena pulled a cigarette from her bag like she was offering candy. — You smoke?I shook my head, appalled.— Of course not.— I knew it. You've got "I don't smoke" written all over your face.— Not this again! — I grumbled. — My grandma says the same thing. I can be whatever I want; my face doesn't define me.
Before thinking twice, I grabbed the cigarette from her mouth and tried to take a drag. The result? I started coughing like I was choking on fire.Lorena burst out laughing, pounding the concrete table we had taken over.— Easy there, kid! — she teased. — This place is a deep river. Only those who know how to swim against the current dive in. Otherwise, they drown.— And you talk like you already have a PhD in it.— People tell stories… — she dodged, blowing smoke through her nose. Then she arched an eyebrow. — Anyway, have you heard about Saturday's party yet?— Party? — my eyes widened.— The seniors throw one for the freshmen with the hazing money. There'll be booze, music, boys… — she smirked. — And if you want recognition, a party's worth ten times more than hazing.— And how do you even know about that?— Posters, gossip, brilliant deductions. — She flashed her gum piercing with a grin. — Nothing special.
She winked at me and went back to her cigarette like she owned the campus.
When I told Rafa about my new friend, he was surprised.— Just… be careful — he said, not pushing the matter. — It's too early to trust someone.
His words echoed in my head for a few seconds. I didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right. Still, I chose to ignore the warning — Lorena was way too fun for me to start weighing risks.
I spent the whole week glued to Lorena, even with that tiny nagging doubt in the back of my mind. Maybe it was too soon to trust someone so much, but loneliness weighed heavier than caution, and that's where she fit: dark skin, deep eyes, and curly hair that seemed to have a life of its own. She smoked almost a pack a day, always with the excuse that she'd probably die of a heart attack at thirty, like nearly everyone in her family. Her style was a mix of hippie and rebel, with that air of not giving a damn about anyone's judgment. Little by little, I realized how different we were — and, ironically, that's exactly what brought us closer.
Lorena had lived in Ghosteisd since she was little, knew everything about the university, and always had a quick answer ready. She said her father taught Law there, and that, even against his will, Arts had always been her passion. She'd never met her mother and, according to her, started smoking in high school "just because." To her, the feeling of smoke was delightful, but no other drugs.
And there was another thing: when she found out I lived with my best friend, she cracked up.— Just tell me one thing: is he gay?— No! — I snapped, rolling my eyes.— Sure… — she muttered, laughing even harder.
Deep down, I was happy to have someone to talk to. Maybe too fast. But who cares? For the first time since I got here, I didn't feel like a stranger.
On Wednesday, I invited her over for a movie night and finally introduced her to Rafa. The chemistry between them was instant. They talked, laughed, and joked, but soon I realized she wouldn't be his crush. Lorena was fun, sarcastic, and different from anyone he usually clicked with. And Rafa? Well, he was Rafa.
The next day came the infamous costume hazing, where we had to wear tiny clothes and dance begging for change from cars on the highway that cut through the city. I insisted Lorena join, and she eventually agreed. In the middle of the game, she let slip something that made me laugh:— Your friend is hot as hell. — Then she winked. — And nice, too.I laughed at her bluntness. It was nothing new to me. Rafa had changed a lot since childhood.— Think I've got a chance? — she continued, shaking her hips like she was on stage.— Go for it, who knows? — I teased.— I'm kidding! — she shook her head, laughing. — He's way too proper. Not my type.I smiled and shrugged.
Meanwhile, Rafa was dealing with his own hazing, which only lasted three days. He was sociable and didn't take long to make friends. Over Friday dinner, he mentioned Paloma and Thomas, classmates:— We agreed to do all the assignments together — he said, devouring a sandwich with ketchup dripping onto his plate.— And when am I going to meet them? — I asked, pulling a face.He just smiled, ignored the question, and went back to eating like he was shooting a sexy burger commercial.
I waited for his one-man show to end.— When there's time — he said flatly, wiping his mouth. — And Lorena? You two getting along?— Yeah. Sometimes she says crazy stuff, but I like her.— Hm. — Rafa nodded, but didn't push it.
I decided to tease.— By the way, she said you're "hot as hell." — I grinned innocently. — I didn't say it!— Here we go… — he sighed, rolling his eyes.— Come on, Rafa! Don't tell me there's no one in your class you find attractive?He shook his head silently.— At least someone you think looks good?He stared at me seriously. I got the message.— It's just attraction, Rafa. You won't die if you admit it. You don't have to love someone to hook up.— I respect people who think that way. I just want mine respected, too.I sighed.— I know. You need to get to know someone first, to avoid heartbreaks. — I repeated his mantra, grumbling. — And then they call me the dreamer.He smirked.— You still believe in love at first sight, Aza.— It works in movies! — I shot back.— Just like when you nearly drowned trying to copy a movie? — he laughed.
I remembered the scene: us at the waterfall, me swallowing water thinking I could swim because I'd seen it on TV, and him pulling me back. Rafa had always been my safe harbor. Only now, looking at him sitting there, I realized the skinny boy had become a man. Kind, smart, funny, and with a heart always ready to help. The girls back home had started noticing it, too, but he always brushed it off when I mentioned it, changing the subject. Always!
**The week flew by. The hazing was ridiculous, but we survived. On Saturday, Lorena showed up for the party. I, ready in my worn-out jeans and Rafa's hoodie, was convinced it was a "perfect" look.— That's party clothes? — Rafa asked, laughing.— It's style. — I gave my hip a playful tap. — Comfortable and sexy.He muttered and went back to his book.
The doorbell rang. I opened it to find Lorena: tiny shorts, ripped tights, oversized band tee, and a scarf that looked stolen from a rockstar's thrift shop. She was still putting out her cigarette on the entry wall.— You're lucky this building doesn't have cameras. Otherwise, Mrs. Márcia would've made you lick that wall.— If she complained, I'd tell her to install an elevator, because those stairs kill any look. — She gave me a once-over and widened her eyes. — Except yours, of course. Because, girl… you look like you're about to beg for change at a stoplight.
Behind me, Rafa chuckled under his breath.— I warned you.I rolled my eyes.— But, being the great friend I am, I brought my lucky backpack. — Lorena lifted her bag dramatically. — Let's fix this.
And I already knew: this wasn't going to end well.