Female Friends

She walked into the classroom slowly, her face pale and a flash of pain on her face when she sat down that she couldn’t hide. It took me days to get the truth out of her.

When Sofía lowered herself into the chair and I saw her face twist in pain, I knew the flu was a lie and that what had happened was far worse than I imagined.

He was my best friend’s boyfriend: hot, shy, religious. Too perfect for me not to do something about it.

I was fifteen when I caught them the first time. Now, at twenty-two, I can’t look at those memories the same way.

I’d been fantasizing about her for months. When she came down from the stage and put her mouth on mine, I understood that fantasy was never going to disappear.

The villa was perfect for an affair: four bedrooms, husbands fishing offshore, and two men due at seven. Until the gate rang at six.

When my roommate told me, “Take me with you,” I knew that night was going to cost her more than her shyness. What I didn’t imagine was that he’d show up.

I’d spent a month dreaming of seeing him again when my roommate confessed she was jealous of me. That same night I took her with me to the rave.

We went out looking for an alley and came back with a secret. Some Fridays change you without asking permission.

Sofía had spent years imagining what that night would be like. She never imagined Camila would be there, or that Rodrigo would want her to stay.

The club queue smelled of weed and sweat. My flatmate squeezed my hand, not really knowing what she was doing there. I just kept thinking about finding him again.

She took another sip of wine, looked at me with that smile that means a confession is coming, and started telling me what really happened that night in the rented house.

I was fifteen and didn’t know what I was seeing. Now, at twenty-two, every memory of those afternoons takes on an entirely different meaning.

I’d spent twelve years waiting for Valeria to look at me like that. That night she finally did, but not in the way I’d imagined.

When Valeria came back to class after several days, I saw the flash of pain when she sat down. I knew the “flu” was an excuse.

When I went downstairs to the kitchen it was three in the morning. He was sitting there with a cup in his hand, bare-chested, looking at me as if he’d been waiting for me.

Valentina had been looking at her differently all day. When the last guest left, the three of them went up to the suite and the silence said it all.