sweet lover » f.torres

cinco

April 25, 1999

Fernando walked inside the school gym, a wide grin splitting his charming face into two. His arm hooked with Catalina, many glares were sent their way.

Prom was a huge thing, any teenager could tell that, and Fernando knew that the only person fit enough for his standards for a date was his best friend, for they were as close as ever, and never would there be an awkward moment with her around. Catalina had the same thoughts, and all of the girls in the room whispered furiously about them behind her back.

It was no lie that Fernando had grown to be a shockingly handsome young teen, with his dirty blonde hair, soft brown eyes, pale skin, plump lips, and heavily freckled face. Every girl wished nothing more to rip Catalina off his arm and take her place.

Smartly dressed in a black suit, Fernando smiled down at her, "You look hermosa, Catalina."

And she did. Her hair was neatly pinned in an elaborate bun, and she showed off her thin figure in a dazzling peach collar neck dress that reached the floor, silver sparkles adorning the torso. Her chocolate eyes seemed wider than ever with the minimal mascara and thin eyeliner she had applied, glossing over her rosy lips with a baby pink layer.

She grinned back, "And you look guapo, Fernando."

He hummed in delight, leaning down a bit to kiss her cheek sweetly.

Walking over to the group they got along somewhat with, Fernando whispered quietly, "Did you know that I signed my first professional contract with Atlèti this morning?"

"No way," she gasped, "That's brilliant, Fernando, I'm so proud of you," she squealed happily, squeezing the life out of him.

"Thank you," he laughed gently, unaware that Olalla and her stuck up crew were approaching them.

"Catalina, may we speak to you for a second?" Olalla asked in her sickly sweet voice, already grabbing her by the forearm without her consent, dragging her away from her best friend. Slightly intimidated by the extremely gorgeous girl, poor Catalina could do nothing but nod her head along.

Only half an hour later did they emerge, with a red-faced Catalina and smirks drawn on their faces.

Stumbling dejectedly in her heels, she made her way to her best friend.

"Are you okay?" he frowned, spotting the signs immediately.

"Sí, estoy bien," she nodded unconvincingly.

"You love me, right? I'm your best friend, right?"

"Yes you are, Fernando, and you know it," she sighed.

He shot her a straight look in the eyes, pleading her, "Then tell me what's wrong, Catalina."

"Perhaps when the time is right."

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