I was getting home sick as hell. Missing home so bad it felt like someone had ripped a chunk out of my chest and left me with this weird hollow feeling that wouldn't go away.
Mr. and Mrs. Lee were the type of parents who disappeared before sunrise for work and came back when the rest of the world was already asleep. Classic American workaholics who probably forgot they had kids half the time.
America's wild, man. Like, I knew it would be fucking different from España. I expected the accent that makes everyone sound like they're in a cowboy movie, the red solo cups at every party, the fact that everything here is three times the size it needs to be - burgers, cars, even the fucking toilets. But no one warned me about the emptiness.
Back home in Leganés, you open your window and you see vida. Real life. Doñas hanging laundry while yelling gossip across balconies, little kids having full-blown meltdowns over fútbol matches, someone's tío fixing a beaten-up Seat while blasting Camela loud enough to wake the dead. And if you forget your wallet at the bar? No pasa nada, hermano. Your vecino's got you covered. People actually know you there - like, deeply know your whole fucking history, your family drama, your most embarrassing moments, that disaster haircut you had in 2018 that made you look like a rejected member of a boy band.
Yeah, sometimes they get all up in your business and talk too much, but at least they actually talk. At least there's noise. Life. Movimiento.
Here? I open the window and it's just... quiet. Eerily quiet. Like a zombie apocalypse happened and I missed the memo.
But then I saw her. Isabel, that absolute angel walking outside like she owned the whole damn neighborhood. She was wearing this mini skirt that should probably be illegal in several states, and I swear on my abuela's grave, she knew I was watching from the window. This girl was straight-up teasing me, putting on a show like she was auditioning for my personal fantasies.
"Lo juro por Dios, me voy a follar a esta chica," I muttered to myself, pressing my face against the glass like some kind of desperate pervert.
I had orientation and a bunch of other boring American school bullshit to deal with that day. Jeff wasn't home for once - probably off somewhere being an annoying little shit to other people - so there was actually some peace in the house. But I still missed home like crazy.
The thing is, I wasn't completely alone. Laura was there, and she knew.
Mate, this felt like a total setup. Like the universe was testing me or some shit, putting me in situations that would either make me a legend or get me kicked out of the country. And with my track record? It could honestly go either way.
Look, I don't think it's my problem if you're being dense about this story. You've read everything so far, and I can tell that you still doubt my skills as a storyteller. But here's the situation: Jeff was out doing whatever the hell Jeff does, Katherine was nowhere to be found, and I could hear Laura singing in her bedroom like some kind of siren trying to lure sailors to their doom.
Remember, I was this nerdy cabrón who wanted Isabel so desperately it hurt, but I had zero experience with girls. Absolutely none. And if I was going to have any shot with a goddess like Isabel, I needed practice. Don't judge me - this girl Laura had been giving me signals for weeks. It was obvious as hell, and I'm not completely stupid when it comes to reading the room.
"Hugo, make this shit happen, you fool," I muttered to myself, hyping myself up like some discount motivational speaker before walking over and knocking on her door.
"Hugo," she called from inside, and the way she said my name... joder, this chick knew damn well we were home alone and what that meant.
"Enter."
I walked in, and there she was - fresh out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around her body, doing her makeup in front of her mirror. The whole room smelled like vanilla and whatever expensive shampoo American girls use.
"What is it, Hugo?" she asked, and the way she was saying my name sounded like a horny teenager who'd been waiting for this moment. This was it. My time to shine.
"I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving," I said. *Hugo, you absolute fucking idiot.*
"Really?" she asked, getting up from her chair. She walked to the door, closed it with this soft click that sounded louder than thunder, then came back to where I was standing. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, her breath warm against my skin:
"Don't lie, Hugo. I know what you want, and I can make it easy for you."
How the hell was I supposed to survive this? I was still a virgin who didn't know what the fuck I was doing, and I was absolutely certain I was about to screw this up in the most spectacular way possible. I wasn't the experienced Spanish lover she probably thought I was. Despite wanting to get laid more than anything in the world, I honestly didn't know where this was going to lead or how it would end.
I'd always fantasized about Laura, but now that I had the actual chance, reality hit me like a truck. She was family. Jeff was like a brother to me. Mr. and Mrs. Lee had taken me in, treated me like their own son.
"We can just be fuck buddies, Hugo," she continued, pressing her body against mine. "I'd love to learn new things... I'm still a virgin, Hugo. Don't laugh."
Don't laugh? I was barely keeping myself from having a complete mental breakdown.
Jeff was my brother. Mr. Lee was like a father figure. Mrs. Lee was like a second mother. But joder, opportunity like this doesn't come around every day. For eighteen years, I'd been dreaming about moments like this, and here was this beautiful American girl offering herself to me with no strings attached. She was a virgin too, so there'd be no comparisons, no expectations I couldn't meet.
Horny Hugo González was about to make a decision that would change everything. But then my brain - that pendejo traitor - decided to kick in at the worst possible moment.
"Laura, I... mierda... I can't," I stammered, backing away like she was radioactive. "This is... this is jodidamente complicated."
She looked at me like I'd just told her Santa Claus wasn't real. "Hugo, what the hell?"
"Your family, they're... they're like my family now, ¿entiendes? Jeff is like my hermano, and your parents... Dios mío, they trust me. They gave me a home, and here I am thinking with my polla instead of my brain."
Laura's face went from confused to annoyed real quick. "Are you seriously giving me the family speech right now? While I'm standing here in?"
"Sí! I mean, no! I mean... ¡Coño!" I was speaking more Spanish than English at this point, which always happens when I'm having a complete mental breakdown. "Esto es una locura, Laura. I'm supposed to be the responsible exchange student, not the cabrón who hooks up with his host sister!"
"Host sister?" she laughed, but not in a good way. "Hugo, we're not related. We're both eighteen. This isn't some telenovela."
But I was already at the door, my hand on the handle like it was my lifeline. "I'm sorry, Laura. I'm so fucking sorry. You're incredible, and any guy would be loco to walk away from this, but I just... I can't."
And then I did the most pathetic thing imaginable - I literally ran out of there like my ass was on fire.
¡Qué pendejada! What kind of seventeen-year-old virgin runs away from a beautiful girl in a towel? Apparently, Hugo González, the world's most sexually frustrated idiota.
I slammed my bedroom door and threw myself face-first onto my bed, screaming into my pillow like a little kid having a tantrum. "¡Soy un imbécil! ¡Un completo imbécil!"
The worst part? I was already regretting it. My polla was staging a full rebellion against my brain, demanding to know what the fuck I thought I was doing. Here I was, the eternal virgin, and I'd just walked away from the perfect opportunity to finally get some experience before trying to impress Isabel.
"Estúpido, estúpido, estúpido," I kept muttering into my pillow. Francisco would've laughed his ass off if he knew his cousin had just cockblocked himself in the most epic way possible.
But deep down, beneath all the sexual frustration and regret, I fucking knew I'd made the right choice. The Lee family had been nothing but good to me, and I wasn't about to repay their kindness by turning their house into some kind of Spanish soap opera.
Still didn't make it hurt any less, though. My huevos were probably going to hate me for the rest of my life.