The class with Sofía ended without incident, and Tomás felt a slight calm that almost resembled peace. Perhaps he was improving his concentration, learning to play that role-playing game between teacher and student, between superior and inferior. He thought about it during the break, trying to convince himself that he was adapting to everything, when Sunny approached with her typical energy.
"Where were you this weekend?" she asked with a tone that sounded more accusatory than curious. "I went looking for you Saturday and Sunday."
Tomás sighed, immediately feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, I was looking for work on Saturday, and on Sunday I went for a walk until late. You should have called me; we could have gone somewhere."
Sunny frowned and crossed her arms. "Come on, every time I call you, you have something to do. That's why I tried to surprise you. At least I got to meet your cousin. She's really pretty, by the way."
"If you say so," he replied, his tone absent.
Sunny leaned in, lowering her voice to prevent others from hearing. "Did you talk to Anaís about Sam?"
"I did," Tomás said, immediately feeling a knot form in his stomach. "But I don't have good news."
She sighed deeply, as if she had expected that answer from the beginning. "I figured. It's not like we can do anything. But I don't know if he'll take it well. Besides, from what I know, Anaís was dating Alex, from the class next door. Or at least, he confessed to her before last year ended."
"Getting rejected once or twice is the least you can expect," Tomás replied, trying to downplay it. "I don't see why he should suffer so much for it."
"True, but you know Sam isn't exactly brave," Sunny added, with a mix of compassion and exasperation.
The rest of the morning passed calmly, but at lunchtime, when they met in the backyard, everything started to go wrong. Sam arrived with his typical submissive attitude, one that had always characterized him, but that day Tomás found unbearably irritating. A spark of annoyance, one he had never felt before, began to burn inside him.
"How did it go with my thing?" Sam asked, in his usual nervous tone.
Tomás looked away, searching for something to distract him, anything to avoid facing the moment. "I talked to Ani," he said, trying to sound casual, though he felt a huge weight in his chest. "She basically said that if you want an answer, you have to confess yourself."
He omitted the most painful part. He couldn't tell Sam that Anaís considered him a coward, nor that the conversation had been full of reproaches towards him. He had done his part, but he couldn't help feeling trapped in a dead end.
Sam frowned, and his usual nervousness began to transform into something more. "Are you sure you asked her right? Maybe she misunderstood."
Tomás felt a pang of irritation. "She didn't misunderstand, Sam. And the question was quite clear. Believe me, I already had enough problems asking her that... it wasn't easy."
"How hard can it be to do this favor for your friend?" Sam retorted, his tone bordering on accusation.
Tomás felt something break inside him. It was as if all the accumulated frustrations of the past few days, all the disappointments and humiliations, found an outlet at that moment.
"I already did it, I did my part," he replied, his voice firmer, harder. "Now you do what you think is best. Whether you decide to confess or not, that's your business."
"You're not telling me everything," Sam insisted, his tone now more challenging. "She told you something else, I know it. You two are close now. Suddenly she started calling you 'Tomy' and you call her 'Ani'. Plus, you sat at her table at lunchtime. I'm sure you didn't tell her anything, or worse, you told her something to make her reject me."
Tomás's anger exploded like a broken dam. He felt that burning sensation rise from his gut, that acidity that made him want to scream, to hit something, to unleash everything he had been accumulating.
"Stop talking nonsense!" he snapped, his voice trembling with rage. "I already did what you asked. Next time, do it yourself. How hard is it to tell a woman you like her?"
"How hard is it to be a good friend?" Sam yelled, clenching his fists. "Tell me the truth. Did you tell her I like her, or do you like her yourself and didn't tell her anything? Did you make me look bad?"
Tomás turned on his heels, ready to leave before losing complete control. "Leave me alone, Sam. I have nothing more to say to you."
But Sam didn't let him go. He grabbed his arm tightly, his hand trembling, but his grip firm. "Don't go! I'm not finished with you."
Tomás looked at him with a contained fury that threatened to overflow. "Let go of me, Sam. I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."
"Tell me what you told her!" Sam yelled, this time with a desperation he hadn't shown before.
"I already told you," Tomás retorted, shaking off his friend's grip. "She said she doesn't like cowards."
Sam's face contorted into an expression of pure rage. "Then you made me look bad with her," he shouted, raising his fist and throwing it at Tomás.
The blow was weak, but enough to split his lip. Tomás wiped the blood with the back of his hand, looking at his friend with a mixture of disbelief and contempt.
"Are you happy now?" he asked, his tone laden with sarcasm. "I warned you, Sam. Don't touch me again, or you'll regret it."
But Sam, blinded by his frustration, didn't listen. He threw a second punch, but this time Tomás was ready. He blocked the blow with his forearm and, without thinking twice, returned the punch with all the force of his accumulated rage.
Sam fell to the ground on his back, his nose and mouth bleeding profusely. Tomás looked down at him, without a hint of remorse. "You asked for it, idiot. I warned you. Now behave like a man and never speak to me again in your life."
He turned and walked away, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his body. He stopped in the bathroom to clean the blood from his lip and face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw the reflection of someone he barely recognized. Between the cut on his cheek, his broken lip, and the hatred he had felt, Tomás could barely believe what had just happened.
But deep down, he knew there was no turning back. His friendship with Sam was over, and everything else seemed to be crumbling around him.