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Hey guys!!
I wanted to share with you this story inspired by my youthful summers in a small village in Costa Brava, Catalonia. A big part of the story is real, but I dramatized it in some points to make it more engaging. It follows a teenager named Tristán as he navigates the ups and downs of growing up, relationships, and discovering his identity in a sleepy town.
I hope you enjoy it and find some nostalgia in it, just like I do! I’d love to hear your thoughts and any feedback you might have.
And yes, of course, if you’re wondering, he will discover his sexuality too, and there will be some steamy scenes. Hehehe.
Please let me know if you want to read more chapters and get more about Tristan’s Adventures!
Here’s the first chapter:
Chapter 1 - Another Crappy Day
I wake up with a start, grumbling about the light streaming through the poorly closed blinds.
—“Damn it, Marta! Did you seriously get into bed without closing the blinds again?”
My sister’s annoying habit of leaving them open wakes me up every morning, and the sunlight, which hits me directly in the eyes, feels like a personal attack. I wake up grumpy every morning, although, honestly, the sun isn’t the only culprit; the atmosphere in Calaferra always seems to drain my energy. The apartment is a shoebox: I have to share a room with Marta, who never leaves me any space. There’s nothing to do in this place but visit the library, where I try to kill time reading something somewhat interesting. I’m so bored that each page feels like it drags on forever.
Suddenly, I realize that Marta isn’t in her bed. “Is it that late?” I wonder, although getting up early isn’t one of her virtues. It must be late already. I check the clock: 7:30 AM. “Is it seriously 7:30 AM?!” I think, incredulous. Marta would never get up at this hour. I step out of the room, expecting to find her asleep on the couch, like so many times after binge-watching her awful anime. The house is silent.
I don’t hear my parents either. “Are they still asleep?” I peek into their room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but they’re not there. A chill runs through me for no apparent reason. “Where the hell could they have gone?” As I think this, I head toward the tiny kitchen and spot a folded note under a Halloween pumpkin. My mom’s decorating always comes too early; her obsession with horror movies seems to spiral more out of control each year.
I unfold the note and recognize my dad’s handwriting:
“We’ve taken Marta to Viladern. We’re also meeting Ernesto and Victoria for lunch there. There’s food in the fridge, and I left 50 euros in the entry drawer. We’ll see you when we get back.”
The note ends with a “BEHAVE YOURSELF!” that takes up almost the entire page.
If they’ve gone out to eat with their friends, they’ll be out all day. Their meals always stretch into the night. It’s likely they won’t even come back to sleep, especially now that they’ve left me fifty euros. Part of me hopes they leave me alone for a couple of days; however, I can’t stop thinking about how bored I’ll be.
Marta always comes and goes from her visits to Andy, her boyfriend, who I can’t stand. Whenever they’re together, he tries to give me lessons on how to “win over girls.” He acts like he’s the king of the world just because he has a year and a half of experience. To me, listening to his advice is a waste of time. Besides, he always has this arrogant smile on his face that makes me want to punch him.
I pour myself a cold cup of coffee, finishing off what’s left in the pot my parents left behind. The smell of stale coffee mixes with the humid morning air. I sit on a stool and gaze out the window facing the kitchen bar. The community pool is deserted. “Maybe a sunbath would be a good idea.”
I put on the only swimsuit that isn’t hanging out to dry, those green shorts with daisies that my sister gave me for my birthday last week and that I absolutely hate. I grab my towel and head for the door. Just before opening it, a thought strikes me: “What if I run into him?” I turn around, go back to my room, take off the hideous shorts, and put on the yellow speedo I bought in Ibiza earlier this summer, hiding it in a box on my nightstand. I’ve never worn it in front of my family for fear they’d think it’s too daring. Today’s the day… “I mean, there’s no one here…”
At the pool, I recline on a lounger under a sunshade. The morning temperature isn’t warm enough to jump in the water, but it’s pleasant. The sounds of water and distant birds create a peaceful atmosphere. I open my book to the dog-eared page. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas remains one of the best books I’ve read, no matter how many times I revisit it.
—“Tristán, you’re getting all the sun; you’re going to burn!”
My mother’s loud voice startles me. I open my eyes and see her approaching, surprised. Her face has that mix of worry and amusement that makes me feel like a child caught in a prank.
—“And that swimsuit? When did you get it? How trendy!”
I hurriedly sit up, wrapping the towel around me and jumping to my feet.
—“Mom! Weren’t you guys going out to eat?” I ask, confused, embarrassed, and a little annoyed.
—“Yes, but your dad insisted on trying out the new barbecue, so we decided to have lunch here. You know how he gets when he’s determined about something…”
Behind my mother, I spot my dad, Marta, Andy, Ernesto, and Victoria. They’re all chatting and laughing. “Are they joking about my ‘package’?”
I tie the towel around my waist and head toward them, feeling like my world has turned into a spectacle I don’t want to be a part of. Andy’s laughter echoes in my ears like a taunt. “Why haven’t I introduced them to any girlfriend yet?” Each question is a reminder of how alone I am, as if my love life is some entertaining topic for them.
Today is going to be another crappy day…
I wanted to share with you this story inspired by my youthful summers in a small village in Costa Brava, Catalonia. A big part of the story is real, but I dramatized it in some points to make it more engaging. It follows a teenager named Tristán as he navigates the ups and downs of growing up, relationships, and discovering his identity in a sleepy town.
I hope you enjoy it and find some nostalgia in it, just like I do! I’d love to hear your thoughts and any feedback you might have.
And yes, of course, if you’re wondering, he will discover his sexuality too, and there will be some steamy scenes. Hehehe.
Please let me know if you want to read more chapters and get more about Tristan’s Adventures!
Here’s the first chapter:
Chapter 1 - Another Crappy Day
I wake up with a start, grumbling about the light streaming through the poorly closed blinds.
—“Damn it, Marta! Did you seriously get into bed without closing the blinds again?”
My sister’s annoying habit of leaving them open wakes me up every morning, and the sunlight, which hits me directly in the eyes, feels like a personal attack. I wake up grumpy every morning, although, honestly, the sun isn’t the only culprit; the atmosphere in Calaferra always seems to drain my energy. The apartment is a shoebox: I have to share a room with Marta, who never leaves me any space. There’s nothing to do in this place but visit the library, where I try to kill time reading something somewhat interesting. I’m so bored that each page feels like it drags on forever.
Suddenly, I realize that Marta isn’t in her bed. “Is it that late?” I wonder, although getting up early isn’t one of her virtues. It must be late already. I check the clock: 7:30 AM. “Is it seriously 7:30 AM?!” I think, incredulous. Marta would never get up at this hour. I step out of the room, expecting to find her asleep on the couch, like so many times after binge-watching her awful anime. The house is silent.
I don’t hear my parents either. “Are they still asleep?” I peek into their room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but they’re not there. A chill runs through me for no apparent reason. “Where the hell could they have gone?” As I think this, I head toward the tiny kitchen and spot a folded note under a Halloween pumpkin. My mom’s decorating always comes too early; her obsession with horror movies seems to spiral more out of control each year.
I unfold the note and recognize my dad’s handwriting:
“We’ve taken Marta to Viladern. We’re also meeting Ernesto and Victoria for lunch there. There’s food in the fridge, and I left 50 euros in the entry drawer. We’ll see you when we get back.”
The note ends with a “BEHAVE YOURSELF!” that takes up almost the entire page.
If they’ve gone out to eat with their friends, they’ll be out all day. Their meals always stretch into the night. It’s likely they won’t even come back to sleep, especially now that they’ve left me fifty euros. Part of me hopes they leave me alone for a couple of days; however, I can’t stop thinking about how bored I’ll be.
Marta always comes and goes from her visits to Andy, her boyfriend, who I can’t stand. Whenever they’re together, he tries to give me lessons on how to “win over girls.” He acts like he’s the king of the world just because he has a year and a half of experience. To me, listening to his advice is a waste of time. Besides, he always has this arrogant smile on his face that makes me want to punch him.
I pour myself a cold cup of coffee, finishing off what’s left in the pot my parents left behind. The smell of stale coffee mixes with the humid morning air. I sit on a stool and gaze out the window facing the kitchen bar. The community pool is deserted. “Maybe a sunbath would be a good idea.”
I put on the only swimsuit that isn’t hanging out to dry, those green shorts with daisies that my sister gave me for my birthday last week and that I absolutely hate. I grab my towel and head for the door. Just before opening it, a thought strikes me: “What if I run into him?” I turn around, go back to my room, take off the hideous shorts, and put on the yellow speedo I bought in Ibiza earlier this summer, hiding it in a box on my nightstand. I’ve never worn it in front of my family for fear they’d think it’s too daring. Today’s the day… “I mean, there’s no one here…”
At the pool, I recline on a lounger under a sunshade. The morning temperature isn’t warm enough to jump in the water, but it’s pleasant. The sounds of water and distant birds create a peaceful atmosphere. I open my book to the dog-eared page. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas remains one of the best books I’ve read, no matter how many times I revisit it.
—“Tristán, you’re getting all the sun; you’re going to burn!”
My mother’s loud voice startles me. I open my eyes and see her approaching, surprised. Her face has that mix of worry and amusement that makes me feel like a child caught in a prank.
—“And that swimsuit? When did you get it? How trendy!”
I hurriedly sit up, wrapping the towel around me and jumping to my feet.
—“Mom! Weren’t you guys going out to eat?” I ask, confused, embarrassed, and a little annoyed.
—“Yes, but your dad insisted on trying out the new barbecue, so we decided to have lunch here. You know how he gets when he’s determined about something…”
Behind my mother, I spot my dad, Marta, Andy, Ernesto, and Victoria. They’re all chatting and laughing. “Are they joking about my ‘package’?”
I tie the towel around my waist and head toward them, feeling like my world has turned into a spectacle I don’t want to be a part of. Andy’s laughter echoes in my ears like a taunt. “Why haven’t I introduced them to any girlfriend yet?” Each question is a reminder of how alone I am, as if my love life is some entertaining topic for them.
Today is going to be another crappy day…
