My name is Eduardo, but everyone calls me Edu. I have brown eyes, short black hair, and I fall into that dangerous category of "not handsome, not ugly"… just average. I almost always carry an easy smile on my lips — I guess it's my way of hiding what I feel.
I'm 17 years old and I live in an apartment with my dad. He spends more time working than at home. After my mom passed away, I learned early on how to take care of myself. Cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, paying bills… it all became part of my routine. My dad even gave me access to his credit card to handle the expenses. He trusts me. And I make sure never to disappoint him.
But if there's one thing that truly makes my heart race, it's soccer.
You know that classic dream every boy has? A packed stadium, the crowd chanting your name, wearing the jersey of a big club… I'm one of those. I always have been. I train every day as if my life depends on it. And maybe it really does. This weekend, I have a tryout for an important team. My chance. My moment.
Maybe that's why I decided to do something different that night.
I decided to prepare a special dinner. Something symbolic. As if I were marking the beginning of a new phase. I took a shower, got dressed, stood in front of the mirror, and put on a confident smile.
— Hey there, handsome — I said to my reflection.
I started laughing at my own silliness and left the apartment.
When I closed the door, I heard a noise next to me. I turned my head… and there she was.
Amanda.
My neighbor.
Brunette, curly hair that seemed to have a life of its own, hypnotizing green eyes, and an hourglass figure. My first crush. The kind of woman who's every man's dream… imagine for a teenager like me.
She saw me and gave me a smile that seemed to light up the entire hallway.
— Hi, Edu — she said.
For a second, I completely lost myself in her eyes.
— Hi, Amanda — I managed to reply, trying to sound normal.
— Going somewhere?
— Yeah… I think I'm going to make something special for dinner. So I'm heading to the supermarket.
She smiled even wider.
— What a coincidence… I was thinking the same thing. Want to go together?
My brain simply stopped working.
— Whatever you want, Amanda.
She let out a soft, amused laugh, and I felt my face grow warm.
We walked side by side down the hallway, talking about simple things — food, recipes, the heat this week. But to me, it felt like something much bigger. Every word she said mattered. Every smile was a victory.
And maybe this is where the story gets complicated.
Amanda turns 34 next month.
And she's married.