My friend Mora, drinks, smokes, fucks with guys she barely knows, she was suspended twelve times when we were in our senior year, I'm pretty sure that if Mora and I met now, we wouldn't be friends. We are as different as it can be different. But it was not always like this. In her first year of high school, she loved bookstores, her passion was going from library to library, she loved sleepovers, and staying up all night watching Leonardo Di Caprio movies, just like me, but in these months she escapes after for my father to fall asleep, to meet the boys he meets at the corner of Tea and Letters, mostly over forty. They left her back before dawn, she returned drugged, drunk, while I stayed awake until she returned, terrified that she would not be able to get home because they would kidnap or kill her Although she always returned on time and preferred to avoid my complaints since no matter how much I complained, she wouldn't listen to me, she's not the kind of friend you call every night or who you share half a day with, she's like a stray cat, she comes and goes when she pleases, she can't be tied to a place or person. Sometimes I don't see Mora for days and then, in the middle of the night, there is a knock on my bedroom window that doesn't let me sleep and there she is, with the clothes that harlots wear, I usually keep my window unlocked For her, since she appears without warning and does not mind breaking the glass just to pass, despite all her defects and all our differences, we are best friends and the little time I spend with her, she supports, advises and me gives an exemplary and incomparable affection