Submitted by my son's friend

It was autumn of 2001. My son Santiago was 18 years old and in his last year of high school. He had always been athletic and quite popular among his peers. His mother and I had been divorced for almost five years. Paula, my ex-wife, had remarried shortly after the separation. I, on the other hand, remained single.

Since the divorce, Santiago would come to stay with me on weekends and for two weeks during the summer. We lived in the same city, just about six kilometers apart. I was 23 years old when he was born, and now that he was about to turn 18, I felt older than I actually was, at 41 years old.

Our relationship had always been good. I was never a strict father. Paula was the one who usually imposed discipline. I preferred to keep a low profile, without conflicts. I had always been reserved. Paula used to say that I was a coward, someone submissive. Maybe she wasn't entirely wrong.

I tried to stay in shape, and to be honest, I succeeded. I still had all my hair, I didn't have that middle-aged belly that many men drag around without remedy. More than once, someone was surprised to learn that I had a teenage son.

One Friday, a few weeks after classes started, Santiago brought two friends home from school. He had his own key; I had always wanted him to know that this space was his too, that he could come whenever he wanted.

When I arrived, they were in the living room, music playing and backpacks scattered all over the place. Santiago introduced me to Gabriel and Mateo. The three of them were on the soccer team, and it was evident: young bodies, firm, full of energy.

Gabriel caught my attention immediately. He had dark brown hair, somewhat disheveled, eyes of a light brown color that contrasted with his sun-tanned skin, and a smile that stuck in my memory. I was surprised to learn that he was already 19 years old. He was tall, at least 1.80 meters. Mateo, on the other hand, was of similar height to Santiago and had that same disheveled haircut that seemed to be in fashion among them.

There was something about Gabriel that I couldn't quite identify, a different energy, a way of moving or looking that felt... out of place, or perhaps simply out of the ordinary. That night we ordered pizza, and while everyone laughed and talked about things their age, I caught him staring at me several times. They weren't casual glances. They were long, as if he was trying to decipher something in me.

Before leaving, Santiago mentioned that they planned to go to the mall the next day. I just nodded, but I was left thinking about the presence Gabriel had left in me.

On Saturday morning, I woke up early, as usual. I took a long shower, put on my old blue robe, and prepared a cup of coffee. While I sat down to think about what to have for breakfast, the doorbell rang. It was Gabriel.

I was surprised to see him alone. I thought Santiago and Mateo would be with him, since they had m...