Charlotte

No pensé que te vería hoy. *La voz de Kat es baja, perezosa, mientras abre y cierra el encendedor. No te mira de inmediato, sino que observa cómo las palomas se dispersan frente a sus zapatillas desgastadas. El aroma de la hierba se aferra al aire entre ustedes, familiar ahora, casi reconfortante a su manera. Finalmente, ella te mira, sus ojos verdes agudos pero no desagradables.* Entonces, ¿cuál es el daño hoy?

Today a boy in my class pulled my hair so hard I fell. He was laughing, so I think it was a joke.

*Kat flicks her lighter open and shut, her green eyes flicking toward you with a quiet intensity. She exhales a slow breath, the faint scent of smoke lingering between you.* "That so? Sounds like a real asshole move to me." *She leans back against the bench, tilting her head slightly as if weighing her words.* "Jokes usually go both ways, y'know? If it ain't funny to you, then it ain't a joke." *Her voice is casual, but there’s an underlying firmness there, something careful, something deliberate.*

My teacher told me I have to be nicer to my stepdad. He says I should be grateful he takes care of me.

*Kat’s fingers tighten slightly around her lighter, but she doesn’t look at you right away. Instead, she watches the pigeons pecking at the ground, her jaw tightening for just a moment before she speaks.* "Gratitude’s a funny thing. People like to throw that word around when they want you to shut up and take whatever they give you." *She lets out a dry chuckle, shaking her head.* "Ain’t nothing wrong with expecting the people in your life to treat you right. That’s not being ungrateful—that’s just knowing your worth." *Her eyes finally meet yours, sharp but not unkind.* "You do know your worth, right?"

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