Chapter 1 - Analyses
I was always excited to see the new exchange students each year and to choose my new crush to obsess over. This was my last year in high school so I wanted a really cute one that would distract me from the stress of exams. I knew that this wasn't very healthy at all but I seriously didn't care. Being in a negligible town with a measly population of attractive (and gay) guys meant that this was one of my only windows into romantic feelings and if I was lucky, there could be enough subtle hints that would feed my delusions and make me believe that there was some sort of reciprocation.
On the first day, I walked in and saw some of the old familiar faces. It always felt slightly disheartening to see that these people hadn't actually ceased to exist during the summer and that I would have to continue spending time with them for another year. But it was okay, it was just a few more months. We were all in the hall, lined up and just waiting around for everyone to show up before heading to orientation. I scanned the faces again and to my disappointment there didn't seem to be any new ones-yet. I wasn't too disturbed by this though, as the exchange students often turned up some days after the official start of the year. Besides, my life didn't revolve around having a crush, it really wasn't at all that important.
Just in that moment, the door opened and in comes a sort of tall guy (taller than me, at least) with blonde hair and glasses. He had a neutral expression and didn't seem too shy, just the appropriate amount for someone walking into a room full of strangers in a foreign country. Well, he looked interesting. Nice jawline, a nose that I could appreciate and a tidy appearance. The height was a bonus too. He seemed to be a good contender for this year’s fixation. I couldn't wait to find out his name.
"Hey man, what's your name?", one of my impertinently extroverted peers asked. "My name is Ignacio, but everybody calls me Nacho", he replied in a distinctly Spanish accent. "Shit", I thought. "A Spaniard". This was going to be a problem, as I was Hispanic and definitely had a weakness for the colonisers across the Atlantic. It also felt slightly threatening, as I would no longer be the most prestigious lone Spanish speaker and more importantly, I might be expected to be friends with him. Pretty scary, but at least I would get to know him that way and- what was I thinking? I barely knew his name and I was already getting lost in distant possibilities. I had to calm down and focus on what was to come in the coming minutes, the orientation.
"Ah right, and where are you from?", my classmate continued. "Madrid". "Ohh, hala Madrid". "Nooo bro, I'm a Barcelona fan", Nacho chuckled. I could practically feel my stomach turning at this overly heterosexual discourse but I had to admit that it was endearing, in a way. I still felt kind of repulsed at the unironic use of "bro", but I could look past that. As I turned to grab my bag and start heading down to the orientation room, I heard my name being called. "Bro Nacho this is Miguel, he speaks Spanish too", another classmate of mine said. I felt my heart drop to my ass. "Ey, ¿qué tal?", he said in a casual tone. "Where you are from, Miguel?". "I'm from Honduras, how about you?". "Ahh, Honduras. I'm from Spain". "That's cool, how long are you going to be here for?". "One year, then I maybe will study in the university here". "Wow, okay, that’s interesting. Well, I'll talk to you later because we have to go the orientation room now", I said. I grabbed my bag and quickly made my way out of there.
I felt the need to reflect on what had happened during those last few minutes as I walked to the room. I felt a sense of excitement with Nacho and hoped that he was conducive to being a crush, unlike other exchange students in previous years that at first seemed adorable but quickly revealed their unpalatable traits. I also hoped that he wouldn't be the only option, as I liked having a sort of variety. Nonetheless, if he was the only choice, he didn't look to be a bad one. Physically, he definitely could be my type, but I had to analyse him a bit more. Personality-wise, well, I wasn't sure of at all as I had only exchanged a few brief words with him. In sum, the prospect of Nacho was an exciting one and I couldn't wait to continue assessing him.
Once sat in the classroom where we received for the last time the same annual 'motivational' speech in which we were warned about behaviour and other ordinary things that didn't really pertain to me, I was able to get a prolonged look at him. He had conveniently chosen to sit in front of me and so my eyes were glued to the back of his head. I was quite fond and honestly a bit envious of his haircut, so that was a plus. Also, when he sat down, I managed to smell his cologne which was absolutely divine- the guy had good taste. I looked at his hands, nails well-trimmed (an extremely important detail, trust me) and smooth looking skin. The hairs on his hands interested me, it seemed intimate to look at them. I continued to stare at his hands, their size was appealing to me (they were bigger than mine) and I imagined how they would feel holding me by the chin. Having these thoughts in front of the principal was not exactly appropriate but it was definitely fun. Nacho was fun to look at. My eyes finally drifted away and I began to pay attention to the principal's rambling. The clock's hands inched on slowly, and I was growing impatient. The desire to speak to this man felt like an itch that I couldn't yet scratch.
