There’s always Blondie’s house—I know her mom and aunt would take me in without question—but I can’t put that burden on them, and the truth is, I came here not only because ofmy parents and to avoid returning to school…but because I’m most afraid of facingher. Of seeing Blondie and her mom, and knowing there’s nothing more I can do to help them. I don’t want to run away from Blondie, from what we have, from what we could be, but I’m fucking terrified of letting her down. And right now, I feel like that’s all I’m doing—like I’m failing everyone in my life, both past and present. I’m sure she would tell me I’m being stupid—that I’ve already done plenty, especially with the fifty grand I sent her on Wednesday to see them through however many months of meds that will cover on top of what she already has from me, but still… It’s the future that scares me, the unknown.
The not knowing if I’ve done enough.
Flinging back the heavy gray blanket, I climb out of bed and plod to the kitchen, which is thankfully stocked with nonperishables, so there’s at least something to eat, even if that something is boxed pasta at ten a.m. on a Sunday. I’m just about to heat the jarred sauce I found in one of the cupboards in a saucepan on the stove when my phone buzzes on the marble counter beside me.
I hesitate for a second before flipping it over to glance down at the screen, expecting another text or call from Blondie—she’s tried roughly thirty times over the last three days, and it breaks my heart to ignore them. To ignoreher, even if I’m not in the right headspace to talk. Not until I figure out what I’m doing.
Instead, I find a message from my mother.
Madre
Please meet us for lunch at noon at Fernando’s. I know it’s been a tense few days but we need to talk.
My stomach curdles at the mention of the restaurant which serves as the backdrop for so many of my worst memories, and at the unspoken expectation weighing on those final four words.
We need to talk.
Talk about what? Their intent to disown me? To strip me of the Navarro name? Well, newsflash: I’m already aware. No need to spell it out for me or rub salt in the open wound.
I turn off the burner and slump down onto the stool at the breakfast bar, scowling down at my phone, reading and rereading the message. My mom doesn’t usually text me. At least, not about the serious stuff. That’s always left to my dad, the enforcer of rules, the executor of discipline and unrelenting disappointment.
I shouldn’t go. I should stay here where I’m safe and sheltered from their scrutiny and judgment. I should make a clean break. And yet…there’s a voice inside me that wonders if there’s still a chance, however small, that I can change their minds. Our relationship might be too broken to fix, but Hallazgo—I don’t want to let go of that. I don’t want to let go of my abuelo’s dream.Mydream. And I don’t want to just throw away everything Blondie and I have worked so hard on.
I slowly rise from the bar stool, resolved. If this is the only opportunity I’ll have to fight for what I want for my life…
Then I have to take it.
It’s exactly twelve o’clock when I yank open the door to Fernando’s, my palms slick with sweat. Coming here feels like a one-way ticket to heartache, but I have to do this. I owe it to my abuelo and Jamie to not give up without at least trying.
My pulse is a rapid cacophony of anticipation and fear as I step into the large sunlit dining room, the familiar sounds of the arpa jarocha in the corner doing little to settle my nerves, which rake along my insides like nails scratching at the underside of my skin. I swallow when my eyes land on my parents, sitting in their favorite spot by the window overlooking the marina, though their demeanors lack the usual dismissive sense of calm I’m accustomed to.
My father is tapping one finger against the bright white tablecloth, his eyes cast on the gleaming water outside, while my mother is chewing her thumbnail—literallychewingon it, destroying her three-hundred dollar manicure. If my manner-obsessed maternal grandparents were here to see this, they’d have a conniption.
My mom’s eyes catch on mine as I cross the room toward them, and her gasp is audible as she anxiously pats my father’s shoulder to get his attention. “There he is,” I hear her say, like someone eagerly awaiting the chance to meet their favorite celebrity, before she then jumps to her feet with a nervous smile.
“Come,” she breathes when I’m within earshot, hastily pulling out the chair between theirs. The only other free seat at the round table is in the same position on the opposite side, and I can’t help feeling that was intentional so I can’t put any breathing space between me and them. Specifically, between me and my dad. “Sit.” Her eyes are imploring, so I do as she asks and plop down on the seat.
Everything I plan to say to defend myself—to make them listen to me justonce—evaporates on my tongue when my father announces, “Your girlfriend came by the house yesterday.”
The cogs in my brain screech to a grinding halt as I try (and fail) to process what he’s said. So much for pleading my case, I guess.
“Lexi?” I ask.
I wince at the mocking voice in my head that shouts,Well done, genius. Who else would he be talking about?
As if reading my thoughts, my dad arches a brow and quips, “Do you haveanothergirlfriend that we’re unaware of?”
I practically choke on the breath that escapes me. “What?” I splutter. “No, I?—”
“She’s rather outspoken, isn’t she?” he muses, ignoring me in favor of the fork he now twists between his forefinger and thumb. “Not afraid to speak her mind.”
Is that an insult or a compliment?I wonder. With him, it could honestly be either.
I watch my dad carefully, feeling completely bamboozled, and as my mouth snaps shut, I frown at him, torn over what to say. To do. Did Blondie offend him? Should I apologize on her behalf?
Do I even care?
Fuck that,I decide. I’m not apologizing for shit, and I learned my lesson about doinganythingon behalf of my girl. Besides, the only thing I’m sorry about is that I wasn’t there to hear it. I can only imagine what she must have said for them to feel the need to summon me today.
