Malu
Rafa’s parents’ party looks lively, as usual. Leo has joined us, and we spend the night laughing, eating a delicious supper and drinking good champagne. His parents throw this gala every year for a very selective group, and people are always fighting for invitations. I tease Rafa about it, saying I’m the only stray here, but he frowns at me, telling me I shouldn’t talk about myself like that. I nod in agreement, but, deep inside, I know it’s true. It doesn’t matter how my designer dresses I own, I always feel like I’m not at the same level as these people. I’d rather wear denim shorts, drink cheap sweet wine, sit on my balcony and chat with my friends than attend this kind of presumptuous environment. However, that would never keep me from accompanying him to that party. I don’t usua
