urge to shove him away from me. None of this is his fault. In fact, Alejandro is one of the few people who helps me out from time to time. Occasionally, I’ll find an envelope of cash on my windshield to help pay for anything Daniela needs. “I heard what you did for that no-good nephew of mine, too.” He means Jorgie. “I want you to call me if you ever need anything, okay?”
When I don’t nod, he adds, “En serio. You’re probably the only guy I know who deserves good things in life.” His eyes wander to Ellie and then he smirks at me. “?Quién es la chula?” Who’s the girl?
My entire body stiffens. “Nadie importante,” I bite out even if an unsettling note of dishonesty vibrates down my spine. I push the feeling away. She isn’t important, not in the way he’s suggesting. “It’s late,” I say, hoping to bring this to an end. “Ma, ya vámonos.”
She turns a hazy expression on me as I reach for her hand to pull her up. I’m beyond grateful that it seems like she’ll be able to walk on her own.
“Gracias, Tío,” I say as we clasp hands and hug awkwardly because I need to keep a grip on my mother’s elbow.
“De nada. Y Lilia,” he says, addressing my mother. “Si te veo con ese pendejo otra vez . . . ya sabes.”
I don’t even want to know what asshole Alejandro caught her with or why he’s bad news. After all the drama over the years, I couldn’t be less interested in my mother’s bad decisions.
We both ignore her when she drunkenly mutters something about the only asshole being Alejandro.
We shuffle toward Ellie, and I can’t bring myself to look at her with all this shitty embarrassment running through my veins. She pushes off the wall to join us and I’m bracing myself for my mom’s commentary, but she unexpectedly keeps her mouth shut. Ellie too, remains quiet as we make our way back to the truck. I have to catch my mother when she stumbles in her heels a few times, but other than that, she makes it under her own steam.
On the way home, the sleeping, or more probably passed-out, drunk seated between us makes conversation with Ellie impossible. The awkward atmosphere in the truck is thick and I hate that our new friendship might be affected by this twisted turn of events.
Dropping her off in front of her building isn’t very pleasant either, though she’s a good sport about everything.
“Thanks,” she whispers over my mother’s head, “for everything. I had a good time.”
When I give her a sarcastic look, she smiles weakly, suddenly hesitant. “Okay, well, bye.”
I know I should get out and talk to her, tell her that I had a good time too, thank her for making me laugh and going to the movies with me, but I can’t muster the energy. I’m just so fucking tired. I swear, someday soon, something’s gotta give.
Ellie
The little niggle of melancholy with which I begin the week, really starts to weigh on me by the end of it. Ostensibly, I tell myself it’s because my period makes an appearance, but by Friday it becomes more and more obvious that Scott is at the heart of the matter. It’s stupid, really. I don’t even know how it happened, but somehow, somewhere along the line, I started to expect things from him, things that failed to materialize since I haven’t heard a peep out of him all week.
Sure, maybe I could have reached out to him . . . but those two little words have been looming darkly in the back of my mind. Two little words I wasn’t meant to understand, but ones he uttered with so much conviction.
Nadie importante.
I’ve done my best to be objective about it. I am no one important to him. I’ve only technically known him for three weeks. So what if we’ve hung out a few times? And shared a few laughs? That doesn’t make us BFF’s. It makes us acquaintances.
So why does it hurt? If he was just some guy, I’d cut him loose in a heartbeat. The last thing I need is another person in my life who views me as disposable or convenient. But Scott isn’t some guy. He’s my stranger, my knight in shining armor. I know he’s a good person. Just maybe not good for me?
I sigh.
Pulling off my ball cap, I turn my face up into the late afternoon