Chapter 2

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"delete the account":

I hate living in United States.
Well, actually, I love the country, I was just joking. But sometimes I hate living in the United States, in a charming neighborhood, attending a typical American school, and experiencing those parties you see in movies. I kinda miss Argentina, it was another different life style. What I truly despise is constantly hearing about the poor state of the economy in Argentina, it somehow brings me down. As we were driving back home in the car with my dad, the radio news announced that the dollar had risen again and there were harsh criticisms of the government. To me, all politicians lie, and that exhausts me. Even though I don't contribute financially to the household, it somehow affects me and affects my family that lives there, and saddens me a bit.

- What did you do at Maggie's house?
- Nothing much, we just talked about various things. We went to buy chocolate and candies to make waffles, although not many places were open on a Sunday. Then, Maggie invited us to have dinner, and we tried the fatay, I think it's a typical Turkish dish, right? - I replied to my dad.
Stephanie and I decided to stay for dinner; Maggie's family seems nice. During the dinner, I noticed some strange and uncomfortable looks exchanged between the mother and the siblings, which made me feel somewhat out of place. However, everything went well, in fact, Mag's mom is a great cook. I just couldn't stop thinking about the fake account.

- What were the talking topics? - my dad asked me, he always asks me things I clearly can't answer if I want to use my phone in the next 48 hours at least.
- We were talking about not wanting to start classes and stuff like that. We all wish vacations could last forever.
- Everyone would like vacations to last forever, but that's not possible.

You have to work to earn what you want. That's what my parents always tell me, although nowadays you can make money with anything, I guess.

My dad is a man of great seriousness, his demeanor and behavior always convey a sense of impeccable correctness. In many ways, he resembles my grandfather, a hardworking and caring man. I can't complain about my relationship with my parents because they are always present in my life. However, sometimes I feel that my words are not fully heard. Perhaps it's the accumulated fatigue of day-to-day life, that exhaustion that affects our ability to pay attention. But I know I can't play the victim or feel bad because they always give me everything they can, and that's something I deeply appreciate, or at least try to make them believe.

Everyone tells me that I resemble my mom, but in reality, I see more similarities with my dad. We are both tall, and according to my mother's observant eyes, our hands are practically identical, with every detail in its place. Even our noses share the same shape and contour. Although my hair is not blond like my dad's used to be, and my eyes don't have that bright clarity, I inherited from my mother a mysterious dark brown mane and café eyes that seem like mirrors of the soul. My younger brother is more blonde, but he kinda hates the texture of it, the curly hair.

- Hi, Matt, how was it? - my mom said while cleaning the marble countertop in the kitchen. I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and replied,
- Nothing much, we had a good time. - and quickly went to my room since I was exhausted. But before going to bed, I opened my phone and checked my notifications. Steph had sent a message when we left Mag's house in our group chat, saying, "guys, it's a really bad idea to keep talking to him," and Maggie replied, "but it's so much fun, he's such an idiot." And I didn't know what to say.

Venceslao, an enigmatic figure in my class, has become a close friend of mine. Our paths crossed last year, a few months after the commencement of classes. Initially, we held a certain distance, as if testing the waters, but it wasn't until the waning days of August that our bond truly solidified. His name is peculiar, an oddity that mirrors the enigma that he himself embodies. Coming from a family with greater affluence and ostensible financial stability, Venceslao exudes an aura of coolness that is undeniably magnetic. He's someone whose company I cherish, a source of unwavering support and camaraderie.

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