Chapter Five

I woke up feeling a presence in the room. I turned on the lights and looked everywhere but there was no one. They would be my imaginations. She hadn't been able to sleep very well so she was exhausted. I kept tossing and turning in bed, feeling bad. Negative thoughts kept running through my head and I hated that feeling of fighting myself.

I went downstairs in my pajamas to the kitchen, wishing I had a hot coffee that would wake me up a bit. My father was already there, holding the newspaper for the day while Mom made a big breakfast. Too much breakfast.

-What are you doing? -Asked. She turned around smiling.

-I had thought it would be nice to have breakfast all together before your first day of official class. She, "she commented as she turned some pancakes in the pan.

-Mom, I am not going to eat so many calories at this time or pretend we are a happy family.

-Do not be silly! If you love waffles!

-They loved it. Small. With about ... seven years? Now I am happy with my coffee.

-Come on, Luna. Don't be like that to your mother. My father murmured without even looking at me.

-Oh, sorry. I must be nice, right? Like you yesterday.

-I am not going to talk about that subject again.

-Can you know what that boy did to make you look like this?

-Luna, I don't want you to have anything to do with my patients so the topic is over.

-Patient?

-Yes, what do you think that boy was doing at home if not? -The truth is that she had not even thought about it but it made more sense.

-According to you, going to the psychologist is not a bad thing.

-And it's not but that boy is not good. He is not someone with whom he wants you to share your free time precisely.

-And that's up to you, right? I'm older to decide with whom I want to share my time, just like you when you decided to share your time with a ...

-Now it is OK! Mom yelled, dropping a plate on the counter. "Luna, grab your things and go to class."

-Seriously? Now is it my fault?

-Yes. Now it is OK. You better kill that character against your father and fix things. In the meantime I don't want to hear you again.

-Brilliant. Damn, mom. Then don't worry about your daughter not speaking to you. -I got up and went to my room angrily.

The rest of the day was just as bad for me. Everything seemed to explode in my face, except Dylan. With him I managed to calm down. The girls from the day before didn't stop bothering me in class. They threw things at me and laughed at me, and unsurprisingly, no teacher did anything to prevent it. It seemed that they were untouchable. They were waiting for me in the courtyard but I was smart and hid in a physics laboratory classroom. I took out a book and started reading until the doorbell rang to get me out of there.

At the end of the day I could see Dylan leaning out of his window. He motioned for me to go to the backyard and I did. I didn't know exactly what was wrong with him, why he was going to therapy or why my father had become like this, but I didn't want to ask him either. I was too pissed off with them to agree with them and avoid the only boy who treated me right.

From then on we spent our afternoons criticizing how pathetic people our age were. He would tell him about the things that happened to me in high school and he would give me ideas to leave me alone. He also told her absolutely everything about my parents, how they made me feel and how angry I was with them. We listened to music and… we connected.

I found out that the girl I spit on is a drug addict. She apparently organized awesome parties at her house and bought everything for people to consume. That was the clue that led us to come up with a plan to give them a little scare.

-Tell her you have drugs in your house, bring her to the basement and I'll take care of scaring her. - Dylan commented to me.

-And what do you intend to do to scare her?

-Leave that to me.

-Voucher. It will be fun. -I said smiling.

At the end of the afternoon we would sometimes walk through a lonely neighborhood close to ours. I found out that Dylan was the son of the neighboring edge. He was not very funny to me, but apparently he had the same opinion as I did about his mother.

-I don't pay much attention to saying ... my sister is sick and pays more attention to her. But I don't care, I know how to take care of myself.

-Wow ... I'm sorry about your sister ...

-Do not worry. It's no big deal.

-So you don't need anyone, huh?

-Well, people have always been my… enemy. Everyone has hurt me, always. However, with you it is different. You are like me.

-May...

I liked hearing him say that everything was different with me. I felt that I was part of something, that someone understood me and that is something that I did not usually feel.

At night, when I couldn't sleep, Dylan would magically appear at my window and I would go down to the basement to see him. It became a custom to spend the nights there.

Sometimes he would try to scare me by telling me horror stories and I assumed he was doing it to get me closer to him. He didn't even know how it worked, no one had ever liked it.

-I'm not afraid of anything. Don't try to scare me. -I said sure of myself.

-No? Are you sure? -She said laughing.

-Safe.

-Okay ... I like that.

The following days were strange. She was not used to trying to let people know that I was "selling drugs." Luckily for me everything went well. The three girls stopped me in the hallway and were very polite to me. They told me that they were having a party and that they had found out that I had material.

-Are you inviting me to your party? -I asked them confused.

-Well ... if you sell us good material you can come.

-Can I bring someone? -They looked at me as if they didn't think I had someone to invite.

-Yeah right. But you have ... right?

-Yes Yes. Come to my house tonight, go in the back straight into the basement and I'll give it to you.

-Agree.

They had fallen into the trap. Now I just had to talk to Dylan and plan something so that they would leave me alone.