Monica quickly dismissed them and told Sara to go and enjoy the festival, as she had already more than helped them. The girl didn't think twice and after stripping off her witch's robe to reveal the jeans, sweater and jacket she wore underneath, she grabbed her two friends and left. They took a short walk around the stall area, but still immersed in the potion’s effects, the brightness of the lights added to the luminous tattoos drawn on the faces of hundreds of people was overwhelming, so they bought some grilled sausage sandwiches and went to a quieter place. That place was the park.

“How long do the effects of the potion last?” Dave asked as they strolled along the dirt paths.

Just ahead of them, two children were playing at pointing at the pictures on the tree trunks. A few meters away their parents were following them with watchful eyes, smiles on their faces as they appreciated the innocence and excitement of childhood. They did not see what their children could see.

“It depends on each person. A few minutes, a few hours, this is not maths,” said Sara with a shrug.

“What I don't understand is how your sister does it. It can't be a hallucinogenic drug because she’d be in big trouble,” said Sofia.

“It's not a drug at all, she'd be in deep shit if she thought of putting mushrooms or something in there. They are pretty normal things. Stuff that you could have in your house and all: forest fruits, thyme, mint, lemon juice, herbal liqueur, cinnamon powder, a bit of salt...” said Sara. “The secret is not in the ingredients, it's in the preparation, but if I tell you, then the trick wouldn't be so cool anymore.”

“Sara! Sara!”

Lola came running from an area in the park that was under the cover of a huge tree, where she and her group of friends were doing a botellón. The girl, who was always dressed to the nines, was wearing a tight, long-sleeved dress with a notable cleavage, high boots, and so much makeup that she could paint a picture rubbing her face against a canvas. Her body was also covered with those light tattoos, but in her case they were so faint that in contrast to those on the nearby trees, they were barely visible. In fact, none of the group showed such intense light marks as the three of them.

“Oh, hi...” she said when she noticed Sofia, looking her up and down as if she were a bug before turning to Dave, “You came! Wasn’t I right about how cool the show is?”

“It was good, yes,” said Dave, averting his eyes slightly.

“You don't always have to be so modest, I mean, you can get a little excited,” said the girl, brushing his arm in a suggestive gesture that Sofia would have found funny if it wasn't for how uncomfortable the boy looked. “Come! Some of the guys from class are out there drinking. Yes, you can come too, it's not like I can throw you out with roach killer.”

“Thank you very much. You're such a lovely person,” Sofia replied, struggling not to bare her teeth in a snarl.

“Yes, I know. I'm absolutely perfect,” said Lola, shaking her long black hair.

Proving that she didn't know how to respect boundaries, and either didn't know how to read body language or didn't care, she grabbed Dave by the hand and pulled him towards the little group gathered under the tree. The young man allowed himself to be dragged by the girl, but from the way he was running his tongue over his lips and averting his eyes it was quite obvious that he was uncomfortable. Sofia was fuming at the way Lola was treating him, simply because that afternoon she had seen a side of him that had shown her the nobility of his spirit, and she didn't think it was fair.

“Shouldn't we do something?” she asked Sara in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, mate. Normally I'd tell you to leave them, but he is just that good of a guy, and if Lola keeps crossing the line we're going to need to have some words with her,” agreed Sara.

The four of them arrived at the place where Lola's friends were drinking. It was an area with several rocks that they were using as seats, and a bench that only God knew where they had stolen it from. That it had been stolen was obvious, because its legs were covered with the cement used to anchor it to the ground. Scattered all around the center were several bags, some already empty, and multiple bottles of alcohol and soft drinks, as well as various snacks such as chips and candies. Aside from Lola's usual friends and the guy who always went with them, other classmates had also joined the party. The girls greeted the young man effusively, making him feel even more uncomfortable. Meanwhile Lola let him go and went to prepare a drink in one of the plastic cups they had brought.

“What have I done to them? I thought they'd get tired of me in a week,” said Dave, walking back to his other friends, the ones with whom he seemed to feel more comfortable.

“It’s usually like that, but it doesn't look like she's going to get tired of you anytime soon. Do you want me to stop her? Because I don't mind, I already have a reputation for being the class’ jerk, so...” said Sofia, refusing to admit that a part of her wanted to pay back in spades all the scorn Lola gave her on a daily manner.

“No... no, it's okay. I can handle this,” he said, glancing sideways at the girl who was already approaching with a glass.

“It's been another mind-blowing queimada, Sara. Too bad the effects last so little,” she said, standing so close to Dave that she brushed his arm with her hand, causing the boy to take a deep breath and run his tongue over his lips several times.

“Of course, if they lasted any longer people would be freaking out all night. It's just a trick to have a good time for a while and that's all,” said Sara smiling openly.

“I saw that you shared the bowl with her. Too bad, I would have liked to be the one to share it with you, but there's still time,” said Lola, standing in front of him to touch his chest with a finger while she offered him the glass.

“I don't drink alcohol,” said Dave more dryly than before.

To Sofia's surprise his body language had suddenly changed. Every muscle in it tensed. His chest began to rise and fall in long, deep breaths. His gaze remained elusive and his tongue ran across his lips, also tense, as if he was holding back a grimace that was struggling to peek out. All that display of language along with the raised shoulders made it clear that he didn't want any trouble, but that he would have no qualms about responding in kind if they kept pushing him.

“Not even a little bit?” Lola said with a charming smile, narrowing the space between her and the young man to bring her face closer to his.

“I don't drink alcohol,” he replied as he looked straight at her eyes, his voice suddenly quieter, deeper, more menacing. “And she has a name.”

“I think he's already told you clearly enough that he doesn't drink, don't you think?” Sofia interjected, pushing Lola to put herself between her and Dave. “Wait, what did you say?”

Suddenly aware of what Dave had just said, Sofia forgot all about Lola and turned to face him. The glow in his marks had become a little more intense and seemed to be pulsing across his skin to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Because of that brightness the blush on his cheeks went almost unnoticed, but even so, when their gazes met briefly Sofia could see it. She could also feel her own skin responding in kind, perhaps because it had been a long time since anyone had seen her as anything other than 'that jerk'.

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“Tche!” Lola clicked her tongue and turned away from the two of them. “What a waste. All the cute guys are either idiots, or gay.”

Both Sofia and Dave turned to Lola and frowned. If there was one thing she had guessed about the boy in the short time she'd known him, it was that he had a noble spirit and infinite patience, but enough of a temper to bang on the table if he felt disgruntled.

“Or maybe you shouldn't be so invasive, Lola. My pal here is shy, and acting the way you do only makes him uncomfortable,” said Sara, trying to pacify the situation a little.

“Sara, it’s ok. You don't need to fight because me. I'd better go home,” said Dave with a little apologetic grimace.

“No, man, wait...”

Dave didn't let her finish. He just turned and walked away. Sofia made a gesture to follow him, but just at that moment Lola intervened, and her words made her blood boil so much that she almost couldn't suppress the guttural growl that went up to her throat.

“I don't know what you do, Sara, always picking up the weirdos.”

“You know, Lola? Maybe you should learn how to flirt without rubbing against guys like a doe in heat. You'd do much better and you wouldn't attract so many assholes who only care about wetting the sausage,” Sofia said with a cynical grimace.

“What did you say?” Lola turned red with anger and the other girls, upon hearing the exchange, stood up to stand by their friend.

“That you can be heard ranting even from the back of the class. The whole class knows about your affairs with the boys. I'm saying this because of that thing of calling the only guy with enough judgment to not want to date such a stupid and obtuse girl an idiot.”

Without waiting for her to respond, on the one hand because she had said all she had to say, and on the other because she was finding it increasingly difficult to suppress her urge to growl, Sofia turned around and rushed away. She walked aimlessly for several minutes, becoming increasingly enraged as her head boiled with thoughts about what had just happened. It bothered her because, ever since she made it clear she didn't want to make friends, Lola had looked down on her and treated her with contempt. It bothered her because, even if she actively ignored people, having to put up with certain comments and looks was annoying. It bothered her because she was treated as a freak and a jerk, and they didn't know anything about her life.

It bothered her because she liked that boy who smelled like forest, and he didn't deserve to be constantly harassed and called an idiot by an imbecile like Lola. Sofia let out a cry of rage and punched a tree trunk. The skin on her knuckles broke into shallow wounds. In the light of the waning moon she saw those scratches close almost immediately, not leaving even a scar. Sofia let out a quiet sigh and her anger dissipated. No, no one really knew her. No one knew anything about her life, nor could she tell certain things.

“The poor tree hasn't done anything to you.”

That voice took her so much by surprise that she jumped, startled. When she turned around, she saw Dave walking along the dirt road as if he were taking a simple stroll. The tattoos on his skin were still glowing, but they seemed to have dimmed considerably and no longer throbbed as if driven by his racing heartbeat. Embarrassed, Sofia looked away abruptly and ran her tongue over her lips.

“Are you hurt?” asked the boy, approaching her.

“No. I didn't hit it as hard as it seemed.”

Sofia was aware of the dent she had left on the bark, and Dave seemed to have noticed it too because he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side. Biting her lip, all too aware of that inquisitive gaze upon her, Sofia turned hers away as she fought back her fear and her instincts. Again she felt watched, like a prey at the mercy of a hunter, and again the rage with which she protected herself began to surface but she didn't let it take control this time. She didn't want to make a scene again, especially not after what he had said that night. It had been a long time since anyone but Sara had looked at her like she was a person with a name. Besides, she knew his gaze was nothing more than curiosity. He was trying to understand why she behaved in such an exotic way.

“Thank you for helping me out,” said Dave, and when Sofia looked up she found a small smile of gratitude.

“It was nothing. Lola is an idiot and deserved more than a push,” Sofia replied, controlling the urge to bare her teeth. “Thanks for what you said. No one has ever stood up for me in front of them before, except Sara,” she added in a quieter voice, feeling the blush rising to her cheeks.

“I know what that kind of girls are like. In my previous high school they made my life miserable. Not just me, but also my friends’ lives by association. I couldn't stand by and say nothing while she looked down her nose at you,” he said, and Sofia saw his tattoos pulsing more intensely again.

“I guess I partly deserve it. I’ve been pretty rude to them from the beginning, but only when they piss me off. I don’t go after them looking for a fight.”

“No one deserves to be treated badly, and don't think they do it because of something you've done. They will always look for any excuse to torment other people, but in reality they do it because it amuses them, because that way they manage to win the favor of other wretches like them. They are psychopaths,” he looked away abruptly and Sofia heard a murmur in his throat.

“In your case, what was the excuse they used?”

Dave let out a quiet sigh and looked up at the starry sky.

“That I'm different.”