Young

When I went into the kitchen that morning, she was standing with her back to me in a T-shirt that barely covered her thighs. Three years change people a lot.

When the Master told her they were going out that day, something in Luna’s chest tightened. Not from fear, but from the anticipation only she knew.

I knew he was my friend’s father. I knew it was insane. But my feet took me anyway, mile after mile, to his door.

An adult chat was a bad idea at five in the afternoon. But when her name appeared and she said hi in that husky voice, it was already too late to close the window.

He arrived freshly separated, with a suitcase and too much free time. From the morning by the pool, I knew that week wasn’t going to be boring.

For three years I read every word he wrote without liking, commenting, or daring to do anything. Then something changed that night when his message appeared.

She burst out laughing, lowered her voice, and looked at me with that satisfied whore’s smile I already knew. I knew she was going to tell me everything she’d kept hidden.

When Lucía whispered her birthday fantasy to me, I knew there was no turning back: she wanted to be auctioned among our closest friends for one whole night.

When he opened the wrong door and saw me fresh from the shower, his eyes never looked anywhere else again. What happened that night wasn’t in anyone’s plan.

I crossed the park with my pulse racing, knowing that tonight the bully wouldn't settle for my panties—or the money I no longer had.

I was lying on the sofa waiting for sleep when I heard the door. I never imagined that night would be my first time—with the last person on earth I expected.

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.

She arrived looking at the floor, buttoned to the neck. It was she who gave the instructions as soon as they closed the door to room six.

Three years without seeing him, and the second he stepped back into the house I knew I couldn’t keep pretending what I felt was just sisterly love.

When we reached the harbor and she got off the bike, her hands were still on my waist. Neither of us pulled away right away.

Six years ago, I went into my older brother’s room one August night. I didn’t go to talk. I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I saw my ex kissing someone else at the bar. That night I crossed a line I’d never crossed before, and spent months charging for pleasure.

We were two married business partners, a pricey SUV, and two hundred kilometers ahead. They were twenty and had an attitude that changed everything.

No partner, no hurry. Just me, the dark, and the moans of a singer who’d been turning me on since the nineties.

Three days away, the house trashed after a party, and him in my bed, naked as if it were his. I should have thrown him out.