One afternoon, as Lucas was eating lunch on the bench near the parking lot, he spotted Sergio wandering toward a nearby garden. Sergio seemed engrossed in sketching something in a notebook, using his left hand with surprising ease.  

On impulse, Lucas decided to approach him, sensing this could be his chance to learn more about the enigmatic custodian.  

“What are you up to, Jairo?” Lucas asked, leaning in slightly to catch a glimpse of the notebook.  

Sergio flinched, snapping the notebook shut. “Oh, Professor Amery! Uh… it’s nothing, really, just…” he stammered, shifting the pencil to his right hand, his face unexpectedly flushed. Lucas couldn’t help but find his flustered reaction oddly charming but kept those thoughts to himself.  

With a disarming smile, Lucas sought to ease his tension.  

“I’m just curious. What are you working on?”  

Sergio let out an exaggerated laugh to mask his nerves. “HAHAHA, HAHAHA! Oh, Professor Amery, please. It’s nothing special. I just… I like to draw sometimes, that’s all,” he said, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Just taking a little break.”  

Those words made Lucas widen his eyes, confirming a suspicion he’d had since the first time he saw the custodian. “Jairo” was his childhood friend. However, he decided to keep his cards close, pretending to go along with the moment.  

Sergio, realizing his mistake too late, tried to come up with the most convincing excuse he could about what he was doing. “Well, you see, actually... a student from the architecture faculty heard I’m good at drawing and asked me to sketch something for him.”  

“Uh-huh. Earning extra money by doing work for lazy students, Jairo?” Lucas teased, nodding toward the notebook. “I should report that... but I won’t, on one condition: Let me see it.”  

Sergio froze, unsure whether the professor was serious or joking. His hesitation lingered, but he reluctantly handed over the notebook, knowing he had no choice if he wanted to maintain his lie.  

Lucas opened it and was stunned. The drawing was astonishingly detailed: a sleek, futuristic reimagining of a building right in front of them, its sharp lines and imaginative elements making it appear almost alive.  

“This is incredible, Serg…” he caught himself, barely avoiding saying Sergio’s name as he glanced at the custodian. “You’re incredibly talented. Don’t waste your art on students who don’t deserve it.”  

The freckled man bit his lip, silently berating himself for the excuse.  

“Nah! It’s… it’s nothing special, Professor,” he mumbled, his gaze fixed on the ground.  

“Do you like art?” Lucas asked, his curiosity deepening.  

Sergio nodded faintly, a small smile breaking through his discomfort. “I always have.”  

The professor handed the notebook back with a newfound sense of connection, feeling this was the bridge he needed to cross the distance between them.  

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Lucas ventured, his tone soft and sincere. “But maybe… we could see an art exhibition together sometime. What do you think?”  

Sergio blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected proposal. Words failed him, and to cover his unease, he gave Lucas a light pat on the back before quickly retreating.  

“I think… I have to hand this in to someone. Anyway, I’ve got to go, Professor,” he said, his voice hurried.  

Lucas watched him leave, unsure if the custodian’s reaction was a polite refusal or nervous excitement. He couldn’t help but feel curious.

**  

Later that evening, Lucas finished a long day of teaching, wrapping up a night class with his mind heavy from exhaustion. He hurried to the faculty lounge to prepare an exam for the following day, distracted and eager to finish. In his haste, he forgot to pack his black notebook —a personal treasure where he recorded thoughts no one else had ever seen. The pages were filled with fragments of his childhood, memories of his life, and intimate details about his first friend.  

Not long after, Sergio entered the now-empty classroom to clean. As he worked, his eyes caught sight of the black notebook on the professor’s desk. Opening it to see who it belonged to, he discovered it was Lucas’s, with the professor’s name written neatly on the first page.  

He hesitated, fully aware it would be wrong to look further. Yet, curiosity gnawed at him. He convinced himself that he should only read the first page, nothing more —but a few lines were all it took to stop him in his tracks.  

The notebook contained deeply personal entries about a childhood friend Lucas had never forgotten, someone he wished he’d protected. The raw emotions and vivid descriptions brought a lump to Sergio’s throat. Unlike his friend, he had always been able to cry in solitude, and he felt his eyes welling up. Memories of his own childhood flooded back —memories of a friend who had been his refuge in a harsh, abusive world.  

Lost in thought, Sergio didn’t hear footsteps approaching. Lucas entered the classroom, freezing in place when he saw him holding the notebook.  

“Jairo?” Lucas said, startled.  

Sergio’s head shot up, panic written all over his face. He quickly placed the notebook back on the desk and stepped back, fumbling with his cleaning supplies.  

“G-good evening, Professor… Amery. Is this… yours?”  

The question was painfully obvious, and combined with his nerves, he stumbled over the professor’s chair, landing awkwardly on the floor —on his butt. His face burned with embarrassment.