To say he spent the night awake was an understatement. Tomás had spent the night staring at the ceiling, as if tethered to his bed, unable to escape his own torment. When the first ray of sun illuminated the window, he didn't hesitate: he got up and headed for high school. He arrived an hour earlier than usual and, upon entering the classroom, found silence. No one had arrived yet. He needed that emptiness, that familiar place where he could at least pretend that everything was in order. But he knew very well what awaited him. The first class of the day was literature, and Professor Sofía would be there.
How was he going to pretend nothing had happened? It was a titanic task. His mind, tangled in confused and bitter thoughts, kept replaying the previous night. How could Bella have left him waiting for so many hours without a single explanation? How could she apologize with just a "I'm sorry"? That brief message was like a dagger still burning in his chest. He felt humiliated, angry, and deeply hurt. He wanted something real, something genuine, something that always seemed elusive. But, instead of facing it, he simply wiped away his tears and looked out the window, where a distant figure crossed the courtyard.
Minutes later, Anaís appeared at the classroom door. Seeing him, she frowned with concern. She put her briefcase on the desk and approached him.
"It's strange to see you here so early. Did something happen?"
Tomás looked up with effort, trying to regain his usual mask of indifference.
"Yeah, everything's fine."
Anaís sat on the desk in front of his, crossing her arms as she watched him carefully.
"It doesn't look like it. If you need to talk, you can trust me."
He forced a smile, more a nervous grimace than a true expression of joy.
"Nothing's wrong. Or, at least, nothing you or I can fix. But there is something I want to tell you, though it might bother you."
Anaís raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Does it have to do with Sam?"
Surprise reflected on Tomás's face. "How do you know?"
"On Friday, I saw you talking to him in the backyard. And this week he's been acting strange with me, like he's avoiding looking at me. Before, he always seemed embarrassed and would run away, but now it's different."
Tomás sighed. "I guess you know what it's about."
Anaís looked away, irritated. "Yes, I know. And it bothers me. If he wants something, he should tell me himself. Of course, I'm going to reject him, but at least it would be direct, something that shows courage, not cowardice. He's always been like this: a coward. Why do you think he's your shadow?"
"We've been friends for a long time. I don't think he has hidden motives."
Anaís scoffed, visibly exasperated. "You don't realize, do you? You never notice what's happening around you. To you, the only person who matters in this room is Sunny."
Tomás looked at her in disbelief. "And aren't I talking to you now?"
"We started talking this year. But we've been in the same class since we were four years old. You've always been a strange guy, Tomás. But I didn't think it was serious enough to isolate you from everyone."
"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit?"
Anaís stared at him, her frustration evident. "I'm telling you the truth. That's what friends do."
"Then why do I sense so much anger in your words?"
"Because I'm mad at you. Because you can't see beyond your nose."
Tomás raised a hand and placed it gently on Anaís's shoulder. "I don't mean to bother you. If I'm a burden to you, just stop talking to me."
Those words landed like a dry blow. Anaís's eyes filled with tears instantly. She had held back her feelings for years, gathering the courage to approach him, and in a single moment, everything seemed to crumble.
"Don't push me away now," she said, her voice broken.
It was then that Tomás realized the impact of his words. Without fully understanding, but wanting to calm her, he leaned in and clumsily wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Don't cry, please. I won't push you away if you don't want me to. We're friends, after all. What made you cry? Is it about Sam?"
Anaís shook her head, trying to compose herself. "It bothers me that you don't realize... everything that's happening around you. It bothers me that you don't see me."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll talk to Sam so he doesn't bother you anymore. Though I agree with you: if he wants something, he should tell you to your face."
Anaís extended her hand towards Tomás, and he took it without hesitation. "Could you give me a chance someday?"
He looked at her, surprised. He didn't let go of her hand, because he knew it cost her too much to say it. But he also knew he couldn't reciprocate in the way she expected.
"I wish I could say I like you too, because you're a great person. But... less than three weeks ago I was rejected, and I'm still not well. How could I care for someone else so soon?"
Anaís nodded, suppressing another tear. "I understand..."
At that moment, she noticed something she hadn't seen before: the marks on Tomás's face. His broken lip, the swelling on his nose, and the thin cut on his cheek.
"What happened to you? Did you get into a fight?"
"Something like that," he replied with a bitter smile. "I got hit for being an insolent brat."
Anaís let out a shy giggle, her eyes still wet. "Don't make me laugh now..."
The bell interrupted their conversation, and soon the room began to fill up. Sam and Sunny arrived, greeting him cheerfully, but Tomás could no longer look at Sam with the same disposition. Despite everything, he knew he had to break the news to him, a test his friend had to face alone.
When Sofía entered the classroom, impeccable as ever, their gazes didn't cross for a second. She played her part coldly, and he did the same. They remained silent, ignoring each other, but the tension between them still simmered, like an invisible thread threatening to snap at any moment. No one noticed, but both were fighting their own battles, so far and so close at the same time.