Rafael had checked his things at least five times and was considering a sixth. He was having his breakfast in the living room of his house, listening to his cereal (which claimed to be "radical" as if cornflakes were anything more than just corn, unlike Fandangos) while Thomas, sitting across from him, flirted shamelessly with Maristela. There was no peace in his life.
At the end of the previous day, his tormentor had shown up with his school bag and wearing his pajamas, which consisted of a large shirt and micro shorts.
Micro was an understatement. Rafael had a traumatic experience because of that tiny piece of clothing: A few weeks ago, he had woken up in the middle of the night to get some water, and when he returned, he found Thomas lying with his legs wide open. It was then that Rafael discovered Thomas slept without underwear. The sight of Thomas' member escaping from the side haunted his mind. When confronted about it, his friend only laughed and said:
— "Lil' guy wanted to escape!"
They ended up in a fistfight. But that happened a while ago, and his mental scars were starting to heal. That is, until he saw Thomas getting ready to sleep at his house again. Fortunately, no further incidents occurred to damage Rafael's mental health, except for the moment he woke up in the middle of the night, half-asleep, and saw Thomas sitting there, staring at him with the most idiotic smile possible.
His scream echoed into the night, and as he breathed heavily, hearing Thomas' laughter, which sounded like a pig being led to slaughter, his mother slept peacefully.
Maristela was already prepared for any absurdity and had hidden a powerful set of earplugs in her bedside drawer. That was her little secret.
— "Woke up, Sleeping Beauty?" asked Thomas, still red from laughing so hard.
— "What is your problem?"
— "Revenge!"
— "What? That doesn't make sense! You don't make sense! You son of a bitch!"
— "Remember the last time you and the boys slept over at my place?"
Rafael paused for a moment, then the sweet memories of his tormentor's terrified screams flooded his mind. He, Tyson, and Guilherme had waited for Thomas to fall asleep, then placed candles around the room and covered themselves with sheets, each holding some kind of religious object. They woke Thomas up, pretending to perform a ritual on him!
What a wonderful day, Rafael thought fondly. He wasn't sure how Sheila didn't check on the source of the screams, but then again, Sheila had received a soundproofing headset from his mother.
— "Now I've had my revenge!"
— "Great! Can we sleep now? How long were you watching me?"
— "About two hours."
— "Dude! I might not have even woken up!"
— "Oh, you would've. You've got an old man's bladder, peeing all night! It was just a matter of time."
And then, in a sudden move, Thomas grabbed Rafael's black school bag and opened it. Watching the blatant invasion of his privacy, Rafael sat back down, feeling the heat of anger rising.
— "It's just school supplies in here!"
— "Because we're going to school tomorrow, you idiot!" Rafael snatched his bag back, checking to make sure all his books were still inside.
— "You're so stressful! We're starting our first year of high school, we need to impress the girls!"
— "Girls!" Rafael stopped and began laughing loudly. "You sound like some weird uncle from the '80s! Stuck in the past much?"
— "Oh, oh," Thomas slowly brought his hand to the spot where he had received a hickey a few days ago, smiling cruelly. "You're too pure to understand what it means to be an adult. We've got our own way of talking."
Rafael fell silent again. The hickey incident was a milestone in Thomas' life... it would be in any virgin's life. And to make things worse, Thomas had become unbearable (more so than usual), forcing Rafael to take precautions, which led to a mock war involving spiky seed pods. Both of them ended up covered in bruises, and Rafael made sure to hit Thomas on the neck as many times as possible. The hickey disappeared among the painful welts.
Nothing else happened the rest of the night, and now they were back at breakfast.
— "Thank you so much, Maristela," said Thomas in a seductive tone. "What a ma-ra-ve-lous bread. Did you make it yourself?"
— "It's called Pullman bread," Rafael muttered, listening to his "radical" cereal crunching in his mouth.
— "But," Thomas continued, undeterred, "you must've picked the softest one."
It was impossible not to admire Thomas' lack of shame. It was surprising, sad, but still surprising. And yet, someone that clueless was ahead of Rafael when it came to girls.
Maristela laughed heartily and excused herself when her phone rang. Watching her leave with his eyes, Thomas turned back to Rafael and said:
— "With a mom like that..."
— "I know, I know, you'd breastfeed until 30. You've said that like 500 times." Rafael cut him off indifferently; he had other things on his mind.
— "What's up with you, godson?"
— "Go to hell!"
— "Is that any way to talk to your father?"
Thomas winced in pain after Rafael kicked him hard in the shin under the table. What a great way to start the first day of school, Rafael thought as he watched his friend suffer.
— "Okay, seriously," Thomas said, his eyes watering from the pain, "what's with the face?"
— "What if Cecilia got a boyfriend over the break?"
— "That's a possibility," Thomas commented, stroking an imaginary beard.
— "With friends like you, who needs enemies?"
— "I'm just saying!" Thomas began defensively. "It could happen! Besides, we might not even see her, anyway."
— "What?" Rafael dropped his spoon on the table, sending milk flying. "You said she'd be in the same class as us."
— "Well, maybe I didn't phrase it right."
Seeing Rafael's face darken, Thomas hurriedly continued, not wanting another kick to the shin.
— "I just assumed she would be! After all, she's been with us since preschool."
It was too late; the damage was done. Thomas knew it. He braced for the kick, when a heavenly voice saved him.
— "Boys!" It was Maristela, already in the car. "Let's go, or you'll be late!"
"What perfect timing," thought Thomas as he jumped up, eager to leave the kitchen.
— "We're coming!"
And so, Rafael sat alone, veins burning with rage. His foot stopped just millimeters away from where Thomas' shin had been.