"So, children, that’s going to be our project for the next ‘evaluación.’ To see if we can make our dreams come true," Miss Tita said to her pupils, a bunch of excited six-year old children.

A loud murmur followed the teacher’s words, as all the kids talked to each other animatedly, commenting on the celebrities they intended to write.

"I’ll write Miguel Bosé!" said a brown-haired little girl, with her long dark hair in a pony-tail. Her already pink face flushed even more at the mere thought. "He’s sooooo dreamy. I can’t stop looking at my sister’s poster of him in her room."

"I’ll write Santillana. He’s the best football player in the world," replied the boy sitting beside her, immediately taking out a sheet of paper from his portfolio and picking up his pencil, trying to think of the right words to write.

Little by little, the classroom quieted, as all the children got down to work on a very personal task: write a letter to their own personal heroes.

Sitting at one of those tables, a small brown-haired and brown-eyed little girl silently took out a sheet of paper from her portfolio. None of her deskmates had bothered to ask what her dream was, whom did she intend to write. None of them cared.

Sandra was the typical loner, the misfit, the freak of the class. She didn’t know why. She considered herself a normal kid... until she started going to school. She had problems relating with her classmates almost from the beginning. She didn’t understand the reason, she got along very well with her cousins when they got together during the summer. Since she was an only child, school was the perfect place for interacting with other children, and she had been elated the first few days she had been there, despite the fact that it had been really traumatic for her to part from her parents’ protective and safe influence. But she resolved to make the most of it, making lots of friends, playing with them and sharing everything she had.

Soon enough, her classmates began treating her differently. They teased her mercilessly about everything. From her looks (?) to her name. (María Sandra was a weird name but María Sonia wasn’t?) Everything she said was wrong; she didn’t know anything. She had nothing worth saying and sharing with them. She was clumsy. She was weird.

As time went by, things got worse. They took her eraser or her pencil and didn’t give them back. They laughed at her for being so silly. They treated her as if she was vermin and they mocked her when her features showed how deeply she was hurting.

Sandra only wanted to fit in and make friends, but she understood crystal clear that she would never fit in and she would never have any friends.

Eventually, Sandra learned to be by herself most of the time, to keep her feelings to herself and not trust her dreams or her secrets with anyone. She was a good student, although Math gave her a hard time. She had quite good grades, and a very lonely and broken heart.

The first year was a nightmare for her, and this second year, her first grade year, was only part two of that nightmare. She continued to look weird and act weird in her classmates’ eyes. She was shunned and mocked by most of them.

It was springtime already and only three months remained for the summer holidays. Three months for this second nine months long’ nightmare to end.

Sandra picked up her pencil, already knowing whom she wanted to write. They had been her only comfort during her worst times at school. Just thinking about them made her feel warm and comforted. She thought about them several times a day, since she was alone with her thoughts most of the time.

Pursing her lips in concentration, the little girl began writing. But all of a sudden, she realized she couldn’t write in Spanish. She had to write her letter in English. Her heart sank. She was only six years old and she had only started learning the English language last year! How could she possibly...? A dictionary! She needed a dictionary! She would ask her parents to buy her a dictionary and then she would write a letter to her heroes. To the only two people in the world who accompanied her in her loneliness when nobody else seemed to care.

Right then, the bell rang.

"Okay, children," Miss Tita said, clapping her hands a couple times. "I want you to have your letters ready this Friday. We’ll post them then. Your heroes will have about six weeks to answer them. We have to settle a deadline." She stood up and checked the big calendar beside the blackboard. "What do you say to... uhm... May, 15? It’s Friday, so I think it’ll be perfect. Those of you who receive an answer will have the chance to read your letters in front of your classmates, if you want."

An excited prattle followed the smiling teacher out of the class, as the children put away their stuff, picked up their backpacks and coats and left after her. Classes were over for the day.

Little Sandra asked her parents for a Spanish/English-English/Spanish dictionary to complete her homework, which they got her the next day. Once alone in her room, the little girl soon realized her level of English was extremely rudimentary and that she would have to keep her letter very simple. Many of the things she wanted to say would have to be left out. She sighed as tears filled her eyes. How could she convey all the things she...? Would they understand how important this was to her? Would they care for a little girl, lost in a country thousands of kilometres away from their world?

Wiping away her tears and looking up practically every single word she scrawled in her clumsy first-grader handwriting, Sandra emptied her misfit and lonely heart in the letter.

Dear David and Dear Paul,

My name is Sandra de la Cruz and I live in Madrid, Spain. I am six years old and my teacher has told me and my classmates to write a letter to our personal heroes. And you are my heroes.

I am lonely, my classmates don’t like me and I dream about you when I feel sad in school. I want to have a friend like Starsky and Hutch are friends the one for the other. I would not be lonely then because I would have a friend who would defend me.

I would be very happy if you answered my letter. Please, forgive my bad English. I hope you understand me.

Thank you. I love you very much.

Sincerely,

Sandra de la Cruz.

It took Sandra two days to write the letter, but finally, it was completed. She asked her parents to buy her an envelope and a stamp for the United States. Her parents looked at each other with a funny smile and after messing her short brown hair, Sandra’s father went down to buy them.

That evening, Sandra wrote her address on the back of the envelope.

Sandra de la Cruz

C/General Ricardos, N. 196 dpdo, 1. A

Madrid - 25 (ESPAÑA)

It was then that it dawned on her she didn’t know where to send the letter. She had no address for David and Paul! Where could she reach them? Her chest ached in despair and anguish. That ‘little detail’ was going to ruin her dream. She burst out crying in sheer helplessness. She already knew that her chances of ever receiving an answer were practically zero, but this turned that ‘practically’ into ‘certainty’.

At dinner time, Sandra’s mother asked her why her eyes were so reddened and she looked down and said ‘it’s nothing.’

Sandra’s parents looked at each other knowingly. They knew that their daughter was very unhappy at school and although they did their very best to show her how much they loved her the few hours they had together on weekdays, they knew only too well that they couldn’t help their child when things got difficult at school. She was alone then. Children’s capacity for cruelty toward those weaker and trusting would never cease to amaze them.

When she put her to bed, Sandra’s mother kissed her forehead and told her to keep the faith because one day, she would get her reward for being such a good and sweet little girl. Then, she tickled her for a little while, as she did every night.

But when her mother left, Sandra’s eyes got the infinitely sad look that had been a part of her for more than a year now. She turned onto her side and grabbed her pillow, biting her lips and doing her best not to cry herself to sleep, again.

Something inside her snapped then. NO! She couldn’t give up! She had to try, even if she knew there would be no answer!

Getting out of bed, she turned on her bedside lamp. She hurried to her backpack and opened it, taking out the letter. She looked at it for a few moments, thinking hard. Finally, she picked up a pencil and wrote:

David Soul and Paul Michael Glaser

Starsky and Hutch

Hollywood – California

USA

When she finished writing, she let out the air she didn’t know she had been holding. She stared at the envelope for a little while and nodded to herself. It was the best she could do. She licked the back of the stamp and stuck it. Then, reverently, put the letter back in her backpack and quickly got back in bed. In the loud silence of her bedroom, she realized she had been chanting all the time. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fell asleep still chanting the word like a mantra.

"Please, please, please, please, please, please..." she prayed, as a wishful tear rolled down her face.

The morning after, along with her classmates, she followed her teacher to the mailbox just outside school and posted her letter with a last and hopeful ‘Please’.

Weeks passed and nothing happened. Then, one fine day, Raúl, the tall and skinny boy who sat close to Sandra’s desk arrived from home jumping and crying out with excitement. Santillana, the football player, had answered his letter! He had sent him an autographed picture that read: "Best wishes, Raúl. Santillana."

Sandra was very happy for Raúl. He was one of the few who didn’t ignore her. At least, not too much. She was also a Real Madrid fan, so this was a very exciting moment for her too, in a convoluted way.

Raúl was the first. Little by little, letters were answered. Football and basket players, a couple singers and even a young actor answered the children’s letters. Sandra found herself actually happy for all her classmates, despite the way some of them treated her.

Out of all her 32 classmates, about a dozen were answered during the month.

One afternoon, when only 10 days remained for the deadline to arrive, her deskmates started talking about the celebrities they had written. Out of the blue, Sonia turned to Sandra and asked her whom she had written.

Blinking in astonishment at having actually been asked, Sandra replied she had written Starsky and Hutch.

"You wrote them?" Sonia asked. "Funny that. I asked everybody and no one thought of writing non-Spanish people. I never thought of it. I’d have written Mark Hamill. He’s so cute!" She looked at Sandra, obviously irritated that she hadn’t thought of it and her unremarkable deskmate had. "You wrote them at the studio in Los Angeles?"

Looking down in embarrassment, Sandra explained that she didn’t have their address, so she had simply sent the letter to Hollywood, California.

Her deskmates looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"You wrote them not having their full address?" Sonia guffawed. "Not even a Zip code?"

Sandra shook her head.

"Oh, my. This is too much! It’d be a first that you did something clever. Jeeez, you can’t get sillier than that!" Sonia looked at Sandra with a mocking face. "And you still expect them to answer?"

"I-I... I hop-hoped..." Sandra stuttered.

"Oh, shut up," Sonia waved her hand, dismissing her deskmate completely.

"They’ll return to sender any day now; assuming that you wrote your own address right," a blonde girl named Ana said, joining in the taunts. "Just don’t use the cancelled stamp on your next letter!"

"I bet she would!" Sonia burst out laughing again, triggering her deskmates’ laughter, too. "Good one, Ana! How can anyone be so stupid?"

More than used to this by now, Sandra shut out her surroundings and withdrew into herself, to the bright and loving place inside her heart where everything was possible and where every dream came true. One blond-haired man and one dark-haired man filled that place, and she smiled dreamily, thinking about those two men’s friendship. A friendship so strong and all-encompassing that it healed everything. Nothing could touch them as long as they had each other. Those two men had what she would never know.

More days passed and it was May, 14^th. Thursday. Sandra woke up that morning and went to school, as usual. She still hadn’t gotten back her letter, but it didn’t matter to her anymore. She had lost all hope weeks ago. She only prayed for the weekend to arrive as quickly as possible, because that would mean that this humiliating week would be finally over.

Gratefully, the day passed more or less uneventfully, but when she returned home that evening, she noticed her parents looking at her in a strange way. They looked at her and smiled meaningfully, as if they knew something she didn’t. She hated it when people did that. She had enough of those stares at school and they hurt like daggers.

That night, her mother put her to sleep and after kissing her brow, she told her that sometimes, dreams did come true, that miracles did happen once in a while. She wished her sweet dreams and told her that she would never forget the weekend ahead.

Sandra thought that her parents had some sort of surprise in store for her and she begged her mom to tell her what it was. She shushed her and told her she would have to be patient. This upcoming weekend would be one of the happiest of her life.

With such a lovely promise in the horizon, Sandra closed her eyes and fell asleep, praying for the Friday to pass as fast as possible.

May, 15^th dawned sunny and bright. Sandra got out of bed, washed up and donned her school uniform. She had her usual quick breakfast and her parents took her to the bus that would take her to school.

The morning classes were as boring and endless as usual for a Friday, and when they were over, she took her light coat and joined some of her schoolmates at the gates, waiting for the bus that would take them home for lunch. Since Sandra’s home was too far away from school, she had lunch at her grandparents’, that was closer.

She soon noticed that there was something strange about her grandmother, too. It wasn’t anything she said and did. But there was something in the way she looked at her, something in her behaviour that wasn’t quite there.

Shrugging it off and praying more than ever for this weird day to end, she returned to school for her evening classes. The first class was a bit of a blur, because it had been obvious all day that the fourteen kids who had received an answer to their letters couldn’t wait for the last hour to arrive and share their happiness, reading the letters they had received out loud.

Around 4:30 PM, Ms. Tita stood up and walked to the centre of the classroom with a wide smile on her face. She cast a furtive look on Sandra’s direction, but next, she encompassed the entire class with her eyes.

"Well, children! I think that some one you have been receiving letters lately."

An excited giggling answered her words.

"I think it’s time for those of you to walk up here and share those letters with your classmates who haven’t been so lucky."

For the next 30 minutes, child after child, trembling with joy and anticipation, read out loud the letters they had received from their idols. Most of them were brief, but some were actually really affectionate, being obvious that those celebrities knew they were corresponding with very young children.

Sandra was smiling at the tremor in Raúl’s voice when it was his turn to read his letter, and she gave a jump when Sonia nudged her arm with her elbow.

"I think I can hear the Torino’s siren," she teased, triggering her deskmates’ giggles.

Feeling as if she had been kicked in her stomach, Sandra’s eyes immediately filled with tears and she wrapped her arms around herself, in a futile attempt to find comfort from her deskmates’ cruelty. She knew that showing weakness in this manner only made things worse, since it showed her mates they still had the power to hurt her. But she couldn’t help it. These past few weeks had been the worst of her life. As simple as that. And she was about to break down. She bit her lips and told herself to hold on, that this week’s classes would be over very soon and then she’d be out of this ugly place. She would run to her parents’ arms and cry to her heart’s content there.

Just then, there was a big commotion in the class next door. Screams filtered through the wall, making Raúl stop his reading and all the other children look at the closed door that separated them from the other class.

It took quite a while for the racket to subside, but when it did, sort of, Ms. Tita, who had stood up with a big grin on her face, encouraged Raúl to finish reading his letter. When he did, she kindly told him to return to his seat, which he did, followed by his classmates’ heartfelt applause.

With a smile and another quick look at Sandra’s direction, Ms. Tita addressed her class again.

"Now, children. If you’ll excuse me for a minute, there’s something I have to arrange next door. You wait for me here, and behave yourselves. There’s a huge surprise waiting for one of you. Someone who was brave enough to reach for her dream, even if she knew it was practically impossible to come true. I can’t tell you how happy I am that it did. And how!"

And with that, she opened the door connecting with the other class and closed it quickly behind her, before anyone could see what was happening on the other side.

All children looked at each other and began talking among themselves, wondering what could possibly be going on only a few metres away.

Sandra had withdrawn into herself completely. She was praying for everything to be over soon. She didn’t dare to look up and face her mocking deskmates’ expressions. She picked up her pencil and began scribbling absently on a folded paper, lost once again in her inner world of warmth and comfort. Strangely, it didn’t seem to work this time. There was an empty hole inside her that suddenly refused to be filled. Her eyesight became blurry. She blinked a couple times and two teardrops fell on the sheet of paper she was writing on. She sniffled and wiped her tears away angrily.

Nothing would ever change for her. Nothing special would ever happen to her. She was uninteresting, plain and stupid. It was sad beyond belief to know, at the tender age of six, what she could expect from life and people from now on and for the rest of her life.

She wanted to disappear into nowhere. She was invisible to her classmates’ eyes most of the time, and the only times they acknowledged her were to mock her and mistreat her. What could she possibly expect from the rest of the world?

She was so lost in her misery that she failed to notice when the adjoining door opened anew and Ms. Tita entered again, followed by someone.

The entire classroom burst into a fit of screaming and yelling that shook Sandra out of her pitiful reverie.

The little girl looked up in time to see two men walking in; one blond and slender, followed closely by a darker, curly-haired and slightly shorter man.

Sandra’s heart recognized them one second before her brain did. She jumped in her seat and covered her mouth with both hands, petrified at the sight she was beholding. Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were happy tears. She had heard very often the expression "to cry with happiness" and today, for the first time in her life, she understood what it meant. She understood the feeling right down to her quivering soul.

The two men stopped at the head of the class and turned, facing the ecstatic children, who inexplicably seemed glued to their seats. None of them seemed to think of standing up and rushing forward to them. Both of them smiled fondly, very pleased with the happiness they had brought to all those children.

Ms. Tita was standing beside the tall blond, moving her hands, trying to quiet the wild pandemonium.

"Children, children!! Easy now. Easy!!"

Sandra wasn’t clapping nor jumping about in her chair. She was frozen in her seat, hands still closed over her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks, not believing what she was seeing. It was one thing to see those two men on TV, and quite another to see them standing in her classroom, bigger-than-life, smiling warmly and even laughing a little at the children’s adorably spontaneous outburst.

Everything seemed surreal all of a sudden. It was as if she had crossed into another dimension. She seemed disconnected from this place, detached, as if looking at the scene from somewhere else. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably and her breathing got ragged and unsteady.

Somehow, there was a semblance of silence in the class and Ms. Tita took the opportunity.

"Now, children. One of you had this wish of meeting her heroes Starsky and Hutch. She followed her heart and reached for that dream, even knowing that it was almost impossible for it to come true. But sometimes, miracles happen. This is the living proof of that," she said, smiling at the two men beside her. "I can’t tell you how happy I am that she, she precisely, got her dream." She looked at the two men meaningfully, conveying it was their turn now.

The blond man looked at his curly-haired friend, who made a gesture with his hand, indicating he should proceed first. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a deep, warm voice. And in Spanish.

"Paul and I are here today because one of you sent us a letter a few weeks ago. We’re here because we wanted to meet her and tell her in person how happy we are to make her wish come true." His blue eyes searched the classroom until they settled on Sandra, several feet away from them. His smile widened and he reached out. "Sandra, will you come over here, please?" he asked.

Sandra’s heart seemed to beat right out of her chest. She swallowed convulsively and, not knowing how, she found herself on her feet and walking towards them. She was convinced she would trip and fall flat on her face, provoking her classmates’ hilarity, as usual. But those kind blue eyes seemed to be holding her safe and secure, until she was in front of them, looking up at those two giants, shaking, her hands deep into her smock’s pockets.

The two men immediately squatted down to her eyes’ level. They were both in jeans and shirts. David’s was navy blue and Paul’s was checked, with its long-sleeves rolled up.

"Hola, Sandra," David said, smiling tenderly. "I’m David." He pointed at his partner with his thumb. "And this is my friend Paul."

Somehow, Sandra found her voice.

"Hola, David," she whispered in a thin voice. She looked at the dark-haired man, blushing to the roots of her hair. "Hola, Paul," she choked on her words.

"We received your letter. We don’t know how, but we did," David went on in a pleasantly-accented and quite fluent Spanish. "And we decided to come here and meet you personally. We wanted to thank you for writing, and tell you that you don’t have to be lonely anymore, because Paul and I will always be your friends."

Sandra was blinking time and again, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. This couldn’t be real! This couldn’t be happening! Not to her! She had to be deep into one of her daydreams and she couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t anymore.

"Yes, we’re real," David said, as if he had read her thoughts. He reached out his hand again. "Pleased to meet you."

Sandra’s arm reached out of its own volition and she found her tiny hand shaken politely by David first, and then by Paul, who treated her to one of those incredible toothy grins that made the child’s heart sing.

"Mucho gusto, señorita," he said, with a heavier English accent that left pretty clear he didn’t speak Spanish, which explained why David was doing all the talking.

When Paul released her hand, Sandra looked down at it as if seeing it for the very first time. Her skin still tingled from their warm and friendly touch.

"Gracias," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Excuse me?" David asked, inching forward.

The floodgates opened inside Sandra’s heart at last, and the tears rolled freely down her face once more.

"T-Thank you for coming. Everybody was telling me that I was a fool for hoping. T-that I was a fool for the way I did it. They laughed at me and I wanted to die, because I knew they were right. I’m a fool. But I was lonely and I needed to write. I needed you so much!" she was babbling and she knew it, but still she couldn’t stop. She could feel her classmates’ eyes on her back like fire and she shrunk from them, edging instinctively closer to the two men. "S-so, thank you for coming. Thank you so very much!" She burst out crying and sought comfort in the person closest to her. She buried her face in the crook of David’s neck, trying to disappear there from her classmates’ prying stares.

David held her close and stood up with the little girl in his arms, trying to soothe her desperate, heartbreaking crying.

"Shhhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. Don’t cry, little one. Shhhh. Now, the three of us will leave here and we’ll have a wonderful weekend together. What do you say?" He cast a quick look at Paul, who promptly nodded, grinning widely.

"Really?" Sandra asked, raising her head from David’s shoulder and looking alternately from one man to the other. "Are we going to spend the whole weekend together?" She wiped her tears away clumsily with her fist.

"All of it, promise," David smiled.

Unable to resist those two shining smiles, Sandra smiled back at them. Paul reached out and wiped the remaining tears away from her face with his thumb.

Ms. Tita drew David’s attention then. She wanted to tell him something, so David passed Sandra on to his friend’s arms. The child clung to Paul’s neck, grabbing the collar of his shirt in her small hands. She craved the warmth and security of those men’s arms. Nothing bad could happen to her there. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to look down at her classmates’ faces. She didn’t want to know the way they were looking at her now. Instead of feeling stronger, she only wanted to cuddle up to them and disappear.

Then, David turned to Paul and told him something in English about them ‘signing’ something. Paul agreed and David turned to the little girl, speaking in Spanish now.

"Sandra, your teacher asked us to sign some autographs for your classmates. Would you mind waiting a little bit?" David asked her, caressing her cheek with a finger.

The child looked at her heroes and braved a smile.

"No, I don’t mind," she replied in a shaky voice, looking around her in a very expressive way.

They immediately understood her fear.

"It’ll be okay. You’re with us and nothing bad’s going to happen to you," David reassured her.

Drawing strength from their exhilarating and supportive presence, Sandra looked at them again and nodded emphatically once, feeling stronger now.

Paul smiled proudly at her and kissed her cheek, putting her softly down on the floor. He messed her short brown hair in a fatherly fashion that amazingly, filled her heart with more courage than she thought possible.

For the next fifteen minutes, David and Paul signed dozens of school notebooks and even a few pictures that a couple boys had in their portfolios, while Sandra watched them from behind, lost in her own dreamworld, that for once was completely in sync with the real world. They were funny and friendly and a delight to behold. The way they leaned toward each other and exchanged short, clipped sentences made her feel that they had their own code, their own private world as well. They occasionally elbowed each other and laughed like two boys. She could see Starsky and Hutch in them, and she understood that was the reason behind the magic of the series. The reality between them was just as beautiful, that was why she could see it on the screen.

She almost envied them for what they had; but after today, she could almost believe that one day, she would also find that one special friend who would fill her life like Starsky and Hutch filled each other’s lives.

Sandra only had eyes for them, and she forgot completely about the looks she could be getting from the other children. She was smiling from ear to ear, just looking at them, filling her every sense with their living presence so close by.

She was so absorbed watching their every movement and gesture, that she gave a start when David’s lovely voice shook her out of her reverie.

"Pick up your stuff, little lady," he said cheerfully. "We’re leaving."

Sandra looked at Paul then, who gave her a playful wink.

With a squeal of joy, the little girl hurried to her desk and put away her ruler, eraser, pencil and all her stuff, putting it in her backback and closing it. Next, she took off her smock and hung it from a hook on the wall, picking up her light spring coat.

Someone tapped her gently on the shoulder and she turned about. Paul was right behind her, smiling and pointing at her coat. Not knowing what he wanted, Sandra gave him her coat. Paul took it and held it for her.

"Señorita," he gallantly said, with a bow.

Blushing again, the little girl slipped into her coat with a muttered ‘thank you’ in English, and reached for her backpack.

David was faster and grabbed it first. He squatted down beside her again. Paul did the same.

"Are you ready?" David asked.

Sandra nodded, looking at them, absolutely mesmerized. She had never seen anything so beautiful. Those two men were gorgeous, each in his own special way. She loved their eyes. They were her favourite colour. Blue!

David tapped his cheek then, shamelessly asking for a kiss.

With a giggle, she complied, kissing him softly. He smelled nice. When she moved back, she instinctively looked at Paul, who was pouting like a lost puppy, pointing at his own cheek with a finger. Giggling again, she kissed the curly-haired man, who smelled good too, blushing like a beetroot now.

The two men sighed at the same time, and the three of them burst out laughing.

When the laughter subsided, David and Paul stood up and reached out a hand to her.

Feeling her heart singing inside her chest with more happiness than it could contain, Sandra took their proffered hands and followed them out of the classroom. The happiest weekend of the little loner’s young life was about to begin.

THE END.