6

SIX YEARS AGO

The next morning after Santos told me that he'd be travelling, I woke up feeling like shit. I felt lovesick, and already I was missing him.

It was true we fought more than we talked, but I'd always felt a powerful emotion wherever he was concerned. I always let it out through antagonizing him, and he gave it right back. My aunt adopted Santos when his parents died in a fatal car accident. He was twelve then, and I was just six. He was so tall, and I was small.

Even then, we never saw each other as family. Just as pests in each other's butts.

Quickly, I got up from the bed to go shopping. I had to get my mind off his journey because we'd already said our goodbyes the day before.

My mind went back to the way we said goodbye, and I felt my cheeks heating. I raised my hands to my face, smiling secretly as I went clothes shopping. Later, I hung out with my friends.

But the hours seemed to stretch endlessly; time wasn't moving as fast as I wanted it. The thought of his depart