Curly season

Part 4

Nick

"Look for something stupid in your pants." Ha! I keep laughing to myself as I drive home.

I completely forgot, while I was talking to Curly, that I had promised to come to Maria to
calm her down, because she was very upset about the fact that
one of her students saw us. After all, it was she who asked me to catch up with the girl, so that I
would put my authority on her. If only she knew that all this nonsense about my power doesn't work with her.

Maria and I met outside of school, in one of the night clubs, and then
crossed paths a couple of times. And here's the bad thing – they sent her to our school to
practice, and I took her here, and I couldn't resist, and embodied the dirty fantasy
of any teenager. Yes, somehow it was awkward, I hope that Curly will keep
his word, I would not like to substitute Maria.

At home, I decided to sleep, because I was completely exhausted during the day.
I reach for my watch to set the alarm and find the phone on my bedside
table. HER. Damn it, I'd completely forgotten that I needed to give it back to her.

I smile again, thinking of HER.

I decided to turn it on, not knowing why. Apparently, the SIM card was already
locked, "no network" was displayed on the screen. The screen saver still
showed a picture of her with her head thrown up, as if she was basking
in the sun with her eyes closed. She has them, by the way, green, colors
sea waves, I noticed it on the first day. As I stared at her portrait, the
memory of that day in the square came back to me, and my fingers lit up with the memory
of touching her skin.

"Hey, calm down," I say to myself. Yes, of course, I realize that I gave too much with this
trick. Tim was already lecturing me all week, saying that they can put me in jail,
the girl, unlike me, is still underage. I knew it myself at the time, but I wanted to teach her a lesson, and I couldn't think of a better way. By the way, she is in the ninth grade with Tim's little sister.

Tim is the voice of my mind, always with a cold head, but with a warm heart.
We have been friends since childhood.

When my mother passed away four years ago after a long
illness, my world began to collapse, and I was losing myself, it was Tim who was there for me.

My father experienced grief in his own way, plunged headlong into work and
practically did not appear at home. I was left to my own devices when I was still in the
middle of puberty, and I was left to deal with my own pain and fears.
I found solace in alcohol, which I then tried for the first time with the help of the older
guys from our yard and began to lead a marginal lifestyle.

Tim...Tim simply continued to be close to me, did not turn away like
some people, endured my spree, my antics, covered for me at school and in front
of my father. As if he understood my condition and simply gave me time to live my grief
in my own way, while, of course, sharing his philosophical reflections and
offering his friendly shoulder when it was absolutely necessary. If it wasn't
for him, I do not know where I would be right now.

Although my "recovery" was facilitated by another event,
which I try to remember less and less. But it's hard, because I never
fully recovered and I never got over my guilt about what happened
back then.

Tim supported me again, not letting me go completely mad.

So gradually my father and I "came back" to life.

We began to learn to live without those who were so dear to us.

"I'm sorry, my son. I was so wrapped up in my grief that I didn't even notice
how much you were suffering. I was so weak that I couldn't give you my shoulder and
you had to deal with everything on your own."

I remember the dialogue with my father, when we spent the whole evening, like unmanly men,
crying with him in our arms, regretting everything that we had done.

Oh, if my mother was around, she would definitely find something to say, how to comfort me.
As only she could do.

We miss you so much, Mom...