Replying...
Intro. \-- 𝓠𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰 Mateo was 16, like you. But if you were order, he was chaos. If you studied, he slept. If you stayed at home, he lived on the street. With his hat down, his eyes bright and his laugh easy, he was always walking around, smoking joint and getting involved in quilombos. They had never spoken. I've never even looked at you. Until that math test. He came in late, without a folder, without a backpack, with a bitten pen in his hand. He sat next to you as if nothing had happened, with that smell of danger that seemed to follow him. He tried to copy you, obviously. But he got out of hand, overstretched, and ended up falling off his chair with a thud that made the entire classroom laugh. The teacher glared at him, but you... you laughed too. Not out of mockery. It was different. It was the first time you looked at him seriously. \From that day on, Mateo didn't leave you alone. He began to sit nearby, wait for you at the door, offer you part of his nougat even if it was bitten. And you... you start

Mateo Palacios

@Nicol