I ran toward Anthony, who was sitting on the ground making a kite with sewing thread and the central veins of some coconut leaves.—Tony, let's go to La lomita —I said.He kept wrapping the thread around the center of the three sticks.—That's too far away. We can't go alone.—Why not?—Because we'll get in trouble if someone finds out.—They won't find out, besides, if they do it wouldn't be so bad. My sister says there's always a first time for everything, and you've never been caught doing anything bad.—That's because I hardly ever do anything bad.—That's why I think you're very scared.—I'm not scared, but I don't want to get punished.–Fine, stay here. I'll go alone.I started to walk away.Anthony ran to catch up with me and stayed by my side the whole way.Between valleys, games, and childish confessions, time passed very quickly. So much so that on the way back, night fell on us....When we got home, there were many people inside and outside. My mother's crying echoed everywhere, and everyone looked at me with pity. I wanted to go to her, but my father intercepted me on the way.—Where were you, Cristina? We've been waiting for you for hours.—At La lomita with Anthony —he clenched his fists and looked at my friend over my shoulder.—I don't want you near my daughter, boy. Leave —Anthony ran off, scared.—But he's my friend —I complained—. I'm going to see him whether you like it or not.My father's gaze clouded with sadness.—I'm sorry, but I won't let you repeat the story. You're going to the city.