than necessary.”
They know who the him I’m talking about is, so I don’t have to explain it.
“You should have said something. You know J.D. would…”
“I love you Gracie, but no.” I place my hand on hers before she can even finish. “I know if I’d said something last year, you’d have done the same. And I appreciate and love you for it, but I hate feeling like I owe people something.”
“I’m not just somebody.”
“You’re my friend, it only makes it worse.”
Grace sighs. “I want to say I don’t understand, but I do.”
We share a knowing look. I knew if anybody would be able to understand me it’s her.
Grace didn’t always come from money. She spent the first twelve years of her life living with her addict mother, until her half-brother finally found out about her and dug her out of the shithole that was her life.
Mom and I never had much, but we had each other. I had a roof over my head, food on my plate, and somebody who loved me. Grace didn’t have any of those things.
“So yeah, now I don’t know what will happen. My grades are down, so the scholarship is out of the question. I had a fight with Coach, and even if I didn’t, I’m not sure I’d be able to go back. We don’t have the money to pay for tuition. I guess I’ll just have to take a year off or something to save some money and come back in the future.”
That will suck, but not getting my degree is out of the question. I’m not going to disappoint Mom like this. I’m not going to disappoint myself like this.
So what if it’ll take longer? It wouldn’t be the first time I had to take a harder route to get to my goal. And yeah, my friends will probably finish college by then, but that’s a good thing. At least that way I won’t have to see Nixon’s stupid face and different girls hanging on his arm.
Yes, this will be a good thing. It doesn’t matter that my heart hurts just at the thought of never seeing his stupid face again. I’ll get over it. Somehow, some way, I will.
“Nonsense!” Mom says harshly, her fist pounding against the table and making it rattle. “You’ll do no such…”
“María.”
Every cell in my body tenses at the sound of his voice.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
We should have sat inside, but I wasn’t thinking. I never, not once, saw him even close to the café, so what were the chances he’d come now?
I meet my mom’s gaze and can see the recognition flash on her face. How will she react? From what I know, it’s been years. Years since she saw the man who left her pregnant and never bothered to look back. This is what I was afraid of, them coming face to face after all this time. All because of me.
Slowly, I turn around to face him. “Coach,” I say curtly, glaring at him.
“Jeremy,” is Mom’s only greeting. She sounds cool and composed, not even close to the mess I’m feeling inside.
“W-what are you doing here?”
He’s clearly surprised, but I can’t decipher if it’s positive or negative. He knew I was here, so he should have known there was a chance Mom might come. He’s been asking about her, no matter how many times I told him to stop and let it go.
“I came to visit my daughter at college.” Mom lifts her chin a little bit higher. Seeing them stand so close together is unnerving. They’re so different from one another, from the way they look to their backgrounds and who they are as people. How did they end up together?
I wrap my hand around mom’s and tug. “Ven, vámonos.”
“No, no te puedes ir,” Coach says, his hand jolting forward but stopping himself before he touches us. His tone is pleading, his Spanish rusty. How did I not know he speaks Spanish? His throat bobs as he swallows. “Can we talk, María? Please?”
Mom watches him carefully before nodding once. “Take Grace for a walk, Yasmin.”
“But, Mom, you can’t…”
She turns toward me, eyebrows raised.
“You don’t have to do this. It’ll be okay.” I won’t have her beg him to clean up this mess I created. No way.
“No, I have to do this.” Mom gives me a reassuring smile, and a little push to get me going. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” I concede, but turn to Coach to give him a warning glare. “We won’t be far.