As I taste the candy and listen to Santiago chew his, I look up and see our little piece of sky, shaped like a rectangle and colored in shades of grey and purple. And, as the mint scent surrounds the yard of this strange house, the sun is setting in our gray Lima.

Santiago and Sandy ask if I want to play a bit, but I decide it would be better if I leave it for the next time. I tell them my shoes, pants, and shirt won’t let me play well—as if wearing comfortable clothes has ever help me in sports. But still, they both smile when they hear I’m coming back. At that moment, a question forms in my head: Are Santiago and Sandy going out together? That question brings others, too and I have to breath deeply a few times to ease the turmoil of emotions in my chest.

“Max, are you okay?” Sandy asks, worried.

“Yes, I’m fine. Well, I think it’s time for me to go home. See you tomorrow in school, Santiago. Bye!” I say, hurriedly. I want to leave as fast as I can and avoid them asking me more questions about the strange reaction I’m having. I leave them with the word “bye” between their lips and their hands raised, as if waving goodbye.

When I get home, my mother is almost done with the food. Today, the house smells like green spaghetti and papa a la huancaína—one of her specialties—but I’m not hungry. I avoid the questions my mother usually makes, and run by Lucy’s side. Lucy’s my baby sister, and she’s working on her maths homework right now; she hates maths, and is always asking me for help, but today, she doesn’t get the chance to even say my name. I go upstairs and lock myself in my room. I want to understand what’s happening to me, so I carefully analyze my behavior and reactions, and I conclude that I’m attracted to Santiago. I’m in love. I’m jealous. All these newly-discovered feelings become real as I put a name to them. I couldn’t ask if they were going out together because I was afraid of the answer. It was bigger than the wanting to know, maybe because, knowing the truth means the feelings of a guy like me would never reach Santiago.

Without realizing, I fall asleep and dream I’m playing badminton with Santiago in that big yard. I see him at the other side of the court, with his eyes on me, trying to read my clumsy movements. Suddenly, I hear the loud sound of the racket against the ball, and I know it’s going to come to me, full speed. The only thing I can do is cover my face with the racket, and close my eyes, unconsciously, but the feather never comes. I smell mint, and when I open my eyes Santiago’s face is in front of me, with only the racket strings between us. He comes closer, slowly.

I wake up.