Two

MATEO 

I entered the church and immediately spotted my friend, Daniel. We were classmates too, so seeing him there wasn't unusual. I walked over and shook his hand.

“You look stressed,” he said, studying my face. I waved him off. “I'm okay.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn't push it. Instead, he helped me arrange the chairs for choir practice.

Soon, more members began arriving. The church slowly filled with voices and footsteps as everyone settled into their places.

Our choir master eventually arrived and called us together.

“Everyone, warm up first.”

We followed his instructions as he led us through our vocal exercises before we started practicing the songs.

Across the church, I could see my mother with the women, talking and helping with their activities. My father was discussing something with some of the other men from the church.

Lucía was in the children's section, busy memorizing her Bible verses.

Everything felt familiar. The same church, same people and same routine. Hours passed before I even realized how late it had gotten.

Eventually, we finished the last song and began putting everything away.

“Goodnight, everyone.”

“Goodnight!”

People slowly began leaving, saying their farewells as they headed home.

I walked over to Daniel. “See you tomorrow,” I said. He smiled and pulled me into a quick hug. “Try not to look so stressed by then.”

I laughed. “I'll try.” We said goodbye, and Daniel headed off on his way. My family gathered outside and climbed into the car.

The moment I sat down, I let out a long, exhausted sigh. “You must be tired, Mateo,” my father said from the driver's seat.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I am.” I glanced toward Lucía, she was already fast asleep in her seat belt, completely unaffected by the long day. I smiled faintly. Lucky her.

I rested my head against the window as Dad started the car. The streetlights passed across the glass one after another as we drove through the quiet neighborhood.

I closed my eyes. I can't wait to get home, honestly, I don't think I've ever wanted my bed more.

We finally got home. I followed my mother into the kitchen while she took our dinner from the refrigerator. Together, we warmed everything up while Dad helped get the table ready. Once the food was ready, I went to wake Lucía.

“Lucía,” I whispered, gently tapping her shoulder. “Come on. Dinner.”

She stirred sleepily. “I'm tired…”

“I know. Come on.” I helped her to the dining room, and soon the whole family was sitting around the table.

We ate quickly. Everyone was exhausted from the day's activities, and there wasn't much conversation.

After dinner, we gathered for our night prayer. Once we finished, everyone went their separate ways, I headed upstairs immediately.

All I wanted was sleep. I entered my room, changed into my pajamas, and sat down on my bed. That's when I looked toward the window, the house next door stood quietly across from ours.

The new neighbor's house. I stared at it for a moment then I realized something. One of the upstairs windows faced directly toward mine.

That's his room. I wasn't sure how I knew maybe I was just guessing. I looked away, embarrassed at myself then...click.

I heard a window opening, my eyes immediately went back. The curtains across the way shifted, and a figure appeared.

Nikolai.

My heart suddenly started beating faster. Why am I nervous?

I quickly dropped backward onto my bed, lying flat on my back as though that would somehow make me invisible. I stared at the ceiling.

My heart was still racing, I stayed like that for what felt like forever, afraid to look toward the window again.

Eventually, exhaustion won. My eyes grew heavy and before I knew it, I had drifted into sleep.

Sunday morning. The most stressful day of the week. We woke up early as usual, said our morning prayers, and immediately began getting ready for church.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my clothes. I've always been a delicate-looking boy. I was lean, with a slender build, blonde hair, and hazel eyes. Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I could understand why people mistook me for a girl.

My mother sometimes complained about it. “Why do you look so much like a girl?” she'd ask.

Eventually, I started wearing oversized clothes to hide my slender frame and make myself look more like the kind of boy she expected me to be.

I looked over my choir outfit, making sure everything was in place.

“Where is everyone?” Dad called from downstairs.

I quickly grabbed my things, “Coming!”

Before leaving my room, my eyes drifted toward the window, it was still open. I hesitated and for a moment, I wondered if Nikolai was awake. I shook the thought away. 

Come on, Mateo. I hurried downstairs.

  We arrived at church early, as we always did. Soon, the cathedral began filling with people, and before long, the service started.

Everything went as it usually did. Prayers, singing and rejoicing. The familiar rhythm of Sunday.

During the choir session, I tried to focus completely on the music. Singing had always been complicated for me.

My voice was naturally higher and softer than most boys my age. Because of my appearance and my voice, people sometimes assumed things about me that weren't true.

I used to hate it. I used to wish my voice sounded deeper but our choir master, Michael, had helped me become comfortable with it.

“Don't fight your voice,” he once told me. “It's yours. Learn to use it.”

I never forgot those words. After the service, several parents approached me.

“Mateo, you have such a beautiful voice.”

“You sang wonderfully today.”

“You're becoming such a good example for the younger children.”

I smiled and thanked them, even though I sometimes felt uncomfortable with all the attention.

Eventually, the day came to an end. We returned home late, as usual.

After dinner, everyone went to bed. We had school the next morning, so there wasn't much time to stay awake.

I entered my room and sat on my bed. My eyes immediately went toward the window.

Across from me, Nikolai's window was still open. I stared at it then I noticed a shadow moving behind his curtains.

That's him. I couldn't see his face, but his silhouette was enough to tell that he was there. For some reason, I kept looking then I caught myself.

Why am I thinking about him so much?

I quickly turned away. He's just the new neighbor.

I pulled the blanket over myself and faced the other side of the bed but even with my eyes closed, I couldn't stop thinking about the boy across the street.