To Whom It May Concern

Chapter 1

JUAN'S POV

The summer of 2016 was hot.

And no, it wasn't in a "late afternoon swim in the lake" way.

In reality, it was hot in the way that everyone believed the conspiracy theory that somewhere on earth was on fire and that fire was caused by global warming.

I just thought hell had refused to remain six feet under.

We lounged around in our swimwear so much that everyone around the neighborhood permanently looked like they were on the way to the beach.

I had traveled to America for the summer, escaping Uncle Julian and his chaotic household. In the United States, no one was judging me really and my parents allowed me to lounge on every surface I could find, so things were bearable gladly.

But now, I was back in Spain and remained holed up in my steaming sauna of a room.

It was the last day before school started tomorrow morning.

I was sprawled across my bed, my eyes unfocused as I stared blankly at the light blue walls. My eyes caught one of the posters on the wall; an obscenely photographed image of Shakira, clad in a sexy white bikini.

I scoffed loudly as I stared at her face.

It was another reminder that this was not my room. It belonged to Uncle Julian's first son, Alejandro, who had gone off to college the summer before I had moved in. I was still an outcast here and I knew that even when I leave, the house wouldn't miss my presence all that much.

Still and albeit surprisingly, I found myself a little excited for tomorrow.

I looked forward to autumn and its mahogany hue and balmy evenings. I knew I would hate the amount of sweeping I would have to do since it was my chore to keep the driveway clean. I also despised Uncle Julian's loud voice in the evenings, roaring because it was the start of football season.

Still, it was freaking hot.

It was weird since I was usually glum when summer was coming to an end, seeing as it brought about the rain.

September would come, with its gloomy clouds and stormy skies. Which meant I had to be in Barcelona because I had to go to school.

It was times like this I found myself missing my parents and cursing whatever luck followed me.

It was certainly bullshit and I needed to have a little talk with my guardian angel.

Out of all the high schools I applied to in the last summer of middle school, I had only managed to get into one.

Sure, it was one of the most prestigious schools in the country with a low acceptance rate. And I knew that I was lucky to have even been accepted, not to talk of the amount of money my parents were saving, thanks to the scholarship I had been offered.

Still, returning to the International Academy of Barcelona was the last thing I wanted right now. I always twisted my tongue speaking Spanish, regretting every poorly enunciated word that came out of my mouth whenever that happened. Luckily, knowing how to speak English was an important skill here, so the school made speaking the language compulsory during school hours.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the case all the time so I still barely had any conversations seeing as everyone spoke whatever they wanted after. I was already socially awkward, so not being able to speak the same language as everyone else was horrid enough for my anxiety.

I was an outcast there, just like I was everywhere else.

It wasn't like I didn't want to fit in. I just couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.