That summer, Leonel scores the game-winning goal.
That summer, someone breaks Leonel's leg.
Everyone saw the video; there's no doubt that Esteban Güemes, the team captain, orchestrated the dirty attack. What no one knows is that there's a lot more t...
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He left the bathroom several minutes after the bell had ceased its raucous announcement that classes were starting. He had Chemistry at that hour, and the teacher always took attendance at the beginning, so there was no point in rushing to the classroom: there would be a capital 'L' scribbled next to his name on the attendance sheet, one way or another.
He rubbed his temple again, grimacing in pain. The area no longer throbbed with the same intensity, but it still demanded attention with occasional stabs too sharp to ignore. He knew from experience that the pain would get worse before it subsided.
"Are you all right?" a sweet voice asked.
Leonel turned his head to meet María's beautiful eyes. They were large and framed by false eyelashes that made them striking, a feature that was enhanced by the contrast with the rest of her small features: a heart-shaped mouth painted red, cheeks covered with false blush and a cute, upturned nose. Together with her artificially styled curls and the blue dress she wore, the girl looked like one of those porcelain dolls that Leonel's mother had cherished since she was a child.
He opened his mouth to respond, but could only make lip movements without forming words. He must have looked like a fool in front of the most spectacular girl in the school. Hell, maybe the most spectacular in the city. And for the past two months, Esteban's ex.
That was dangerous territory.
"What happened to you?" María asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
She was carrying three large, thick folders, which she clutched to her chest as she approached to examine Leonel's forehead.
"It looks painful."
"Oh, um..." He cleared his throat. "You know how I am. I like to keep my relationships stable."
María gave him a puzzled look, though she smiled politely. He didn't blame her; Leonel felt the urge to backtrack and change his comment. In his head it made sense, seemed like a good joke: keeping all your relationships stable meant not losing the school rivalries. Get it? Ha-ha?
No one could blame him for being nervous. María had that effect on people; her opinion was the stronghold of the entire school, even influencing the older students.
She took a deep breath and exhaled with a kind of amused but incredulous sigh.
"As usual, I don't understand a word you're saying, Leo."
"But you're smiling, that's what counts," he remarked with a shrug.
"True..." María's smile widened.
Leonel sensed a final pause approaching, the kind of silence that effectively ends a conversation, so he hurried to ask:
"Why aren't you in class?"
"Oh! I'm on my way. The administration asked me to pick up these folders for Professor Moyer." She lifted them slightly to show them as if Leonel couldn't see them in her hands.
