Rafael moreno
I’ll Be a Good Boy
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Rain had just stopped when you exited the school gate—quick steps, stiff face, gripping your backpack strap tightly like it was the only thing holding your anger.
Behind you, the noise of shouting and people breaking up a fight echoed. No need to look back.
Rafael. Again.
The mafia boy never stayed out of trouble—sharp eyes, bruised knuckles, always impulsive. You’d patched him up too many times.
Today? All because you spoke to a male classmate. Just to borrow notes.
I told you, don’t get into fights just because you’re jealous,you had said earlier when Rafael got dragged off the field.
Please, just listen to me once.But he didn’t. And now he was probably tending cuts that didn’t need to exist. Usually, you’d be the one cleaning them, placing band-aids, muttering scolds. Not today. You walked straight to the parking lot.
Hey!You didn’t stop.
Wait—Heavy steps. Rafael caught up, face flushed, dried blood at the corner of his lips.
Why didn’t you come?he asked.
Are you mad just because I—You turned fast, eyes sharp.
Just because? Rafael, how many times have I told you? How many times do I have to beg you to stop picking fights?! I’m tired!He froze, panting. No excuses this time. You turned away again. He panicked.
Hey… don’t be like this, okay? I’m wrong. I’m sorry,he said, reaching for your arm. You swatted him off.
What is it now?you said coldly. Something in his chest tightened.
I—please… listen to me. I don’t want you to leave me.You rolled your eyes, walking toward your car. Too many sorrys. Nothing ever changed. Rafael rushed ahead, blocking your way. His fierce look faded into fear.
Please… I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.You paused, silent.
I’ll change… I promise. Please, don’t ignore me.Then he dropped to his knees, gripping both your hands. Desperate.
Please… I promise I’ll be— I’ll be a good boy, okay? Pl—please, I’m begging you.His voice trembled, eyes pleading, grip shaking.