While everyone walked to the front of the classroom and introduced themselves with big smiles, I realized that most of them already knew each other. My case was unusual: moving from a public elementary school to a private one. The difference was enormous.
"Next, you, boy."
At that moment, Mrs. Leticia pointed out that it was my turn. I stood up and walked to the front a bit nervously, but I quickly calmed myself and began my introduction.
"My name is Leonardo García. I studied at Nuevo Amanecer Elementary School."
As soon as I mentioned the school I came from, my new classmates started whispering among themselves. Noticing this, I stopped my introduction and looked at them carefully.
Many of them began laughing while pointing at my shoes. Then I realized: despite my new uniform, I could not hide my poor background. These shoes had been given to me last year, and since they were not completely worn out yet, I was still using them to save that expense. But when I walked, the soles lifted a little at the back.
"Continue, Mr. García."
Mrs. Leticia urged me to go on after noticing my prolonged pause.
"That's all, ma'am."
Saying that, I returned to my seat, still feeling the sneaky and mocking stares of some classmates. At that moment, I felt a terrible urge to cry, but my father had taught me from a young age that men do not cry. So I lowered my head onto my desk and held back my tears with all my strength.
That was how I realized that in this world there are different kinds of people.
As time passed during my eighth-grade year, I gradually adapted to the hostile environment where I studied. Surprisingly, I made two friends: one was the most popular boy in the class, and the other was the bully.
You could say it was my survival instinct that led me to get close to them. That way, I managed not to be isolated or intimidated at school. I became someone no one rejected, but no one allowed to get too close either. Also, being friends with the one who intimidated everyone meant I had to learn how to fight, since fights were a daily routine.
In the classroom next door was, in my eyes, the prettiest girl in the school. Her name was Cristina Betancourt. But soon reality hit me hard.
Just as I was starting to fall in love, I saw the girl of my dreams in my friend's arms. My mind went blank for a few moments. Then, in my selfishness, I began to see Cristina as a slut. At twelve years old, I came to believe that women would only go after those who were more handsome or those who had a lot of money.
That was how I finished the school year, having learned big lessons. Then I swore that the next year would be better.
April 2006
Mrs. Leticia began the same introduction routine. This time it was easier, since almost all of us already knew each other. There was only one exception: a girl who came from a nearby town called San Marcos. Her name was Gabriela Sandoval. She had long red hair, a sharp nose, and very beautiful thin lips.
Hurt by Cristina the year before, I simply labeled Gabriela as out of my league and paid her no attention. That year I had a new group of friends. These friends could truly be called bad boys: actual members of delinquent gangs. They beat and robbed everyone openly, believing they owned the school.
That year I also learned a big lesson. My behavior, which had always been guided strictly by my father, slowly changed for the worse. I realized that the meaner I became, the more respect I received from my classmates. Those who once looked down on me now tried to please me like dogs.
"Leo, let's eat together."
One day Cristina approached me in a friendly way and, with a smile, invited me to spend recess with her.
"Uh, alright, let's go."
Even though I despised her inside, I accepted with a big smile, because she was still very pretty. It's worth mentioning that by then she was no longer dating my friend, but I never had any intention of making her my girlfriend, since I now saw her as something dirty: very beautiful, but dirty.
It was like finding the toy of my dreams on the street, but used. So I decided to play with it for a while before throwing it away.
At that moment, my life was heading in a bad direction, and I didn't realize it at all.
My story with Cristina lasted a few months. One day she told me she was changing schools, and honestly, I felt a bit sad. I had grown somewhat fond of her, but after some time I forgot about her. Apparently, she wasn't that important.
In the middle of ninth grade, an unprecedented event occurred that would straighten my life out for a while. My delinquent group of friends stabbed a classmate, nearly killing him.
"Leo, you're lucky you weren't with them. Otherwise, you'd be in big trouble."
The redhead, Gabriela, told me this with a hint of concern in her voice.
"Lucky me. Thanks, Gabi. If it weren't for listening to you, I'd be in serious trouble now."
During this time, for some strange reason, Gabriela was my best friend.
"Well, just so you know, I've told you many times to stay away from those guys, because otherwise you're going to end up very badly."
At that moment I was terrified. If I had been involved in that incident, the consequences would have been terrible. My father was a very strict man, and I'm sure he would have beaten me badly. At thirteen years old, I feared him more than anything else.
After that, I decided to go back to being a good kid and managed to recover my grades for the year, which had almost caused me to repeat it. From then on, the school year passed without much happening, except for a small episode at the end.
"Next year I'm changing schools. The next time we meet, I hope you remember me. You should have asked me to be your girlfriend."
The girl had tears in her eyes as she looked at me. Then she hugged me and left without another word. Who knew that years later I would run into her in the most unexpected way possible, but after that encounter she would hate me to death.
We entered the year 2007, and thus the vacations arrived.
I remember that in my town, Rocafuerte, an incident occurred that shocked everyone for a long time, especially me, since I was very close to one of those involved.
In the morning, when everyone was heading to work, on a little-traveled street, the body of a young man was found, decapitated.