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jawabear · 3 years

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Online Match (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: this was suggested but the lovely @bensolobutterflies who suggested about Marcus falling for Missy’s teacher. And this is such a Marcus trope so I had to do it! I hope this is acceptable. I got a little political about teacher somewhere in the middle but hopefully it’s not too bad. The messaging parts might be laid out a little weirdly. I didn’t really know how else to lay it out but I tired to make it decent? Again, I used Spanish but I don’t speak it so it may be wrong. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, Marcus being a soft boy, Missy and Anita being match makers, nerves, just whole lotta fluff

Summary: When Missy signs him up for online dating, Marcus wonders whether the girl he really likes will be on there too...

The first time he had met her, it was her first week. She had hosted a parents meeting, not just do discuss the wellbeing of the children she taught but to introduce herself to the parents.

Now Marcus wasn’t one who believed his love at first sight. He had always said that you don’t fall in love with someone before you even know them. But when he first saw (Y/N), he fell deeper than he ever had before.

Perhaps it was just his want to be with some that was lurking deep deep inside him that caused him to fall for her so quickly. Or maybe it was because she just seemed so...perfect. Everything about her was just perfect. Her hair, her eyes, her nose, her smile, the way she spoke, the way she dressed. All of it was just perfect. And he liked her. A lot.

But he thought it would be complicated. Dating his daughters teacher was sure to come with complications. No doubt there was a rule against it somewhere. Most likely he would come out okay, but he didn’t want to risk her possibly loosing her job. Not that he would ever admit his feelings for her. He wasn’t brave enough to jump back into the dating pool. Although both Missy and his mother had been hounding him about it for months now.

They had both noticed how lonely he seemed. Of course he would always say that he didn’t need anyone so long as he had them, but they both knew he needed someone. He needed to start dating again. Missy was making that very clear to him.

“So Dad, I was thinking that we sign you up for online dating” she said nonchalantly as she munched on her dinner. Marcus nearly chocked on his coffee at her words.

“Missy” he said, wiping his mouth to ensure no coffee had spilled “have you and Abuela been discussing this again?”

“We’re just trying to make sure your happy, Dad. You deserve someone to love and someone who loves you back”

“I have you, honey” he smiled “I love you”

“I love you too. But seriously. You deserve someone. You’ve had to be both dad and mum. It would be good to split it” Marcus didn’t respond to this, so Missy carried on “so, we signed you up for online dating”

“You what?” He almost yelled.

“We signed you up for online dating” she repeated. “Here” she grabbed his phone from his hand and went about downloading the dating app do his phone. He watched in interest as she signed him in. “See”

“Why would you do that?”

“Maybe this will be a bit easier for you to get back into dating instead of doing it the old fashioned way of actually going out and talking to people. I mean, get with the times dad”

“The last time I dated someone, going out and talking to people were the times” he chuckled as he took his phone back. “It’s getting late Missy” he said looking at the time on his phone “hurry and finish your food” he told her. He stood and took his now empty coffee mug over to the sink and washed it out before placing it on the side.

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought her plate over to the sink, he could clean it tomorrow. “Up to bed” he told her whilst rustling her hair. She sighed and dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom.

Marcus headed upstairs a short while later and peaked his head into her room to see she was just getting into her bed “you got everything you need?” He asked her. She nodded in response “okay. Night Missy”

“Night Dad” she yawned before rolling over and pulling the covers over her. He pulled her door shut and made his way to his own room, where he stripped off his shirt and jeans and grabbed his pyjamas bottoms and slipped those in before climbing into his bed.

Try as he might, sleep never seemed to come easy to Marcus. He tossed and turned for ages and still sleep didn’t come. Even when it would, it would last long. He was a light sleeper thanks to his job as a Heroic. He was quick to give up on trying to get to sleep and reached for his phone instead. Hoping that somehow that could make his tired.

Marcus lay in bed holding his phone staring at his profile on this dating app that he had been signed up too. He had to admit, they did a good job at making it. It definitely did show his best features, but it wasn’t like people didn’t know who he was. But it showed perhaps a more unknown side of him.

Even so, most of the people who messaged him only really did because he was the Leader of the Heroics. He wasn’t about that. He didn’t want to be with someone just because of his title. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted someone who would like him for him.

Marcus bit his lip as he thought. He wondered. Wondered if (Y/N) would be on there. It wouldn’t hurt to check right? There’s no harm in just seeing if she was in there. But he hesitated. He thought it was a little weird. But it wasn’t like he would have to message her if she were on there.

He bit the bullet and searched her name. Surprisingly to him, there were actually quite a few on there. He scrolled down and down looking at each profile for her. He wasn’t holding on to much hope that she was on there, but she was. The second to last profile was her. He clicked on it and was put into a trance by her profile picture. It was a sweet picture of her with what he guessed was her dog. He didn’t know she had a dog. Not that that was a problem. He loved dogs.

His thumb hovered over the chat icon on his screen. He debated with himself for a solid minute about whether he should message her. Would it be weird? It was late, she would probably be asleep. But he could say hi. Right?

So he did. He wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to do it. The few seconds it took him to type out his message of ‘Hi (Y/N)’ and send it just seemed to be a moment of black in his memory.

“Shit” he swore audibly. He messed about trying to figure out how to delete the message but he couldn’t. “Shit shit shit” he whispered sharply as he sat up and threw his phone to the foot of his bed in embarrassment.

He buried his head in his hands, filled with instant regret. How would he be able to face her now? Surely she would hate him. Think he was weird. Now he would never have a chance with her.

A soft ding came from his phone to indicate he had a notification. To be honest, at first, he didn’t twig that it could’ve been from her. He just assumed it was from something else. But when he looked at his phone he saw it was a notification from the dating app.

She had replied.

(Y/N): Hi Marcus. This is a surprise

What did that mean? Was she happy he messaged her? Was she just being nice? Was he looking too deep into this? Yes, probably.

Marcus: a good surprise?

(Y/N): Yes. A good surprise :)

Marcus smiled at her message.

Marcus: it’s pretty late. Why are you still up?

(Y/N): I’m lesson planning

Marcus: lesson planning at 10:30?

(Y/N): a usual night for me. Why are you still up?

Marcus: I’m used to not sleeping. My job often required all nighters.

He felt like such a teenager. Staying up late talking to the girl he liked. They spoke all through the night. It was nice. He didn’t feel obliged to say anything particularly to her. They were just talking. Getting to know each other better from what they already did.

Marcus was smiling throughout the whole of their interaction and was wondering if she was doing the same. He wondered if she was as happy to be talking to him as he was talking to her.

She was.

She had completely abandoned her laptop for her phone. The lesson planning being forgotten. He was all she was thinking about. He was all she wanted to think about. Because he had reached out to her, she began to wonder if maybe he liked her back. Surly he must’ve right? Other wise he wouldn’t have messaged her in the first place.

Then she thought that he must’ve looked for her. She thought it was unlikely that she would just happen to pop up on his app. This made her heart flutter and she smiled brighter. Even though it was over messages, she hadn’t had as nice a conversation as that one in a very long time. She wasn’t the most sociable person, which made any one who knew her question as to why she became a teacher. She didn’t really have much of a life outside the classroom (so she matched the classics idea that students had about teachers).

They talked until gone midnight and Marcus decided to call it there for the night. He knew that she probably needed to rest before having to teach the next day. But he didn’t want to stop talking to her. He was really enjoying himself. But he had to be fair to her. Just because he couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean he had to stop her from sleeping too.

Marcus: it’s really late (Y/N). You should go to sleep.

(Y/N): I didn’t realise that was the time!

There was a slight pause before she messaged him again.

(Y/N): I really enjoyed talking to you Marcus. Like...really enjoyed it. It was nice to just talk.

He smiled brightly at this, knowing she felt the same about their conversation as he did made him happy.

Marcus: I’ve enjoyed it too (Y/N). I don’t really get the chance to just talk to people now really

There was another pause. This one was longer than the last and it made him a little anxious.

(Y/N): can we talk again tomorrow?

He had to hold back his cheer. His heart leapt with joy in his chest at her words. It didn’t seem anything extravagant really, but it meant she wanted to talk to him. Maybe she did like him back. It was now that he was kind of thankful that they weren’t talking face to face. He could hide his initial reaction from her.

Marcus: of course. I’d like that

(Y/N): I’d like that too. I better get some sleep. Goodnight Marcus.

Marcus: goodnight (Y/N)

Marcus dropped his phone to his chest and beamed up at the ceiling. He hadn’t felt that happy in a very very long time.

Over the next few week, they continued to talk. They got closer and closer. And they learnt more about each other with every message. And with every message, they feel more for each other. But if they saw each other in person, because of the school setting, they didn’t show that they had been talking.

But Missy was becoming suspicious of Marcus. He was on his phone a lot more often than usual. But any time she tried to ask what he was doing, he would always just say nothing and put his phone down.

And then the fateful day came where he finally asked her out. They had been talking throughout the day but Marcus thought it was time they actually move the growing relationship further. After all, that’s what the site was for.

Marcus: (Y/N). I’ve been thinking...

(Y/N): about what?

Marcus: well...This is a dating site. So would you want to go on a date with me? An actual date?

There was a long pause. A very long pause. Marcus’s heart sank. Maybe she didn’t want to go any further than a friendship. Had he made things awkward now? Had he completely ruined his chance with her?

(Y/N): Absolutely!! I’d love to go on a date with you Marcus! xx

The two kisses at the end made his cheeks burn slightly. He felt relief in his heard and went about making plans with her for their date. They decided on dinner. A classic first date. It wasn’t to anywhere overly fancy, god knows teachers don’t get paid enough to eat in fancy restaurants. They set a day and a time and Marcus couldn’t contain his excitement.

He couldn’t hide it from Missy anymore.

“Okay” she said annoyed, filing her arms as she stood in the kitchen door way as he leant on the counter next to the sink. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird. You’re way happier than normal. Tell me Dad”

Marcus turned to look at his daughter and set his phone down. “You really want to know?” He asked.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed.

“Alright. Fine” he drew in a deep breath and pushed himself up so he was standing up straight “I’ve...met someone”

“What?!” She beamed “you have? This is amazing! Is she nice? Is she pretty? Are you going on a day with her?”

“Yes, yes and yes” he said quietly “Friday. At 6. Will you be okay is Grandma comes and looks after you while I’m out?”

“Only if I get to meet your new girlfriend!”

“I wouldn’t say she’s my girlfriend just yet” Marcus laughed nervously “but she’s coming here first before we go, so yes, you will get to meet her. Just...don’t be...disappointed or weirded out by who it is”

“I won’t be! She must be something to make you keep smiling all the time! This is so awesome! I have to go tell Abuelita!”

“Wait you don’t have to-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before she had run off upstairs to call her grandma.

Marcus shook his head and looked back at his phone.

Marcus: Missy seemed pretty excited that I’ve got a date

(Y/N): did you tell her who it was? xx

Marcus: no. I wanted it to be a surprise. Do you want me to tell her?

(Y/N): I don’t mind. If you want to wait, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just excited for Friday!! xx

Marcus: I’m excited too. I’m so excited. I know it doesn’t really seem like it. But I’m still it very good at the whole technology thing

(Y/N): oh Marcus! You make yourself out to be so much older than you are! But I can tell you’re excited. Xx

(Y/N): I’ve got to go. But I’ll try and talk to you a little later xx

Marcus: okay x

The days between then and Friday seemed to drag on. The world just wanted to make them wait it seemed. They talked their nights away when they could, in hopes that would speed up the time. And then finally Friday evening rolled around. And Marcus was freaking out.

“You’ll be fine, mijo” Anita told her son in a knowing voice as she held up her hand to try and calm him as he messed with the sleeves of his shirt “when you see your beautiful date all your worries will fade away”

Marcus glanced up at her but then looked back down at his sleeves “Espero que tengas razón Mamá” (I hope you’re right, mama) he muttered.

“por supuesto que tengo razón! He estado mal antes” (of course I’m right! I’ve never been wrong before) Anita said almost proudly making Missy laugh quietly. This is turn cause Marcus to smile. But that smile fell when the doorbell rang.

Marcus’ face paled. Was it 6 already?

“Dad!” Missy called to him, pulling him from his trance. He looked at her and she motioned for him to head for the door. He stood abruptly and walked towards the door. He took in a deep breath before pulling it open to reveal (Y/N). She flashed him a bright smile and he looked her up at down to see she was wearing a long light blue dress. It wasn’t overly fancy but it looked beautiful.

“Hi Marcus” she said quietly.

“Hi...(Y/N)” he said slowly trying to regain his composure (not that he ever had it in the first place). “Y-You look amazing!”

“Thank you. I’m not too over dressed am I?” She asked looked down at the dress she had chosen.

“No, you’re fine. More than fine. Beautiful actually” he said quickly.

She blushed slightly at his compliment and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear “thank you Marcus” she said “you look nice too. Very handsome”

He couldn’t really say anything. He was too flustered. He let out a small noise and stepped to the side “come in. I um..I need to grab my jacket” she nodded and stepped inside his house, awkwardly following him as he walked into the kitchen.

She stumbled backwards a little when she saw Missy and his mother sat there. She had met Anita on a few occasions, she came to pick Missy up from school a few times. They both looked a little in shock to see her stood there whilst Marcus rooted around for his jacket.

“Miss (L/N)?!” Missy exclaimed.

“Hey Missy” (Y/N) said. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so nervous. It was just weird to be seeing her out of the school setting.

“It’s you? You’re the one my Dad is going on a date with?” She asked.

“Um...yes. I am” (Y/N) said. She looked over to Marcus who had managed to locate his jacket, slipping it on. “It’s not...weird...is it?”

“No!” Missy smiled “this is great! This is awesome! I knew it would be you!”

Both (Y/N) and Marcus let out quiet breaths of relief “she’s a beautiful girl Marcus. And I know she has a kind heart” Anita said with a gentle smile. (Y/N) felt Marcus’ hand on her lower back. The small action spread a comforting warmth through her body “now go! Have fun!”

Marcus briefly left (Y/N)’s side to kiss Missy’s head before walking (Y/N) back to the door. They left the house and he walked her to his car “well I think that went well” she said with a nervous laugh.

“It went better than I expected” he said “I thought she would be a little bit weirded out”

“Me too. But I’m glad she wasn’t. And I’m glad your mum took a liking to me too”

“I doubt anyone could not like you (Y/N)” she got in the passenger side of his car whilst he got in the drivers seat. “I, for one, like you. A lot”

“I like you too Marcus. A lot” she leaned over with the intention of kissing his cheek, but he turned at the last second making her lips land on his. That had to have been a scripted event. But neither of them was complaining. They both smiled into the kiss before she pulled back and pulled on her seatbelt.

“Shall we go?” He asked, an ear to ear grin on his face.

“Definitely”

10/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

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kuramirocket · 3 years

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Growing up in California in my grandmother's house, surrounded by tías, tíos, and all my cousins, I always felt a deep connection to my Mexican-American roots. Every generation of my father's family has had incredibly different experiences that reflect much about American history.

My great-grandfather on my abuela's side, Daniel Martinez, grew up in Mexico and immigrated to Los Angeles. Eventually, he saved enough money to open a neighborhood market, which is where he met my great-grandmother, Guadalupe Miranda Martinez. She had come from Mexico to Los Angeles with her mother and brother as a young teenager. They soon married and began having children. When he lost his business in the 1920s, the family turned to migrant farm work. They were forced to use segregated water fountains and bathrooms and my darker-skinned tíos and tías were sent to Mexican schools, while those with light skin and blonde or red hair were allowed to attend schools with white students.

Unhappy with the segregated schools, my great-grandfather joined up with other families to open the East Barrio School for Latinos in Claremont, CA — fighting the status quo is part of my heritage! They taught reading and writing in Spanish and learned Mexican history at a time when it was hard to show pride about being Mexican.

My great-grandfather on my abuelo's side, Catalino Alba, came from Mexico during the Revolution. He met my great-grandmother when he immigrated to Gallup, NM, where he helped build the Santa Fe Railroad. He was a musician and inspired my abuelo José Alba to sing, practice traditional Mexican dance, and become an accomplished classical guitarist. As a child, there was never a family party where my abuelo didn't play guitar while my abuela, tíos and tías, and cousins sang along. Perhaps this is where I got my love for the performing arts!

My great-grandfather moved to San Bernardino, CA, to work on the railroad and my abuelo José Alba grew up in the barrio where he and his siblings slept head to foot. With little food at home, he often asked the neighbors for fruit from their fruit trees. He was compelled to eat dirt, which he later learned was a natural response to the lack of iron that he needed in his diet. As a kid, he wasn't allowed to swim in a public pool without a certification of vaccination. He would often get glass stuck in his shoes because the soles were so thin and worn out — he couldn't afford anything else. At one point, glass punctured his foot, and as a result he developed lockjaw, which was nearly fatal.

When he could work, he made money selling oranges and picking potatoes. He says the first thing he did when he had money was to go down to Main Street to have his shoes shined by a young boy. He told that boy that he would come every week because he knew he was trying to make his own way too.

There were 12 kids in the family and my abuelo is proud that his mom figured out a way to send them to school as soon as it was possible. She understood the value of education. Even though it was hard for them, she made it a priority.

This is my abuelo and abuela's wedding above — so classic. I always thought our ancestors were Spanish, but I learned through genetic testing that they were Native American, with roots that may go back as far as the Mayan civilization. We've been here from the beginning!

My parents, Mark and Catherine Louisa Alba, were so different . . . but they had the same hairstyle! I know that when my dad was growing up it was difficult for him and his parents to be Mexican-American. The hyphen wasn't an option back then.

My abuelo had only learned English when he transferred to grammar school at around 6 years old, and he was way behind as a result. Like many others of their generation, my grandparents didn't teach their children, including my dad, to speak Spanish. My abuelo says that he didn't even think about it, but I wonder if he associated it with a difficult transition in his life.

I want my girls to embrace their Latino roots, know how much we have contributed to this country, and understand that the road ahead is richer when we acknowledge and embrace our heritage. I want them to learn Spanish like their great-grandparents. I'm incredibly proud of my diverse heritage and I want my daughters to feel the same way.

Jessica Alba is something of a triple threat: She's managed to achieve major success as an actress, fashion designer, and business mogul. It's hard to imagine anyone not wanting to work with Alba, but early in her career she had a hard time getting roles because of her race.

"They couldn't figure out my ethnicity," Alba said. "I would always go out for 'exotic.' They were like, 'You're not Latin enough to play a Latina, and you're not Caucasian enough to play the leading lady, so you're going to be the "exotic" one.' Whatever that was."

Of course, Alba eventually ended up starring in hits like Fantastic Four, Into the Blue, and Good Luck Chuck. So, yeah, it's safe to say she proved those people wrong.

And not only is this actress leading by example; she's also taking steps to change the game herself. The creation of Alba's cosmetics line, Honest Beauty, which she founded as part of her brand, The Honest Company, in 2015, stemmed from her own struggles as a young girl trying to find a foundation that matched her unique complexion. "I didn't feel like, when I was younger, that there were a lot of things offered to women of color," she said.

So Alba went out and made her own. "The philosophy around starting this beauty line is about enhancing who you are instead of cover up and turn you into somebody else," she said.

Jessica Alba’s startup The Honest Company is a veritable success — approaching over $350 million in sales during a year in which many companies struggled — but venture capitalists turned up their noses to the idea at first.

In 2009, Alba had a real issue: She couldn’t find baby products for her newborn that were guaranteed to be safe and eco-friendly. After having an allergic reaction to one of the allegedly baby-safe detergents she bought, she developed her idea the same way many successful entrepreneurs get started: She pitched building the solution she herself wished was on the market.

Alba pitched serial entrepreneur Brian Lee on her idea, who reportedly passed after saying it wasn't “very promising.” The feeling that others don’t see potential in you or your business idea is a familiar frustration for budding entrepreneurs. At the time, Alba remarked that she felt nobody took her seriously as an entrepreneur, or even believed in her idea, even though she knew there would be demand.

But just five years later, The Honest Company reached unicorn status, valued at over one billion dollars. What changed in those five years that let her take her failed pitch to becoming a success story?

To perfect your pitch, experiment

Fast forward to 2012. Alba is now in Washington, lobbying for an update to reform the 1976 Toxic Substances Control Act. Buoyed by her growing knowledge on the subject, she went back to Lee and pitched him again.

This time, her deck was much more concise, down to less than 30 minutes from start to finish. In a world where most entrepreneurs give up after a rejection or two, Alba instead had spent the years between their two meetings pitching her idea to friends, getting holes poked in her positioning,and answering each and every supply chain question that arose.

Another change had happened over the last three years: Venture capitalists like Lee, whom she was pitching, had all started young families. Alba’s pitch was rock solid, and as an added bonus her prospective investors wanted the product themselves.

Lee said yes to the second pitch. The first year The Honest Company was in business, it reported an astonishing $12 million in revenue, a number that has only increased each year. After facing initial rejection on her pitch, Alba’s decision to persevere has led The Honest Company to dramatic success.

At first, everyone told Alba she should start with one product, then expand once that was successful. But this didn’t gel with Alba’s vision of a complete line of baby-safe products; the founder knew parents who wanted clean products wanted a brand that could provide multiple solutions.

Ultimately, Alba ignored the conventional advice and launched with 17 products, which many people believed was too many. But because she didn’t compromise on that, either to venture capitalists or herself, the launch was a total success.

Sources: (×) (x) (x) (×)

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sulkybbarnes · 4 years

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“I can’t help but think we just didn’t do right by you somehow. You won’t tell me who you are. Did we teach you shame? Did I teach you that? Cause it would break my heart if I had. Can’t you see what a good job God did here. Can’t you see how beautiful he made you?” -Big Eden (2000)

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Eddie sits in his car for a long time, head bowed and his hands gripping at the steering wheel. If it weren’t for the tense shoulders and the white knuckled grip he might look as if he was praying. Maybe part of him is praying. For courage, for acceptance, for a lighter heart. Between him and all of that stands an ocean of turmoil and whirling thoughts.

Eddie isn’t exactly panicking, but he might be a few breaths away from it. For him, panic isn’t quickened breaths and swimming vision. It’s rigidity and a weight that sits heavily in his stomach. It’s fire spreading through his chest and into his limps, rendering him motionless, even when his brain races at the speed of light. Part of him wants to turn back, drive home, make dinner for his son, maybe call Buck to see if he’d join them. However, since Buck is part of the problem, that course of action might not be the wisest.

Eddie sucks in a deep breath then let it out slowly. He isn’t afraid of his feelings for Buck any more than he was afraid to acknowledge his attraction to men. In his later years of life, after having a kid and a twice failed marriage, Eddie has become a pragmatic and introspective creature. Things just are to him. He takes them, examines them with care, then places them in place when he’s done looking at them. Sure, the process isn’t quite as clean or clinical as he makes it sound, but the end result of it is the same, no matter how long he dwells on an issue.

So, yes, Eddie isn’t afraid of being attracted to men, part of him had always known that. Examined it, folded it neatly, and placed it on a shelf in his mind that he didn’t dust often. He isn’t afraid of his feelings for Buck. These are a steady, comforting thing that Eddie has grown accustomed to in the months since he first allowed himself to look at them. Something so good and true can’t be frightening, Eddie has decided a while ago and left it at that.

What does frighten Eddie however is two things, and these two things seem to be intertwined together beyond any hope of Eddie untangling the mess of them. However he looks at them, Eddie cannot separate the two. Eddie needs to talk to Buck about his feelings for him, and he needs to tell his family about how he feels.. in general. About how he loves. About the way his heart beats. It isn’t a requirement, and he knows deep in his bones that he doesn’t owe any of them a declaration of his sexuality or who he is. But. This is a conversation over a decade in the making, and Eddie who is a father, a firefighter, and a goddamn adult refuses to cower for another month or year.

And so, Eddie needs to tell Buck how he feels about him, and for him to do that, Eddie needs to tell his family that he’s bisexual. To have at least one person from his family to back him up when things inevitably go south with his parents after both revelations. Two things he needs to do, and they are tightly knotted in his mind. He could have told Buck first. Could have had whatever outcome that yielded to decide the next steps for him, but that’s not what this is about. Whether Buck takes or rejects him, Eddie needs to do this for himself.

One person, Eddie repeats like a mantra. Just one person, Diaz.

Eddie lets out a final shuddering breath, releases his death grip on the steering wheel, and makes the short walk to his abuela’s house.

He sends a silent prayer to the universe before he knocks.

----

No matter how old he is, the smell of his abuela’s house stays comforting. Eddie’s relationship with his parents was tumultuous at times as he grew up, his parents approval ebbing and flowing depending on what standards he failed to meet. They were never bad parents, but they weren’t big on comfort either. Theirs was a house of discipline throughout Eddie’s life, and so his grandmother’s house was a haven in comparison. One filled with his abuela’s warmth and her never ending quest to stuff him with comfort food.

Eddie could have gone to his sisters for this. He knows that would have made far more sense, with his sisters being younger and generally more open minded. He could have gone to his aunt too, who wielded a non-nonsense attitude and a keen eye for details and who probably already had an inkling about Eddie’s feelings for his best friend. Beyond his parents, his abuela might very well be the second hardest option, but possibly the most important one. Which is why he decided to start here. He curses his own decision making skills not for the first time today.

Whatever the outcome of this conversation is, he tells himself, it will be a hurdle he has cleared. One part of the knot unwinded.

“Are you going to tell me what’s troubling you, Edmundo?” His grandmother sighs from where she sits on the couch across from him. “You’ve been too far inside your own head since you arrived. Tell me what’s wrong.”

To his horror, the gentle tone makes Eddie’s eyes sting. He taps against his knee twice and sits a steaming mug down, trying to figure out where to start.

“You’re right,” Eddie begins, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” He looks at her for a long moment, waiting for her encouraging nod before he goes on. “I’ve been keeping something from you and everyone else for a long time. I thought it didn’t matter much. That it won’t hurt anyone if it stays hidden and I don’t act on it. But it’s hurting me, abuela. It’s been hurting me for a long time now, more than I ever thought possible.”

Eddie wills his voice to stay steady but it must give him away, because his abuela moves to sit beside him. She reaches out and puts her hand on top of his, squeezing once.

“What is hurting you, Eddie? I never want anything to hurt you. Tell me.”

“There’s someone I have feelings for, someone I might be in love with,” The words tumbling out of order, without his permission. His abuela’s face clears, she smiles, and begins to speak but Eddie desperately shakes his head at her, so she keeps listening instead. “It’s not just that. It’s a man. The person I have feelings for is a man. That’s what I- it’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Eddie waits for a reprimand. He waits for shock or disgust or anger. It doesn’t come.

Instead, several agonizing moments later, Isabel Diaz makes a wounded noise, followed by a deep sigh. She raises her hand to cup Eddie’s face and gently tugs until he’s looking at her. Eddie is ashamed to admit he almost flinches at the gesture.

“I see,” She says, her eyes watering. “It’s us who have been hurting you. Did we teach you shame? Is that what we did?” She questions.

Eddie doesn’t answer her. Where his eyes stung before, now there are tears gathering and spilling down his cheeks. Eddie doesn’t move to wipe them off. They have earned their release.

“You’re not angry?” Eddie asks instead.

“At you? No, never. At the rest of us? yes. I won’t lie, Eddie, I never expected this, but that’s on me not on you.” She sighs again, “I’m an old woman, heaven knows how much I’ve known and seen. Maybe.. maybe years ago I would have been less generous, and I don’t claim to understand it fully now, but I never want you to be ashamed of who you are. I never want you to hurt because of us.”

Eddie feels his shoulders sagging with relief, a breath leaves him and it sounds wrenched and ragged despite his efforts at quelling. His grandmother pulls him down until his head rests against her shoulder, she wipes at the back of his head and murmurs comforting words in both English and Spanish. They set like that for long moments, Eddie feeling as if he can fully exhale for the first time in years, and his grandmother speaking softly with her arms wrapped around him.

“How long have you known? Does anyone else know?” She asks after a while.

Eddie pulls back and wipes at his face, smiling when he’s instantly offered some tissues and a now-cooling cup of coffee.

“I’ve always known, I think, that I like both men and women. Since I was a kid. And, no, no one else knows. You’re the first person I’m telling,” He answers truthfully. He hadn’t even told Shannon about this. “I know they won’t be happy when it comes out. I just can’t hold it anymore.”

The “they” in question don’t need to be named. His abuela is as familiar with his parents’ set of beliefs as he is.

“Maybe not at first, but they’ll come around. People change with time, and your parents have good hearts.” His grandmother says with such conviction that he almost believes her. “And until then, you know your sisters will be on your side. Your Aunt Josephine too, and me.”

“Thanks, abuela,” Eddie smiles at her gratefully and kisses her cheek. He feels dizzy with relief. Nothing that comes after this will be as difficult.

“Now, tell me about that man of yours. Who is he?” His grandmother’s serious gaze lands on him, but her lips twitch with a smile. Eddie feels heat rushing to his face as if he’s twelve again and caught trying to sneak chocolates from the chocolate box.

“He’s not mine,” Eddie mumbles, and his abuela gives him a look that says and whose fault is that?. “We really don’t have to talk about this.”

When that suggestion is met with a steely stare, Eddie falters then breaks, “His name is Buck? It’s Buck. From work. You’ve met Buck.”

Now his grandmother smiles, her eyes laughing at him. “Yes, I know who Buck is. I’ve only heard Chris rave about him and met him every other month for the past two years, Edmundo.”

Eddie brings a hand to rub at his eyes, now smiling too.

“Why haven’t you told him then?” And before Eddie can answer, she adds, “Is that our doing too? That you’re afraid?”

“No, no, that’s not because of any of this,” Eddie answers, which is only half a lie. “We’re very close friends, abuela. You know how close, you just said it yourself. He’s so involved with Chris and our lives. I’m worried about what will happen if I tell him and it doesn’t work out between us. It’s why I haven’t told him yet.”

“You think he feels the same?”

“I think he does. I’m pretty sure of it,” Eddie confides, even though he has never said any of this aloud before, he has thought about it for months on end, “I’m not ashamed of how I feel, but I thought leaving it alone would be best. To protect what we already have.”

“Making that decision for him is cruel, and you are not a cruel man, Edmundo.” Abuela chastises, “You said you’re close? Then you should respect him enough to give him the choice.”

Eddie nods, eyes watering again. This conversation is so far out of the realm of what he expected that he feels the need to lie down, or cry, or both.

“I will,” Eddie promises, “I’ve been planning on it for a while. I just.. I needed to do this first.”

Oh, my heart, his grandmother murmurs as she cups his face again with gentle hands and draws him into a hug. Against her shoulder, Eddie lets out a breath of pure relief.

------

Making that decision for him is cruel, and you are not a cruel man.

The words ring in Eddie’s ears for days after coming out to his abuela. He catches himself several times in the process of taking them out and looking at them. He never thought of his waiting as cruel to anyone but himself. His grandmother’s words sit heavy in his chest, making him vow to speak to Buck as soon as possible.

Between their busy shifts and both of them having various family obligations, the chance to speak to Buck alone doesn’t present itself until nearly a week after Eddie’s conversation with his grandmother.

They’re at Eddie’s house for the evening, having ended work a few hours ago. Chris fell asleep between them after dinner, about half an hour ago, and so Eddie carries him to his bedroom, kisses his forehead, and silently asks Chris to wish him luck as he heads back to the living room.

On the couch, Buck looks up at Eddie’s arrival and smiles.

“You’re not kicking me out now that Chris is sleeping, are you?” Buck jokes, “Because I was really hoping for a beer.”

Buck gestures towards the table, where two beers sit waiting for them. It strikes Eddie then, just how comfortable Buck is in Eddie’s space, and how much Eddie likes it that way. He smiles and moves to sit next to Buck.

Eddie’s mind is swirling with ways to start the conversation he wants to have, when Buck beats him to it.

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you?” Buck asks, his fingers toying with the neck of his bottle. “You’ve been off all week. Did something happen?”

Eddie looks at Buck for a couple of heartbeats. There’s no denying how beautiful he is, or how attractive Eddie finds him, but what catches his attention now is the ever present kindness in Buck’s eyes. Eddie has always envied Buck his openness and vulnerability. It was a kind of bravery that Eddie is only now starting to learn. Where Eddie is thoughtful and private with his emotions, Buck wears each one of his for the entire world to see. Eddie can’t help the bang of longing spreading through his chest, even as he sets out for his second scary conversation of the week.

“Yeah, something pretty important happened,” Eddie starts, placing the bottle back on the table and turning to look at Buck, who mirrors Eddie’s movement. “I told my abuela that there’s someone I have feelings for, and that this someone is a man.”

Buck blinks at Eddie in rapid succession, seemingly processing the information. His mouth hangs open for a moment before he frowns. “Shit, Eddie, why didn’t you say anything? That’s huge. How did it go? Are you okay?”

“I just came out to you,” Eddie states, because he needs to make sure that that part registered.

“Yeah, no, I noticed, but you also came out to your grandmother which sounds scarier,” Buck shoots back, his eyes filled with pure concern. Eddie badly wants to reach out and rub at the crease between his brows.

“Definitely scarier,” Eddie agrees and then grins, “But it went surprisingly well. Way better than expected. We even talked a bit about the guy.”

Buck’s expression clears into a bright smile, looking for all the world like sunshine in human form. His eyes are shimmering and he wipes at them with a laugh.

“Eddie, that’s great,” Buck punches his shoulder lightly, as if they’re still kids in highschool, and Eddie grins at the gesture, “That’s amazing, man. I’m really happy for you!”

“Thanks, Buck.” Eddie feels light as he says it, the combination of Buck’s blinding smile and him coming out to his best friend feeling heady and intoxicating.

“And you’re alright?” Buck asks again, his hand nudging at Eddie’s knee then retreating. Eddie fights the urge to take Buck’s hand and place it back there, where his warmth seeped into Eddie’s skin.

“I’m all good. Just needed some time to process all of it. But I’m good now.” Eddie nods, “Feels like one of the hardest parts is over. My parents will be a different story, but I’m leaving that for later.”

“Yeah, I get that. Thank you for trusting me with this. Seriously.” Buck says gently, his tone gone soft. He’s obviously sincere with his words, but something flashes in his eyes akin to hurt. It catches Eddie by surprise as he tries to pinpoint what caused the expression.

Buck chews on his lip for several seconds, painfully obvious in his distress, and then replaces the expression with a smile that is a mere flicker of the one he wore before.

“So, do I get to meet this mystery man of yours?” Buck jokes, “Get him the best friend stamp of approval?”

And, oh. Right. Eddie came out to Buck, but he hasn’t told him how he feels about him yet. That Buck is the man in question. That Eddie’s heart has been his now for an embarrassingly long time. Long enough for the idea of Eddie loving anyone other than Buck to be laughable. Eddie’s heart aches with love for him so much, he feels his breath catching with it.

“Well, you’ll need to approve of it for sure,” Eddie says thoughtfully, “Just not in the way you’re thinking.”

Buck’s expression turns puzzled, but he still looks hurt, and Eddie could say more, he probably should say more, but instead he spares them both a long winded explanation and reaches for Buck instead. One of his hands rests against the back of Buck’s head, fingers brushing against his hair, while the other rests against Buck’s cheek. Eddie sees the exact moment realization dawns across Buck’s face, and in any other situation, he would laugh or tease Buck about it. Right now, his focus is solely on Buck’s parted lips.

Eddie inches closer util their foreheads are nearly touching, but doesn’t close the space between them yet, needing a confirmation first.

“Buck, can I kiss you?” Eddie asks, voice far steadier than he feels. Against his hands, Buck’s skin feels so warm and inviting. Buck’s blue eyes are fixed on Eddie’s and so Eddie sees the slow blink he does, accompanied by a genuine smile. The sun breaking through clouds.

“Yes,” Buck whispers, so close that his breath brushes against Eddie’s lips. “Yeah. Kiss me.”

And that is all the prompting Eddie needs before he leans in and finally -god, finally!- brushes his mouth against Buck’s.The first touch of their lips is chaste and innocent, a hello and oh there you are! of sorts, but then Eddie captures Buck’s lower lip and then they’re kissing for real. Eddie thinks distantly that he would never in all his life tire of this or take it for granted. His lips against Buck’s, his hand in Buck’s hair and stroking his cheek, being the one to hear the little noises Buck makes when the kiss deepens. Eddie takes all of it and holds it deep within his chest, letting it warm him from the inside out and settle him deeper into this newly found sense of comfort.

They pull back to catch their breath, and Eddie takes that for the opportunity of kissing the side of Buck’s mouth, then his cheek, and his mouth again where Buck is smiling again.

“So, I’ll take it you approve?” Eddie teases, startling a laugh out of Buck and earning himself another light bunch to the shoulder.

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Buck’s voice is too fond to hold any heat, and he can’t seem to stop smiling. Eddie is suffering the same problem. “I don’t know how people can’t see it, but you’re such a jerk. You really had me worried there for a bit,” Buck tries to laugh it off, but the words are too honest for it to work. “Thought I’d lost you to some nameless guy coming in and sweeping you off your feet.”

“Nothing to worry about, bud,” Eddie’s heart aches again, this time for a different reason. If he needs to then Eddie will spend the rest of his life convincing Evan Buckley that he deserves to be loved, and that Eddie would never walk away from him. “No one else in here,” Eddie taps at his chest, “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

And that seems to be the exact right thing to say because Buck’s eyes shimmer even as he rolls them at Eddie with a put upon groan. “Okay, fine. Works for me, I guess.”

Eddie laughs at that, relishing the answering grin it draws out of Buck. They’re about to start kissing again, lips a breath apart, when Buck jumps back with an expression of pure shock, his face beautifully flushed.

“Shit. Wait, wait,” Buck says with comically wide eyes, “You told your grandmother about me?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs until his sides hurt.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #my stuff #umm so here's a fic no one asked for #benjisvictor #rafasilvas

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landflier · 4 years

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one day i wanna be able to say I’m Chilean and instead of ppl being weirded out and clueless, like wHat’S thAt and when i tell them making fun of Chile and pronouncing it 5 different wrong ways for laffs, that ppl would actually show interest in my culture or at least respect it

or just saying “u could’ve just said Mexican” or “so you’re Mexican” like ppl have actually done bcuz apparently it’s too much to expect they can distinguish different Latin American countries from each other and clearly they’re all the same

and bcuz of this i often just say im Irish when ppl ask about my heritage but then they say “what, really? no way, you don’t look Irish, i would never have guessed” even tho my name is literally ERIN but they tell me i look “exotic” or “foreign” whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean, bcuz u know Irish ppl and other European groups who live in America are totally not immigrants in the same way let’s ignore indigenous people and the fact this land is stolen, let’s whitewash our worldviews

and white ppl try to tell me what my identity is and this one white girl said well u shouldn’t say you’re Latina cuz you’re white as if i am not equally Irish and Chilean, and also Latina does not mean non-white

also i didn’t ask u ❤️ smartass always telling ppl that she’s so “woke” as if she isn’t privileged herself and ignoring it because she thinks she’s above others but anyways, is there a white version of mansplaining like crackersplaining cuz she needs that

due to relative whiteness, i benefit from white privilege in society as a whole which is fucked up and i acknowledge that,

while at the same time half my family looks at me differently from my sisters for looking more like my mom, looking “more Latina”

i listened to my white classmates make fun of our teacher for her accent all year since she’s a native Spanish speaker and got so upset i literally started to cry in class at one point over how mean they were and also thinking about how people probably mock my abuela the same way since her accent is similar, but when i tried to tell them to be quiet they all looked at me like an alien with such anger in their expressions

and my white and non-Latinx “friends” have frequently laughed at me and mocked me and told me to stop whenever i say that teacher’s name cuz i actually pronounce it with Spanish pronunciation just naturally. they tell me it’s weird and to stop but i refuse to, but it makes me doubt myself when i shouldn’t have to. i am allowed to consult my language in everyday conversation especially when connecting with other Latinx people, few of which i get the chance to meet where i live

and when i discuss the Chilean food i eat they call it weird too, so i don’t mention things like that anymore and i don’t dare try to speak Spanglish with them

basically im sick of white ppl 💖 cállete tus pinches bocas pendejos you tire me out.

including u lgbt+ white ppl who think your lgbt+ identity cancels out your white privilege, so many ppl like that have hurt me.

white latinx ppl such as myself r certainly not exempt from this perceived lack of privilege, that’s definitely an issue too

white ppl need to do better, myself included, to consider the way our sheltered perspectives can harm POC in ways we might not even notice until it’s too late, especially BIPOC

stop making fun of food, dress, way of speaking, names, features (brown eyes, body hair, other certain traits), traditions, and other things that don’t fit your view of the world. if it is “odd” to you then shut up about it and respect that not every culture is the same,

if those things are “weird” to you in the first place then you seriously need to consider why you feel that way and how your bias is influencing your perspective

#rant #personal #vent #tw racism #microaggresions #latinx #chilean #white privilege

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elenajohansenreads · 4 years

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Books I Read in 2020

#37 - Dreams Underfoot, by Charles de Lint

Mount TBR: 37/150

Around the Year in 52 Books: A book that is between 400-600 pages

The Reading Frenzy: Close your eyes and pick a book from your shelf

Rating: 2/5 stars

A long time ago, at least fifteen years but possibly longer, I'm pretty sure I got a few de Lint novels out from the library and read them. I don't remember which ones precisely, aside from The Onion Girl because I do recall that cover, and I thought, I remember thinking these were interesting, so why not give him a try again but start at the beginning?

So I didn't know, when I picked this up from ThriftBooks, that it was a short story collection, and that's my fault, because I was expecting a novel. But even taking my incorrect expectations into account, I was unimpressed by this.

Together the stories do paint a vivid picture of a place, a city, that could exist nearly anywhere in North America, at least anywhere many cultures have come together with their many traditions of folklore, mythical creatures, and magic. The world-building is the strongest thing about this; if I felt like combing through the book again for each specific detail, I could probably draw you a half-decent map of Newford. (But this is the age of the Internet, and I bet someone else, a more invested fan than me, already has.)

But though this city could exist anywhere it could definitely not exist anywhen. The combined vagueness and immediacy of place is not matched by an equal timelessness, because these stories are so incredibly, painfully dated in their language and details. How many times was a large cassette player called a "ghetto blaster?" How many musical references are there to existing artists like 10,000 Maniacs and The Pogues? How many characters have Mohawks? (Not that that isn't still a thing, it is, but the hairstyle has an incredibly strong link with the punk culture of the '80s.) All of the individual stories appeared in magazines throughout the late '80s and early '90s, and it shows in the level of technology in the setting, but also in the language. Compact discs aren't even abbreviated as "CDs" yet! So there's where the specificity of an urban fantasy setting rubs the wrong way against the threads of magical realism--I wanted these stories to be more timeless than they could possibly be.

My second major complaint is the weakness of characterization. Everyone gets a physical introduction of a paragraph or two that covers most of the same details--it's very, very important that we know everyone's height and hairstyle--but the stories do little to flesh out personalities, being so focused on the magical aspects of the story. Even the characters that come up the most often are still fairly thin, built from tropes that don't gain complexity through their actions--Jilly is a starving-artist type, Geordie a starving-musician type, and so on. I especially don't like how all of the women are basically the same woman with slightly different looks and slightly different backstories. Jilly didn't bother me in that regard so much because she's the first one we meet, but the Hispanic waitress and the Romani musican lady honestly didn't feel all that different from her, except the waitress used the most awkward forced Spanish in her narrative even while she whined that she had hung out with "Anglos" so long that she was losing her Spanish and could barely speak to her abuela anymore. Listen, I'm not bilingual, but I've read a lot of advice on how to write bilingual characters, based on how actual bilingual people switch between their languages, and this ain't it. This is definitely a White Male Author writing both poor examples of women and worse examples of women of color.

And yeah, I know, this was more than thirty years ago in some cases and attitudes have progressed. Maybe his more recent works are better in this regard, but my interest was in starting the series from the beginning to get the full picture of his world. The world still seems interesting, but it's populated by characters I can't connect with. I won't be coming back again.

#booklr #adult booklr #book review #dreams underfoot #charles de lint #book photography #my photos #my reading challenges #mount tbr 2020 #around the year 2020 #the reading frenzy

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sarakuper · 4 years

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San Rafael; Work Away

Stop #3, December 21-January 7

Our time in San Rafael was very relaxing, thrilling, and interesting. Some days we spent doing little to nothing, which was nice for a few days but too boring for me at some points. Other days Sean and I did some awesome activities pushing us both way out of our comfort zones. Lastly, we experienced authentic Colombian culture first hand. Being there for holidays and festivals meant we were there for some of the most quiet and exciting days of the year.

When we arrived on Saturday we had no idea what to expect. This stop being our first WorkAway, we wondered…what work would we be doing? How many hours were expected of us? Are any meals included? For that first day we hung out and enjoyed the beautiful location at the hostel, which is located on a steep hill, completely open and overlooking the city. It’s totally lush and absolutely beautiful. The view alone is a reason to spend all day in the hostel relaxing.

There are 3 people who own the hostel, all Colombian, and all in their 20’s. Lili was there when we arrived, Manuel arrived the next day (Sunday), and Laura arrived after spending Christmas with her family in Medellin. Immediately after arriving Sean and I fell in love with their cat Canela, which is “cinnamon” in Spanish. We thought she was a kitten because she isn’t full sized, but it turns out she is an old lady! She lived on the property with the previous owner, who was thought to be not very kind to her. When Lili, Laura, and Manuel bought the place about a year ago, Canela was pregnant with a dead litter. They paid to have them surgically removed, and since then Canela has been their beloved pet. She is so cuddly and sweet. She jumps on your lap for pets or a nap, and she answer to your calls. She’s the kind of cat that acts like a dog. We immediately fell in love with her. It’s not like we are trying to fill a void or anything... :)

When Manuel arrived on Sunday we discussed the work we would be doing; we would redo the kitchen (and it really needed it) and lunch would be provided. We started making plans for this work Monday morning. I was going to repaint the kitchen and organize it differently while Sean would build some cabinet doors and shelves. Our work load was different each day. Sometimes we felt good with the work we were doing that we spent hours doing it. Other days we did little to nothing. Either way, Leidy and Karen came every morning to clean the hostel, and during our first week Leidy cooked us lunch too. And wow did she cook us the most delicious healthy food!!!

Leidy and Karen live in the same building as the hostel/language school in a separate apartment. Leidy is probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s, and Karen is her 10 year old daughter. Neither of them spoke a word of english, but they quickly became a big part of our trip in San Rafael. Since Karen was off from school she came to help her mom cook and clean every morning. One morning I was doing some henna on hands and legs when Karen told me “linda!” which means “cute” or “pretty” in Spanish. I asked her if she wanted one, and when she said yes I told her to ask her mom first. Next thing you know, I was giving henna tattoos to both Karen and Leidy; mandala type flowers on their legs and their names written on their wrists. I wish I took a photo of this, but I didn’t :(. I did however take a picture of my henna, and finally took a picture with Leidy and Karen on our last day.

From then on, Karen and I would hang out together almost every morning. She would help me study Spanish while also helping her mom work. I would pull up a new vocabulary word I wanted to learn from an app on my phone, and she and I would practice using that word in a sentence. She would then correct my awful grammar before moving on to the next new word. Some evenings after that I saw Karen and Leidy hanging out outside or walking into town. We always talked and all made efforts to communicate as much as possible. My broken Spanish was enough to connect with both of them, but what it really highlighted was that you don’t need to speak the same language to express love and kindness.

Over Christmas Eve we joined Lili’s boyfriend, Brandon, at his house where he was hosting a BBQ. And that’s exactly how Colombians celebrate Christmas; they BBQ on the street with beers and loud music. And they were kind enough to grill lots of veggies for me :)

During our time in San Rafael we experienced some epic thunder storms. It rained almost every night, and being in a hostel where the common area is wide open made the storms so fun. Normally when we went into town we did so in the evening and nights, only because the days were so hot, and so walking up and down the hills to the city center was a bit warm… but, every time we went out at night it was like a guessing game if we would get poured on. Every night was cloudy, so there was really no telling. It made it a little more fun :) I love rain in warm weather!

Another day, after working and panting in the morning, we went to the nearest watering hole for a quick swim. Lili’s mom was in town, so we went together plus Bendzhi, a Chinese girl staying at our hostel long term. The watering hole was amazing for people watching. So many locals go there to cool off and swim. Kids ands dogs run around everywhere while vendors sell snacks from fresh fruit to churros. I wish I had photos, but it was better to bring little to nothing since we were ditching our stuff to go swimming.

Steve was another guy at our hostel, probably in his mid 40’s, and from Canada. We spent a good amount of time with him, especially after hiking to a waterfall with him, and Manuel. The hike was pretty short but beautiful. We walked right by horses and cows/bulls before approaching the waterfall.

Just before NYE Lili left to spend time in San Carlos, another town about an hour west, for the next month or so. Laura and Manuel both went to meet Manuel’s family, and so Sean and I had the hostel to ourselves. We went out in town and hung out at a bar until midnight, when everyone got up to hug and kiss each other. Soon after Sean and I went home to hit the hay. Neither of us were feeling great (my throat was sore and he had an allergy attack), plus we don’t particularly care much for this holiday.

Something I loved about staying at this hostel was that on most days a group of small monkeys would come looking for food. Of course we bought bananas in preparation of this, and fed them quite often. They are so small and so cute!!! They would call at us until we fed them their beloved bananas.

The most exciting thing we did during our time in San Rafael was a canyoneering trip with Manuel, his sister Julianna, and her husband Freddy. We hiked to a spot along a river, got into wet suits and harnesses, and began our decent in the river. We slid down the rocks, jumped off cliffs, and repelled our way through the river. Sean’s fear of heights kicked in during the last part of the activity. But, there we were.. and there was no turning back! This trip was short, but seriously one of the coolest things we’ve done. We were so high on life from the awesome adventure it was!

Another day Manuel and Laura invited us on a fishing trip again with his sister and brother in law. We fished along a river, and although Sean and I both didn’t catch anything we still enjoyed the experience very much. Colorful birds where flying all around us, calling out to each other, and it was really beautiful to watch. Eventually we made our way to a waterfall where we “parked” our boats to go explore. We climbed to the top of the waterfall where we found a beautiful swimming hole to enjoy all to ourselves. We explored deeper, climbing up the next small waterfall. It was absolutely stunning, and easily the highlight of the fishing trip. We swam and jumped off the rocks (don’t worry- Manuel, a certified guide, checked to see that they were safe first) while enjoying all the beauty around us.

The next day we had the opportunity to visit a Panela farm, watching its production from start to finish. Panela is the natural sweetener widely used here in Colombia, and I think a lot of Latin America. It comes in thick blocks that are chipped at and use as sweeter for many of their drinks, specifically chocolate (the drink) and natural juice. We started by crushing the sugarcane using a machine, followed by a long cleaning process to purify the juice before it crystalizes into a sugar. The colombian family that owns the farm has been making Panela all their lives. The whole operation is run between 4 siblings; 3 brothers and 1 sister, all in their 70’s. The abuela welcomed us into her beautiful home and made us breakfast, and then lunch once it got late enough in the afternoon. I am so grateful to have been welcomed to this family’s farm and home with arms open wide. The love they put into this work, and the history behind it all makes it so special. For so many reasons this day was one I will never forget.

One of the last events that went on while we were gone (and yes, wow, a lot has really happened) was Festivo del Rio, festival of the river. We are not sure how the name is related to the celebrations, but what we do know is that this small town fills up with tons of Colombians from all over the country to come celebrate this festival at San Rafael. Restaurants were packed, the hostel we stayed at was fully booked, and the streets were crowded with happy people. On Friday night we watched part of the parade, where structures of mythical creatures ran the streets breathing fire and pure fun.

At the beginning of this post I wrote that times during this leg of the trip I was bored, yet I didn’t get to writing any of this post until the bus ride out of town. I didn’t realize how many special experiences we had until it was time to write about it. But thats exactly why I do this :)

And now that I am writing this while on the bus leaving San Rafael, it feels bitter sweet to leave. This town is so authentically Colombian. The only other English speakers we met were 3 others from our hostel, one Canadian, one American, and one Chinese who spoke English fluently. Saying goodbye was so sweet, as Laura told me that seeing my face is like getting a dose a diabetes. There’s a bit of a language barrier there.. but what she was saying is that I’m so sweet and she feels that every time she sees my face 😂. As for Leidy and Karen... well Leidy starting to cry. I told her “I miss you” in Spanish because I have no idea how to speak in future tense to say “I will miss you”. Karen, her 10 year old daughter who was my best friend on this leg of the trip, gave me hugs goodbye. I will miss practicing Spanish with her very much. She actually knows how to explain things to me better than the adults!

Anyway, I am so looking forward to Josh’s arrival! This is just the start of what I think will be a very fun month with friends (Sam and Victoria next week) and then my mom and cousin Maria in Cartagena!

Thanks for reading fam, love you all.

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

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EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 26: Find Me A Find

Chapters 1-25

Occasional strains of music and tantalizing aromas wafted up to Laura’s apartment, spurring her to hurry. Amazingly, on a Saturday when she wasn’t working, the early fall weather was perfect and there was a Latino street fair happening just a block from her apartment. She tossed a faded jean jacket over a sleeveless dress of soft white cotton, tied on tattered Keds that had been red at one time, and headed out. Her hair was still damp from the shower, since she’d gone to an early class at the gym. Feeling virtuous for getting up early and doing what she needed to do, she was ready for a sunny day of doing nothing but enjoying the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of the street fair.

She took the stairs to the street and followed the music. The city had blocked off ten blocks of the street, and vendors and fairgoers had pushed the boundaries into some of the side streets. There was a grassy park at one end with a bandstand on each side, the lawn full of blankets with couples and families relaxing and enjoying the music and sunshine. Even in the happy crowd, Laura was vigilant, and felt a little naked not being armed. She thought that was probably permanent now. She did have her shield. You never knew.

As she stood admiring handmade copper jewelry in a booth and chatting casually with the wizened abuela whose daughter was the artist, Laura heard her name called. She turned toward the voice to see Lucia Barba rushing toward her, arms out, an elated smile on her face. Señora Barba grabbed her into a bear hug, excitedly greeting her.

“Laura, it’s so good to see you! I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did for Rafael, and I’m so grateful. I knew something was wrong. Thank you for keeping my son safe.”

Laura laughingly hugged her back, thinking again how much she liked Señora Barba.

“El gusto es mio, Señora. Gracias por dejarme ayudar.”[1]

“And I was right, wasn’t I? He complained, but he let you help him.”

Laura smiled, looking past Lucia to see Rafael standing, trying to look annoyed behind his Ray-Bans.

“You called it,” she said to Lucia. “And it was a brilliant move to call Ramón. He was the one who pulled it all together. Which means it was you who really saved Rafael. All I did was hide him.”

“And pull a gun before that matón[2] could pull his. I wish I could have seen that.”

“Yeah, well. That’s what friends are for.”

Laura smiled at Rafael, who grinned back uncomfortably. He preferred not to be the topic of his mami’s conversation. You never knew what she might say.

“Well, we’re both grateful, aren’t we, Rafi?”

“We are,” he answered. “Thank you again, Detective.”

Laura tilted her head.

“Laura.”

Her smile brightened. She got a little thrill hearing him say her name, and was somewhat dazzled by how good he looked there in the sunshine, relaxed and casual in jeans and a white polo shirt. He hadn’t shaved. She wondered whether he knew how good that slight scruff looked on him.

“How are your bruises?” She asked.

“All but gone. Can we talk about something else?”

“What are you doing in Manhattan, Lucia?”

“If I want to see Rafi more than once a year, I have to come to him. Anyway, we love this fair. We come every year. You should let me introduce you to my friend Inez. Her daughter in law has a booth just down there and she makes the most beautiful Colombian polleras coloras.[3] I don’t know where you’d wear them, but they’re gorgeous. It’s just down here…”

Laura looked back at Rafael for help as she was enveloped in Lucia’s arm, and voice, and persona. Much more comfortable now that he had recovered from the initial shock of seeing Laura here, and that he was no longer the subject of conversation, he was perfectly happy to simply follow, smiling broadly, as Laura experienced the force of nature that was his mother. And though he would never say it, he was ecstatic that his mother appeared to have conscripted Laura to experience the fair with them. This way, he could enjoy her company, without having to be the one to risk proposing that himself.

A few booths further down the street, they reached one that was a riot of brilliant colors and flowing fabrics, trimmed ruffled skirts moving gracefully in the breeze. Lucia saw her friend, a short, squat Colombian woman with a brilliant smile, and introduced Laura to her. Soon several women were crowding in to greet Lucia. Aside from a few that had no translation, every word was in Spanish. Laura had all she could do to follow the discussion. Between the different accents and overlapping conversations, she was too busy listening to offer much comment herself.

After several minutes of animated conversation, she felt Rafael move up just behind her, close enough to quietly murmur into her ear in English, “Let me know if you need rescuing.”

She leaned into him as much as she dared. “I may take you up on that.”

“It’s my turn.”

Something about the tone of his voice bothered her. She turned a bit to look up into his face. “You OK?”

When he put an arm lightly around her shoulder, she felt it throughout her entire body. A shadow over his face told her he was not entirely over the experience he’d just come through. “Just glad it’s over.”

“If you need to talk…”

He squeezed her shoulder, turning her back toward the group of women, all of whom were watching their quiet exchange with great interest. “Later.”

The older women began to cluck and fuss over “Rafi”, the way they spoke to (and about) him making clear they had known him from childhood. It was also obvious they were intensely curious about Laura’s relationship to him.

Lucia Barba was nothing if not savvy. As the three wandered down the crowded street, they eventually came to a very busy booth selling empanadas, owned by a family Rafael had known his entire life. Lucia quite calculatedly got herself “talked into” helping the family tend the booth, leaving Rafael and Laura on their own.

“Vaya[4], Rafael… Show Laura a good time. Enjoy the day together,” she called cheerfully, tying on an apron.

Laura strongly suspected she was matchmaking, and Rafael knew for sure that’s what she was doing. He pretended to be annoyed with her, but Lucia wasn’t fooled for a second.

“Mami, usted es un entrometido,”[5] he whispered to her as he kissed her cheek before leaving the booth.

She pulled him into a hug to cover her reply. “Solo te estoy cuidando, mijo. Ella es linda. Ella te gusta. Y ella está loca por ti.”[6]

“Puedo encontrar mis propias citas.”[7]

“Pero no lo harás. Entonces lo haré por ti.”[8]

Rafael and Laura stepped out into the sunshine, joining the busy throng of fairgoers. This was the part Laura was absolutely useless at. She wanted nothing more than to spend time – the whole day, if she could – just walking around with Rafael enjoying the street fair. But precisely because it was so important to her, she had no idea how to let him know that without embarrassing herself. She stood, completely unable to think of a thing to say.

Rafael was too consumed with his own thoughts to notice. He was thinking that, since his mother had gone to so much trouble to arrange this golden opportunity, he wasn’t about to waste it. At the same time, his internal alarms were in overdrive. His mami had done this to him more than once, but never with a woman he was in any danger of truly caring about. He felt suspended, perfectly balanced between wanting to make an excuse to leave the fair and wanting to take Laura’s hand and show her everything.

They might have stood there forever, never making a move, had a stray breeze not blown a streamer from a neighboring booth. Its motion caught Rafael’s eye. He turned to see Laura, a lock of her hair caught by the same breeze, pushing it behind her ear. She looked at him as he looked at her, and gave him a smile that made his decision for him.

“Come with me,” he said, putting a hand on her lower back to steer her into the flow of the crowd. “I want to show you something.”

Laura shivered, feeling him touch her in such a proprietary way. Rafael wondered how she would react if he kept his hand on her, or even put an arm around her. He talked himself out of doing either.

As they made their way through the crowd, Rafael asked as casually as he could, “How was your date with Ramón?”

“Short.”

“Oh? What did he do?” For a man who had no intention of getting involved, Rafael was surprisingly relieved to hear that Laura’s date with his cousin hadn’t gone well.

“He was fine. There’s just… nothing there.” Her nonchalance seemed genuine to him. “We ran out of things to say by the end of the first drink.”

“Too bad.”

She shrugged. “It’s O.K. So what are you going to show me?”

“Something I know Ramón didn’t tell you.”

They walked about a block, not hurrying, just seeing the sights, watching the crowd and trying to get used to the lovely surprise gift Lucia had given them: an entire day to enjoy together. They pointed out interesting booths or people to one another and tried to make each other laugh. Spanish being by far the most prevalent language around them, and as much Rafael’s first language as English, they naturally fell into speaking Spanish. Although she clearly tried, Laura would always have a fairly heavy American accent. She had trouble with verb tenses, like everyone who learns a new language as an adult, and once or twice he had to stifle a laugh at the way she expressed something. Not that the words were wrong, exactly, just in an odd order and sometimes descriptive of something that she didn’t know the Spanish word for. He found it endearing.

Often, they would be jostled or separated by the milling crowd, and Rafael wondered whether he should, or could, take Laura’s hand. He wanted to – very much wanted to – but wasn’t sure he could pass it off as mere logistical necessity rather than the affectionate gesture it would actually have been. Wrestling with the decision, he hadn’t done it by the time they reached his destination.

A stage had been set up at the back of a vacant lot at the end of the block they’d walked, with a fair number of people standing before it watching a group of dancers. The men wore close-fitting black pants and chest-baring shirts in white, and the women wore brightly colored, very sexy dresses with short, ruffled skirts that bared their legs with every move and twirl.

“I’m related to about half the people on that stage,” Rafael told her.

“Seriously? What’s that dance?”

“It’s the cha-cha-chá in Cuba, but here we just call it the cha-cha. And the third guy from the left is Ramón. With the girl in the red dress?”

Laura squinted and watched Ramón for a moment. “Wow! He’s amazing! Why would he not tell me he’s such a great dancer? That seems like a pretty good pick-up line.”

“He’s private about it. He’s proud of it, but a lot of the guys on his squad don’t even know he dances.”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Well, that’s another reason he doesn’t talk about it much. That’s his sister, Selena.”

Rafael and Laura watched the dancers for about half an hour, as they performed a number of different dances, all beautiful and fascinating to Laura. He pointed out which of the dancers were relatives and it was, in fact, about half of them.

“So, do you dance?”

“Oh, hell no. My father wouldn’t hear of it. My ex-wife did, though.”

Laura was glad they were focusing on the stage when he said that. It had never occurred to her that Rafael might have been married, although it probably should have. The distraction of the dancers gave her the chance to react without him watching her while she did.

“Oh, you were married?” She tried to sound merely casually interested.

“Single worst experience of my life, and that includes two root canals and the New York State bar exam.”

“Ouch. How long were you married?”

“Interesting question. I was married for seven years. She was married for a somewhat shorter period of time.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Have you had about enough of the dancing Barbas? I’m getting hungry.”

“I could watch this all day. But food sounds good.”

As they made their way through the crowd that had piled up behind them watching the dancers, he reached back and took her hand. He didn’t intertwine his fingers with hers, but held her hand in his as they snaked through the knots of onlookers. His hand felt strong and warm, and Laura allowed herself an inner shriek of glee. So what if she had a dorky grin on her face? He was leading her through the crowd; he couldn’t see it.

When they reached the street again, he let her hand fall. She was disappointed, but tried to play it cool.

“And you?” He continued the conversation when they were again side by side, walking down the street, shoulders barely touching. “Ever been married?”

“I was engaged once. God and José Cuervo had other ideas. We’re still good friends, but… some things you just don’t come back from.”

“I’m sorry. Would I be right in guessing that the groom-that-wasn’t is Peter Stone?”

“Got it in one.”

“I have another very important question that will determine the future of our friendship. What is your political position on churros?”

“Pro. I am firmly pro-churro.”

“Good, I don’t have to shun you. C’mon, let me buy you some.”

They found a small patch of grass in front of one of the stages in the park, where a group of musicians were doing their best to play salsa music. A number of people danced in front of the stage, apparently determined to enjoy the music, however bad.

Sitting down next to Rafael and accepting the churro he offered her, Laura gestured toward the stage. “Should I try to guess how many of those guys you’re related to?”

“You think all Hispanics are related? That’s racist.”

“Mmm-hmm. How many?”

Rafael looked carefully at the stage. “Two.”

Laura whooped with laughter. It had been a lucky guess. She had heard Rafael’s mother and her friends discussing one woman’s daughters who played percussion instruments in a salsa band.

For a long time after that, they sat companionably and people-watched, talking casually about Rafael’s huge extended family, people they both knew, and the differences between New York and Chicago. At some point, Rafael laid down on his side, his head on his hand, looking up at Laura. He looked suave yet casual, all sunglasses and stubble and thick, dark hair blowing slightly in the breeze. She wanted nothing more than to stretch out beside him and pull him on top of her. She realized just a moment too late that she was staring.

“Something wrong, Detective?”

“N- no, I’m just… wondering whether you want to talk about what happened with Judge Renseau. I don’t want to ruin a nice day, but I do want to, you know, be supportive.” Whew. Nice save.

To her surprise, he told her candidly how frightened he’d been, how helpless he’d felt, and how comforted he’d been by her visit to his office.

“I know I didn’t say it, but I really appreciated that. I felt pretty alone.”

“You weren’t.”

“I know that now.” His mischievous grin told her he was about to make fun of her. “I wish you could have seen your face. You expected me to read you the riot act and throw you out of my office.”

“Pretty much. But I had no choice. I get the feeling nobody says no to your mother.”

“You would be right about that.” He looked down at the grass, pulling a blade and staring at it in apparent fascination. “It must’ve taken some guts for you to come to my office.”

She smirked at him. “I’m not afraid of you. Unfortunately for you.”

“Desafortunadamente.”[9]

“What?”

“It’s a tongue twister, I know. Try it again. Desafortunadamente.” He wondered how she would take him correcting her Spanish, half expecting her to take offense. That would have been uncomfortable, but what she did instead made him even more uncomfortable.

She became very serious as she asked him to say it again, looking at his mouth and trying very hard to imitate his pronunciation. It was so cute and inexplicably hot he found himself repositioning his legs to hide his reaction. She had no ego about it. She understood that she would always speak Spanish with an American accent and probably always make mistakes. Despite that, or maybe because of that, she really wanted to improve. She was willing to be entirely instructed by him and repeat the syllables, and the word, as many times as she had to until he was satisfied. He imagined her looking like that, so intent and serious, eager to get it right and win his approval, when he asked her to do other things with her mouth.

“That’s it. You got it. Let’s walk.” He popped up from his position on the grass so fast she wondered if she’d done something wrong. Angling his body away from her, he held a hand out to her and helped her up from the ground.

As they walked the street, going back in the direction of their apartment building, their conversation seemed to stay on more serious topics. Not deeply philosophical, just subjects more personal than observations about people around them or the booths they passed. As Rafael was explaining the reasons he had become a Prosecutor, he turned toward her to say something, and found that she wasn’t there.

Turning back the way they had come, he saw her about 5 steps behind him, in the act of twisting a greasy young man’s arm behind his back.

“NYPD! On your knees, Sparky,” she told him in a commanding voice. He had no choice; with the angle at which she held his fingers, it was the only way to release the pressure. As he hit the ground, she used her free hand to pull her shield from an inside pocket of her jacket and show it to him.

“Look, man, I’ll give it back! Just take it, man!” He held up a wallet in a creamy, fine black leather. Rafael’s wallet.

Laura plucked it out of his hand and, seeing Rafael step up next to her, handed it to him. “So, Harvard? You’re the boss. What do you want to do?”

Rafael couldn’t have hidden his smile if he’d wanted to. He actually laughed. “It’s a party. Let him go.”

“You sure?” She asked, not releasing the pickpocket.

“Hey, listen to him, Lady, he’s the boss.”

“Shut up,” she bawled, shooting a disgusted look at the kid on his knees at her feet and, had she known it, sounding exactly like Fin.

“Let him go, Detective. I don’t want to spoil our day doing paperwork.”

Laura helped the kid to his feet, but didn’t release his arm immediately. She looked up at him as he towered over her. “Get out of here. And I mean all the way out. I see you again today and we are gonna be doing that paperwork, you got that? Do you realize you just pickpocketed a D.A?”

The kid lost it. His eyes went huge and he bolted to the side, between two booths and into a side street.

For what had to be the twentieth time that day, Rafael was enchanted. As they both laughed uncontrollably, he unconsciously put an arm around her shoulder and they started back down the street.

“How did that happen?”

“I saw him pick your pocket.”

“You saw… my wallet was in my back pocket. What, exactly, were you looking at?”

Laura blushed furiously, causing Rafael to laugh even harder and squeeze her to him. He couldn’t help it. The look on her face was so adorable he simply had to hug her as he shook with laughter.

“I wasn’t… I saw movement behind you.”

“You saw movement? Please. You better hope for a particularly impressionable jury.”

Holy shit, how am I even walking right now? If he hugs me again, or smiles like that, I’m just going to throw him to the ground and do him right here. And then I’ll be the one being arrested.

“You know, you could try being a little grateful. I did you a favor.”

“You did, and I am grateful. I’m not sure whether I’m happier that I still have my wallet or that you were checking out my ass.”

“I was so not checking – forget it. Next time, Sparky gets to keep your wallet.” All I have to do is look up, just put my face somewhere in the kissing zone… Laura was completely frustrated by her inability to make smooth passes at men she really liked. This was about the fifth time she’d felt like, if she just leaned a bit more toward him, or stepped a little closer… But the moment would pass without either of them making a move. She was sure she was the only one feeling those moments. She was wrong.

They found a small stage in a side street where a scruffy band of people played a Peruvian-flavored music heavy on charangos, bandurrias, and pan flutes, with several different hand-held drums and other percussion instruments. There was a core of players, but others appeared simply to be joining from time to time, just jamming. The music was great. Both Laura and Rafael wanted to stay and listen, so they found a spot on the grass to sit. Once Laura was settled, Rafael went in search of something to eat for dinner while they listened.

As he walked back to the street and tried to choose among all the delicious foods available, Rafael thought back over the day. He knew he was in trouble. He could not remember spending a more enjoyable day. He tried to think of a word to describe how he was feeling about Laura, even aside from his serious sexual attraction to her. He felt extremely… fond of her. He liked her immensely, looked forward to what she was going to say or do next, and just generally wanted to be around her. Fond. Yes, that was the word. Extremely fond.

He decided that, since they’d been sampling foods from assorted Latin American countries throughout the day, he wanted to bring her something Cuban. He chose a booth from which a mouthwatering aroma was permeating the air, bring back boxes of ropa vieja with black beans, yellow rice, and plantains, with big cups of lemonade. It wasn’t easy to eat sitting on the grass and, since both of them were wearing white, they laughed through the challenge of trying to spill as little as possible. The music was so good, they stayed listening and talking for a long time after they finished eating.

They were both sorry to see the light fading. Vendors were beginning to pack up their wares, and the crowd was thinning. When the band announced that they were playing their last song, Rafael and Laura looked regretfully at one another and gathered up the debris of their dinner.

Laura never thought about what she was doing until she had already reached out and taken Rafael’s hand as they walked. If she had, she would never have had the courage to do it. The action was simply an extension of her happiness at being with him, and her deep attraction to him. His heart gave a lurch as he felt her put her small hand in his and, this time, he entwined his fingers with hers. Neither gave any indication that they noticed anything unusual, although they were both thinking of nothing else.

“Rafael, this has been the best day. I really had fun. Thanks for everything,” she said as they approached their building. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, she was matchmaking.”

Laura laughed. She wondered if he would say anything else, and was vaguely disappointed when he didn’t. She’d given him an opening big enough to drive a truck through.

He wished she hadn’t. Her delicate but hard to miss hint was so inviting he could hardly keep from abandoning all his stupid rules and asking her to marry him. Like he had been the night he’d built her cabinet, he was actually looking forward to getting away from her. It was too hard to be around her, with her ratty Keds and her adorably bad accent and her musical laugh, and remember his promise to himself.

“I’m going to hate going to the office tomorrow, especially if it’s another beautiful day,” he offered, hoping like hell to get the conversation to safer territory.

“It’s Sunday. Do you have to go in?” The weather? Really? That’s what you want to talk about?

“Unfortunately, I do. I have no wifi, and I’ve got a lot to get done for Monday.”

“What’s wrong with your wifi?”

“Above my pay grade. All I know is it’s out and my guy can’t get here until Wednesday.”

He opened the door for her, and she stepped past him.

“My wifi works fine. Use mine.”

“Your wifi isn’t going to reach up to my apartment.”

“Then come to mine. I actually have a table now, so you’ll have a surface to work on. I’m on duty, so I’m afraid you’ll be on your own, but you’re welcome to work at my place. I’ll give you a key.”

They walked across the lobby toward the elevators. “Laura, this is New York. You can’t just give your keys to anyone and say, ‘hey, come hang out in my apartment while I’m not there’.”

“I just did.”

“I could be a serial killer.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then we’re good. Stop off with me. I’ll give you a key.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped in as he smiled and shook his head. This woman…

He followed her into her dark apartment and stood while she went into her kitchen, flipped on the light and took a key from a drawer. She stepped back around the counter and handed it to him.

“Use it, or don’t. But you really are welcome to, so you don’t have to go in to the office.”

“Thank you. I might do that.”

With that, they’d reached the moment that had been on both their minds for at least the last half hour. Rafael wanted to be as kind and natural as possible as he made his escape. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Laura’s feelings, especially after such a magical day. Laura’s thoughts were entirely different. I know I’m gonna jack this up. But as God is my witness, that man is not walking out of here unkissed.

“Listen, Laura… There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said, quiet in the half light from the kitchen. “You know, the night with your Ikea cabinet… That was fun. And I’m sure you got whiplash from the way I’ve treated you since then.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

“That’s good, because I don’t have any. But I do want to apologize. I treated you badly, and still when you heard I was in trouble, there you were, ready to do battle for me. So… I enjoyed that night we built that cabinet. I really did.”

“So did I.”

“And I’m sorry that I went right back to being a dick.”

“I didn’t say – “

“Detective, I’m apologizing. Doesn’t happen often. Try to keep up.”

They chuckled in their mutual discomfort.

“Apology accepted. And for the record? I do not think you’re a dick, and anytime a friend of mine is in trouble, I’m gonna be there. It’s kind of my thing.”

“So we’re friends then?”

“Try to keep up.”

With another of his sexy half-smiles, Rafael said, “It was a great day. I really enjoyed spending it with you. Thanks.”

Awkwardly, hesitantly, they fumbled their way into a hug that wasn’t what either of them wanted, but it was warm and affectionate, and it was enough.

[1] My pleasure. Thank you for letting me help.

[2] Thug, goon

[3] Traditional Colombian skirt that is long and made of a lot of fabric so it flows when the wearer dances

[4] Go

[5] Mami, you’re a busybody.

[6] I'm just looking out for you, my son. She's cute. You like her. And she's crazy about you.

[7] I can find my own dates.

[8] But you won’t. So I’ll do it for you.

[9] Unfortunately

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #peter stone #philip winchester

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aiwannadrawit · 6 years

Text

Friendly Vacation

Time: June 29th

Place: Josh’s home in Mexico

Between: Desmond & Josh

Plot: Desmond spends some time with Josh and his family for the summer.

Josh was excited about this trip. Not only because he had missed his family but because he had the chance to invite a friend over. He only hoped Desmond enjoyed the city as much as he did. When they were finally out of the customs, Josh made sure to guide the taller man around the halls, “It’s a huge airport and quite busy as you can see. Fridays are always crazy here in the city,” his voice sounding happy and excited to be back. “My cousin is waiting for us near door 7. Are you hungry?” he asked already knowing that his Abuela was probably waiting for them with a traditional dish to welcome them.

Desmond had been a bit antsy during the flight over. He wasn't afraid of flying or anything like that, he was just kind of anxious, leaving the country and meeting a whole bunch of new people. He stayed close to Josh as they went through the airport; he didn't want to get lost. "Uh...sure, I could eat something." He had been doing a better with his eating over the months. He needed to make sure he kept up the pace.

Josh turned to look at Desmond, offering a reassuring smile, “Great! I think my Abuela probably prepared something for us. Especially because she’s excited to meet one of my school friends as she calls them,” Josh explained with a soft chortle. “I must warn you, she doesn’t speak English, but I can help with the translations,” he promised, hoping this piece of information wouldn’t make Desmond more nervous.

Desmond smiled back at him and slipped his hands into his pockets. "Okay, cool...I'm excited to taste it." At the mention of a possible language, barrier Desmond chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Well I know...a teeny-tiny bit of Spanish so...maybe I'll learn something."

Josh beamed at the positive response on the photographer’s part, “Excellent! I did ask her not to make something spicy since I am not sure how well you deal with it,” he assured. “That’s great! You will surely learn a thing or two, even if some are bad words,” Josh joked and his face was bright with another smile when he spot his cousin, “There’s Raul, come on,” he added as he walked towards the young man who was slightly shorter than Josh, giving him a hug and started to talk a little fast in Spanish, only to be interrupted by Josh, “Primo, we have a visitor and his Spanish is not 100% fluent, we should switch to English,” he invited his cousin, “This is my friend Desmond, he studies in the same Institute I do,” Josh introduce them, having the cousin shaking Desmond’s hand and introducing himself with a similar cheerful tone as Josh’s.

Desmond nodded, "Okay thanks." He wasn't too sure how well he did with certain foods. So...he should try to take it slow for the most part. He chuckled softly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah...I sure hope I do." He moved with Josh and gave his cousin a smile. "Hey," he said and shook Raul's hand. "Nice to meet you."

Josh‘s cousin was welcoming of Desmond, talking to him a little about the city and asking what was his major. “I should apologize in advance for the traffic. It’s quite messy sometimes,” Josh said as they walked to the car and helped Desmond put his baggage on the trunk. This time Josh had traveled light because he had enough clothes and personal items at his grandparents. “Is there some touristic place you would like to visit while we’re here or would you prefer to do some exploring?” Desmond glanced around as Raul talked and he tried to take in all of the information. "I'm uh...a film student," he said with a shrug. "I'm doing so well in it to be honest but I'm trying. I used to be in animation and painting and stuff." He looked back over at Josh, "I don't mind traffic really. Um...no, I don't really know much about this place, to be honest. So wherever you want to go we can go."

Josh looked at Desmond, making sure Raul wasn’t making him uncomfortable but the other guy seemed relaxed as he answered. “Things are going well with your new professors and classmates?” Josh asked this time. “People say that all the time until they realize how bad it gets here,” he chuckled. “Okay, that might be a good thing because I can take you to the most iconic places, like the pyramids. Do you like museums?”

Desmond hummed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, well...I'm not too sure. My finals weren't the best..." he admitted. Desmond chuckled, "Well I guess I'll just have to wait and see." Desmond smiled, "Oh yeah? Sounds nice. And yeah, I like Museums."

Josh offered a sympathetic smile, “I suppose it’s quite understandable because you started the classes all over with a completely different focus,” he said in an understanding voice. “You will see! I think it would be best to move around in public transportation. Is easier and takes less time than in a car.” Josh nodded at the answer, “You will love it there and we have a lot of great museums to visit. Depending on what kind of things you want to see. There’s the Anthropology one. A botanic one. The Frida Kahlo one. We even have a Chocolate museum!”

Desmond nodded, "Yeah, I should have just...waited until the year was over." He sighed. "I just feel like I'm gonna be in school forever." Desmond smiled a bit, feeling more excited about the trip. "Really? A chocolate museum? Just of...chocolate from around the world?"

Josh reached to pat Desmond’s hand, “I am sure you are going to do better next semester. Getting used to takes some time.” Raul looked at Josh and elbowed him, making him remember he had gone through something similar than Desmond, “I know the feeling. Before Mousai I had studied here for a year, but I had to start over there because not all classes were equivalent, so it was easier to start over,” was the small explanation he offer to the other guy, hoping It would give him another perspective so he didn’t feel alone in his college situation. Josh nodded eagerly, “Yes! It’s a very amazing and delicious one. It include Mexican, European and Asian pieces from the XVII century to the XX century.”

Desmond smiled a bit, "Thanks...I really appriciate it," he said. It was good that someone else that Josh could relate to him in that way. He smiled, "Wow, really? Huh, that's...that's pretty cool. Can't wait to see it."

Josh grinned “You’re very welcome, Desmond,” he said in a kind tone. Raul smiled and started to explain more about the museum, causing Josh to laugh at the excitement of his cousin, “Raul loves chocolate so he probably will want to join us the day we go to that museum.”

Desmond focused back in on Raul as they talked more about the museum and smiled. "I think that'll be fun," he said with a smile. "Though...all this talk of sweets is making me hungry."

Josh was happy to see Desmond and Raul talking. He was hoping his family would make his schoolmate feel comfortable and welcomed. “It will be! And there are a couple of funny museums close to that one.” The mention of food cause Josh to offer a brighter smile, “Don’t worry, there will be food as soon as we get to the house.”

Desmond hummed, "Well, we could make a day of it...or go over the course of the vacation. Whichever is easiest for you all." Desmond relaxed and licked his lips. "Yeah, I can't wait to be honest."

Josh nodded “We can do that. In all honesty, I didn’t have a specific plan for my time here, so it is a very refreshing to try something new with you here.” Josh and his cousin laughed a little, “-if you say that to our Abuela she’s going to try to feed you the whole day. I learned that when I moved to live here.”

Desmond smiled, "Sounds pretty relaxing to me. I'm gonna let you guys take the lead on this one since this is your town and all." Desmond gave Josh a light look of concern. They were better with food and everything but the thought of being fed all day wasn't...appealing. "I'll keep that in mind."

Josh nodded “We will take good care of you,” he promised. “Don’t worry, I will remind my Abuela not everyone is used to eat as much as she expects us to. When I first moved here, she insisted that I was not eating enough because we are used to a different kind of food in the States,” Josh explained, assuming Desmond was worried about the spicy food.

Desmond relaxed a little bit and couldn't help the small smile at Josh trying to ease his mind. "I see...well, I'll uh...try to do my best with whatever she feeds me." He promised to try at the very least.

Josh nodded, “That’s more than enough, Desmond. And please, don’t worry about not wanting to offend anyone by saying no to something. We would prefer you to be comfortable and enjoy your time here and not to force yourself to do or try something you prefer not to.” He was very aware of how Mexican people could be quite overwhelming but he hoped he could buffer it so Desmond wouldn’t run for the hills.

Desmond nodded and felt himself relax even more. He was glad Josh was...well he was glad that Josh was working hard to keep him comfortable. He hoped he didn't drag the mood down too much during the vacation. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

Desmond hummed, "Um...well," he shrugged. "Yeah...I don't do it often, but I like going out well enough. It could be fun."

Josh nodded “Okay, we can go to a couple of places if you want. I have friend who is bartender in a good club. I used to party a lot when I lived here,” he said in a shyer voice. A couple of minutes later, Raul parked and clapped “We’re here!” the cousin announced as Josh grinned and looked at Desmond, “Welcome to the Aragón household!” he added in an excited voice as he got out of the car to help the photographer with his baggage.

Josh was nervous but very excited. He had missed his grandparents more than he would show. “You’re going to like it in there,” he said as they crossed the outer door, showing a big enough patio with the house a few meters forwards. Josh’s grandmother was already walking towards them and he didn’t lose a second to wrap his arms around the older woman who looked nothing like him. Josh wasn’t sure if Desmond knew he was adopted by this family and that was why he stuck up like a sore thumb between the dark haired and darker skin family “Abuela!” he finally said as the woman talked fast in Spanish, “Si, si, este es mi amigo, Desmond,” he said as he guided his grandmother to the tall guy, “Desmond, this is my Abuela, Carolina Aragón,” he introduced them.

Desmond looked around as they walked up toward the house, it looked like a decent place to live. Watching Josh and his grandma was sweet, it was super cute. It kind of made Desmond wish he had that kind of relationship with his own family. He smiled when Josh introduced him. "Hi...um...h-hola. It's nice to meet you."

Josh let out a soft laugh when Desmond tried some Spanish to greet his Abuela and as he expected, she pulled the taller man in for a hug instead of taking his hands, “I’m sorry, she is very touchy,” Josh explained with a smile as his grandmother patted Desmond’s arm talking to him still in Spanish, “She said she is happy to meet you and that you are welcome to her home whenever you want to visit.” It was not surprise for Josh the welcome Desmond was having since it was how his family treated him when he first arrived a long time ago. “She’s asking if you would rather to see your room first or if you’re hungry,” Josh translated again as they all walked towards the house.

Desmond nearly stumbled when Josh's grandmother pulled him into a hug. He blinked a couple of times as she threw a bunch of Spanish at him. He looked over at Josh and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Wow...that's very nice. I appreciate it." He looked to Josh again. "Um...well I think my room first so I can put my bags down and stuff."

Josh nodded and translated to his grandma what Desmond had said, “No problem at all. Come on, I’ll show you your room and give you some time to adjust and then we can come down to eat something and so you can meet everyone,” he explained as he guided the taller guy upstairs. “This will be your room,” he opened the second door in the hall, there’s a bathroom through that door. My room is there,” he pointed to the door across the hall, “If you need anything, please, just let me know.”

Desmond nodded and followed Josh through the house up toward his room. He wondered how many people he'll end up meeting today. "Okay," he said as he looked around to where Josh was directing him. "Thanks," they said and set his bag down. "I'll put my stuff away and then...we can go meet everyone."

Desmond nodded and went on to put all of his things away. Once things all settled he sat down on the bed for a few minutes. He knew he had been invited but a part of him still felt kind of...like he was intruding or something. Of course, this was only the first day so maybe that feeling will go away soon enough. Desmond rubbed his face and then headed out into the hallway to wait for Josh.

Desmond nodded, "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean...I didn't come out here to stay in my room the whole time." He smiled at him. "Okay, I hope I make a good impression on them. Let's go say 'hi'."

Josh smiled, trying to reassure his friend, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will.” He guided Desmond downstairs and to the living room where his family was waiting. His abuelo was sitting on his rocking chair and smiled, getting up to great his grandson with a hug. “Familia, él es mi amigo Desmond, va a estar con nosotros durante las vacaciones,” Josh said and then translated it to Desmond, “This is my grandpa, my aunt and uncle and you already met my cousin Raúl, this is her sister Adriana and their younger brother Gabriel.”

Desmond smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, let’s go.” He followed Josh down and smiled when he saw all the people downstairs. He nodded his head a bit and give everyone a small ‘hola’. “It’s nice to meet you all. And uh, thanks for having me. I’m excited to be here and see the city...and stuff.”

Josh smiled when all his family welcomed Desmond, some in English and other in Spanish, so Josh translated what his grandparents had said, “They said that you are very welcome and to make yourself at home and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything,” his voice kind and excited. “Are you still hungry?”

Desmond smiled, feeling better that everyone was so friendly and open. He was still a bit anxious, but it was the first day, and with how nice everyone was he doubted he would stay that way. He nodded, "Yeah...I could eat."

Desmond followed Josh into the dining room and looked over all the options he had to choose from. He hummed, looking over all the food and chewed on his bottom lip. He didn't know if Josh was aware of the struggles he had been going through and even though he had been getting a lot better, he still stumbled from time to time. "Um...I think I'd like a tostada."

Josh nodded and guided Desmond to the table, “I think you will like those. And if you don’t and prefer something else, just let me know. I wouldn’t mind making something else,” he said in a kind tone, remembering his first visits and how it took him a while to adjust trying food he was not used to.

Desmond smiled and sat down at the table. He nodded, "Thanks...I'm glad to hear it." Desmond settled down a bit. "Um...if you ever need help cooking I can help. I've been picking some stuff while I was away."

Josh sat next to Desmond and smiled, “You are very welcome.” The offer was one that Josh appreciated, “That sounds great. I didn’t know you were into cooking. We can try to cook something at some point. I can give you some pointers and you could give me some too,” he was quite excited about the idea. Josh reached to offer a plate and the tostadas for Desmond to get one as he described how they usually prepared them; putting the meat over the tostada and then the lettuce, cream and cheese and salsa if he wanted to try it but he suggested Desmond not to if he was too sensitive to spices.

Desmond rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm like cooking...but I learned some stuff while I was away." He smiled. "Thanks, I don't know what I can offer a cooking student but if I can think of anything I'll let you know." He hummed looking over the food and shrugged. "I'll try it the usual way and then if I don't like it then I'll do something different."

Josh nodded, “Oh, I see. That is nice, though, learning some cook related things. Everyone can offer some advice. Everyone cooks differently, and everyone has a different sense of taste and smell. My Abuela taught me that, so even if I’m a cooking student, I am confident I could learn something from you,” he assured. “Okay, then I recommend the green salsa, is the best one for my taste.”

Desmond hummed and nodded, "Okay...well, that's a good way to think about it I guess." Desmond didn't know it would actually go but he was sure it would be fun. "The green one," he mumbled as the gathered up his food to taste it. Desmond hummed at the taste and texture of the food. "This is...this is pretty good."

Josh smiled, “My abuela gives some good advices most of the times. She has a very special way to see the world and always looks for the good side on everything,” he explained. He watched Desmond prepare himself a tostada with an excited expression, hoping he would like them. When his friend said that indeed he liked the food he clapped, “I’m so glad to hear so! I will tell my abuela you liked them,” he said as he reached to serve himself a pambazo and started eating.

Desmond nodded, "I see, well I think that just means that she has a good head on her shoulders." He smiled and bit into his food again. Once he swallowed and wiped his mouth. "Thanks, it's been really nice so far."

Josh nodded, "I think so too. She is a kind woman," his voice showing how proud he was of his abuela. "I am glad to hear so. We wanted to make you feel at home."

Desmond smiled, glad to see how close Josh and his family seemed to be. "Thanks, I feel very welcomed," Desmond said. "So...I know you had mentioned taking me around to take pictures. Is there anywhere in particular we're gonna be heading?"

Desmond grinned a little bit and rubbed the back of his neck. "Good, I'm glad." Desmond hummed as he finished up his food. "I see..." he thought about it for a while. "Um...well...i think a museum would be fun. Maybe one that's about Modern Art...or maybe one where they're about Mexican culture. I think that would be fun."

Josh nodded happily, “There are a lot of museums we could visit. There are both one of modern art and one about Mexican culture. We can visit both if you want,” he offered happily.

Desmond smiled broadly, "Great, let's go to both. I'm sure they'll be amazing to walk through." Desmond really couldn't wait to walk through them and see what they had to offer. "Can't wait."

Josh nodded, “Excellent, we will go to both. They are, I am sure you will enjoy it!” Once they had finished with the food, Josh excused them to leave the table. “Do you feel with the energy to visit one of the museums now?”

Desmond helped cleaned up his plate and things and smiled at Josh. "Um, yeah...yeah, let's go. Am I allowed to take pictures in the museums or...soemthing?"

Once things were all cleaned up Desmond smiled knowing he could bring his camera with him. "Great, that's good to know." After Josh told everyone what the plan was Desmond shook his head. "No, I don't mind. Just let me grab my camera."

Desmond nodded, "Okay." He headed upstairs and into the room he was staying in and grabbed his camera and a jacket. After checking to make sure he had everything he needed he headed back downstairs to meet up with Josh. "Alright, let's get going."

Josh smiled and nodded when Desmond came back, "Excellent! I think we could make it to two museums today and depending on how tired you are we can visit other places in the city tomorrow," he said as he led his friend outside. "If you want to visit the pyramids we would have to leave very early because the archeological place is just outside the city."

Desmond followed Josh out of the house, "Yeah? I'm sure I can handle two museums today." Desmond's face lite up a bit at the mention of the pyramids. "Yeah, okay, I'd love that."

Desmond nodded, "Yeah I mean...why wouldn't I be excited? It's not every day a person gets to see pyramids close up." Desmond took a breath and shrugged. "I don't mind walking. I just need a lot of water."

Desmond glanced around as Raul talked and he tried to take in all of the information. "I'm uh...a film student," he said with a shrug. "I'm doing so well in it to be honest but I'm trying. I used to be in animation and painting and stuff." He looked back over at Josh, "I don't mind traffic really. Um...no, I don't really know much about this place, to be honest. So wherever you want to go we can go."

Desmond focused back in on Raul as they talked more about the museum and smiled. "I think that'll be fun," he said with a smile. "Though...all this talk of sweets is making me hungry."

Desmond hummed, "Well, we could make a day of it...or go over the course of the vacation. Whichever is easiest for you all." Desmond relaxed and licked his lips. "Yeah, I can't wait to be honest."

Josh offered another smile, “Please do.” He kept quiet for a little moment and then turned to look at Desmond again, “Do you like partying? Because we can do that too. I know good places here we can go.” Desmond hummed, "Um...well," he shrugged. "Yeah...I don't do it often, but I like going out well enough. It could be fun." Josh nodded “Okay, we can go to a couple of places if you want. I have friend who is bartender in a good club. I used to party a lot when I lived here,” he said in a shyer voice. A couple of minutes later, Raul parked and clapped “We’re here!” the cousin announced as Josh grinned and looked at Desmond, “Welcome to the Aragón household!” he added in an excited voice as he got out of the car to help the photographer with his baggage.

Desmond nodded again and his eyes looked out of the window as they pulled up to the house. "Looks good," he said. He headed out of the car to grab his bags, "Really though, I can't wait to be shown around. I'm...excited." Josh was nervous but very excited. He had missed his grandparents more than he would show. “You’re going to like it in there,” he said as they crossed the outer door, showing a big enough patio with the house a few meters forwards. Josh’s grandmother was already walking towards them and he didn’t lose a second to wrap his arms around the older woman who looked nothing like him. Josh wasn’t sure if Desmond knew he was adopted by this family and that was why he stuck up like a sore thumb between the dark haired and darker skin family “Abuela!” he finally said as the woman talked fast in Spanish, “Si, si, este es mi amigo, Desmond,” he said as he guided his grandmother to the tall guy, “Desmond, this is my Abuela, Carolina Aragón,” he introduced them. Desmond looked around as they walked up toward the house, it looked like a decent place to live. Watching Josh and his grandma was sweet, it was super cute. It kind of made Desmond wish he had that kind of relationship with his own family. He smiled when Josh introduced him. "Hi...um...h-hola. It's nice to meet you." Josh let out a soft laugh when Desmond tried some Spanish to greet his Abuela and as he expected, she pulled the taller man in for a hug instead of taking his hands, “I’m sorry, she is very touchy,” Josh explained with a smile as his grandmother patted Desmond’s arm talking to him still in Spanish, “She said she is happy to meet you and that you are welcome to her home whenever you want to visit.” It was not surprise for Josh the welcome Desmond was having since it was how his family treated him when he first arrived a long time ago. “She’s asking if you would rather to see your room first or if you’re hungry,” Josh translated again as they all walked towards the house. Desmond nearly stumbled when Josh's grandmother pulled him into a hug. He blinked a couple of times as she threw a bunch of Spanish at him. He looked over at Josh and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Wow...that's very nice. I appreciate it." He looked to Josh again. "Um...well I think my room first so I can put my bags down and stuff."

Josh nodded. “Sure, take your time. I will go check on my room and to see if my clothes there still fit,” he smiled and left the room to move to his own. So far, Desmond didn’t seem uncomfortable and he hoped things kept on like that when he got to meet some of his family who lived there with his grandparents. Josh lain on his bed and waited for a few minutes, giving his friend some time. Desmond nodded and went on to put all of his things away. Once things all settled he sat down on the bed for a few minutes. He knew he had been invited but a part of him still felt kind of...like he was intruding or something. Of course, this was only the first day so maybe that feeling will go away soon enough. Desmond rubbed his face and then headed out into the hallway to wait for Josh.

Josh washed his face and hands before getting out of his room, smiling when he found Desmond in the hall, “Hey! Are you ready to go downstairs?” he asked, hoping the other man wasn’t too nervous. “One of my aunts and her family live here with my grandparents so it will be them the one you would meet,” Josh explained. Desmond nodded, "Yeah, I guess I am. I mean...I didn't come out here to stay in my room the whole time." He smiled at him. "Okay, I hope I make a good impression on them. Let's go say 'hi'." Josh smiled, trying to reassure his friend, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will.” He guided Desmond downstairs and to the living room where his family was waiting. His abuelo was sitting on his rocking chair and smiled, getting up to great his grandson with a hug. “Familia, él es mi amigo Desmond, va a estar con nosotros durante las vacaciones,” Josh said and then translated it to Desmond, “This is my grandpa, my aunt and uncle and you already met my cousin Raúl, this is her sister Adriana and their younger brother Gabriel.” Desmond smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, let’s go.” He followed Josh down and smiled when he saw all the people downstairs. He nodded his head a bit and give everyone a small ‘hola’. “It’s nice to meet you all. And uh, thanks for having me. I’m excited to be here and see the city...and stuff.”

Josh nodded “Excellent! Come on,” he invited as the rest of his family moved to the dinning room. “My abuela made three different options, so you could try a bit of each or just the one that sounds more appealing to you. She made Pambazos, Pozole and Tostadas de tinga,” and then he proceeded to explain each of them. “Pambazos is a kind of sandwich that has fried potatoes on the inside, lettuce, cream, cheese and guacamole. Pozole is a kind of corn soup with meat or vegetables, lettuce, radish, oregano and a kind of pepper that is not spicy. And tostadas de tinga is a fried tortilla with chicken, cream, cheese and lettuce.” Desmond followed Josh into the dining room and looked over all the options he had to choose from. He hummed, looking over all the food and chewed on his bottom lip. He didn't know if Josh was aware of the struggles he had been going through and even though he had been getting a lot better, he still stumbled from time to time. "Um...I think I'd like a tostada." Josh nodded and guided Desmond to the table, “I think you will like those. And if you don’t and prefer something else, just let me know. I wouldn’t mind making something else,” he said in a kind tone, remembering his first visits and how it took him a while to adjust trying food he was not used to. Desmond smiled and sat down at the table. He nodded, "Thanks...I'm glad to hear it." Desmond settled down a bit. "Um...if you ever need help cooking I can help. I've been picking some stuff while I was away." Josh sat next to Desmond and smiled, “You are very welcome.” The offer was one that Josh appreciated, “That sounds great. I didn’t know you were into cooking. We can try to cook something at some point. I can give you some pointers and you could give me some too,” he was quite excited about the idea. Josh reached to offer a plate and the tostadas for Desmond to get one as he described how they usually prepared them; putting the meat over the tostada and then the lettuce, cream and cheese and salsa if he wanted to try it but he suggested Desmond not to if he was too sensitive to spices. Desmond rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm like

cooking...but I learned some stuff while I was away." He smiled. "Thanks, I don't know what I can offer a cooking student but if I can think of anything I'll let you know." He hummed looking over the food and shrugged. "I'll try it the usual way and then if I don't like it then I'll do something different." Josh nodded, “Oh, I see. That is nice, though, learning some cook related things. Everyone can offer some advice. Everyone cooks differently, and everyone has a different sense of taste and smell. My Abuela taught me that, so even if I’m a cooking student, I am confident I could learn something from you,” he assured. “Okay, then I recommend the green salsa, is the best one for my taste.” Desmond hummed and nodded, "Okay...well, that's a good way to think about it I guess." Desmond didn't know it would actually go but he was sure it would be fun. "The green one," he mumbled as the gathered up his food to taste it. Desmond hummed at the taste and texture of the food. "This is...this is pretty good." Josh smiled, “My abuela gives some good advices most of the times. She has a very special way to see the world and always looks for the good side on everything,” he explained. He watched Desmond prepare himself a tostada with an excited expression, hoping he would like them. When his friend said that indeed he liked the food he clapped, “I’m so glad to hear so! I will tell my abuela you liked them,” he said as he reached to serve himself a pambazo and started eating. Desmond nodded, "I see, well I think that just means that she has a good head on her shoulders." He smiled and bit into his food again. Once he swallowed and wiped his mouth. "Thanks, it's been really nice so far." Josh nodded, "I think so too. She is a kind woman," his voice showing how proud he was of his abuela. "I am glad to hear so. We wanted to make you feel at home." Desmond smiled, glad to see how close Josh and his family seemed to be. "Thanks, I feel very welcomed," Desmond said. "So...I know you had mentioned taking me around to take pictures. Is there anywhere in particular we're gonna be heading?"

Josh beamed at the answer, “That makes me happy. And I’m sure it will make them happy too.” The mentions of the sightseeing were something that excited him. He loved showing people the best places around the city he had learned to love when he was younger. “There are a lot places we could visit. I suppose it depends on what you want to see first. We could go to archeology ruins, museums, downtown, there’s a zoo and a botanic garden. Everything is in the city or very close to it, so there wouldn’t be a problem with whichever place you want to see first.” Desmond grinned a little bit and rubbed the back of his neck. "Good, I'm glad." Desmond hummed as he finished up his food. "I see..." he thought about it for a while. "Um...well...i think a museum would be fun. Maybe one that's about Modern Art...or maybe one where they're about Mexican culture. I think that would be fun." Josh nodded happily, “There are a lot of museums we could visit. There are both one of modern art and one about Mexican culture. We can visit both if you want,” he offered happily. Desmond smiled broadly, "Great, let's go to both. I'm sure they'll be amazing to walk through." Desmond really couldn't wait to walk through them and see what they had to offer. "Can't wait." Josh nodded, “Excellent, we will go to both. They are, I am sure you will enjoy it!” Once they had finished with the food, Josh excused them to leave the table. “Do you feel with the energy to visit one of the museums now?” Desmond helped cleaned up his plate and things and smiled at Josh. "Um, yeah...yeah, let's go. Am I allowed to take pictures in the museums or...soemthing?"

Josh smiled, thankful of the help Desmond offered to clean his plate and nodded at the question. “Excellent! Yes, yes you can. The only rule is that you cannot use the flash of the camera,” he explained as he talked to his family to let them know about the plans. “Do you mind if we move around in public transportation? With the traffic here, it’s easier to use the subway and buses than the car.” Once things were all cleaned up Desmond smiled knowing he could bring his camera with him. "Great, that's good to know." After Josh told everyone what the plan was Desmond shook his head. "No, I don't mind. Just let me grab my camera."

Josh smiled, “Perfect! I recommend you getting a light jacket. Our weather changes unexpectedly in the evenings,” he explained as he walked with Desmond on the direction of the stairs. “I’ll wait for you here and then we are ready to go,” Josh assured. Desmond nodded, "Okay." He headed upstairs and into the room he was staying in and grabbed his camera and a jacket. After checking to make sure he had everything he needed he headed back downstairs to meet up with Josh. "Alright, let's get going." Josh smiled and nodded when Desmond came back, "Excellent! I think we could make it to two museums today and depending on how tired you are we can visit other places in the city tomorrow," he said as he led his friend outside. "If you want to visit the pyramids we would have to leave very early because the archeological place is just outside the city." Desmond followed Josh out of the house, "Yeah? I'm sure I can handle two museums today." Desmond's face lite up a bit at the mention of the pyramids. "Yeah, okay, I'd love that."

Josh offered another smile when he noticed Desmond so excited about the pyramids, “I think you will have fun in the museums and for your expression, you are certainly going to love the pyramids,” his voice showing he was excited too. “I hope you like walking because we are going to do that a lot!” Desmond nodded, "Yeah I mean...why wouldn't I be excited? It's not every day a person gets to see pyramids close up." Desmond took a breath and shrugged. "I don't mind walking. I just need a lot of water."

Josh smiled “And you’re in luck because we will be allowed to climb them as well and look at the whole city from the top of the biggest one,” he explained. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to have enough water.”

Desmond felt his eyes go wide slightly. "Oh really? That's cool, are people not allowed to climb it all the time?" Desmond grinned a bit and nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

Josh smiled “In other states where there are pyramids they don’t let you climb them. Here they do, but I believe they will stop allowing it at some point because of the damage it’s caused to them,” he explained.

#chatzy para #joshskitchen

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clementineverett · 7 years

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Chasing Waves - Chapter 2: Team

[Chapter 1]

[AO3 Link]

Thanks for waiting! Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 2: Team

It’s some time in the middle of the night -- or really early morning -- when Gabe wakes up and wanders into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He finds his dad pacing around, running one hand through his hair like he usually does when he’s agitated. The other hand presses his phone to his ear.

“You’ve called 9-1-1 already, yes?” Dad nods, humming. “Okay. Mamá, I’m going to call Javi. We’ll take separate cars and drive around. He can’t be too far. We’re going to find him, okay? Mamá, please get some sleep. Everything is going to be fine. We’re going to find him. He’s going to be okay. Te quiero.”

Dad hangs up and breathes a deep sigh.

“Dad?” Gabe mumbles, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

His dad turns around, startled. “Gabe? What are you doing up so late?”

“I just woke up,” Gabe replies. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes and squints in the dim light. Light sheen of sweat reflects off his dad’s forehead. His jaw is clenched tightly. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?” Gabe asks.

“Your abuelo… ” Dad pauses and inhales before continuing. “He’s gone.”

Gabe is instantly awake. A pang of dread hits his stomach. He swallows hard. “Gone? What do you mean, ‘gone?’”

“We don’t know where he is,” his dad clarifies. “Your abuela woke up and he wasn’t in the house. She found the front door wide open, but nothing’s been taken. No signs of forced entry. But it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” For a moment, he wonders if his dad is repeating those words more for himself rather than for Gabe. “I think your abuelo might have wandered off.”

“Wandered off?”

His dad looks down, folding his arms across his chest. Gabe swears his dad’s eyes are shinier now than a few seconds ago. “We took him to the doctor a few days ago. He has Alzheimer’s disease, mijo.”

Gabe nods slowly. It’s strange -- the news didn’t exactly surprise nor shock him. But to hear the words from his dad’s mouth -- to hear a confirmation, a name to all the signs Gabe had sort of picked up over the years -- settled his stomach with dread. Gabe can’t pinpoint exactly when he started to notice, but Pipo had definitely become a little more withdrawn and quiet over the years -- which, at first, Gabe had thought it to be increasing tiredness because, you know. Old people things. There were also times he’d be talking to Pipo, and Pipo would ask how his day was... again. Or repeat the same sentence right after saying it. It didn’t happen too often, so Gabe had merely shrugged it off and chalked it up to occasional forgetfulness, because God knows he forgets his own name around attractive girls sometimes.

But his internal alarm sounded some time ago in the recent past, when Pipo had accused Gabe of stealing his watch, even though Gabe was 1. nowhere near his abuelo when his watch disappeared and 2. not exactly a professional thief (he doesn’t even steal anyway?). They later found it sitting in the fridge, on top of a container of leftovers. Gabe remembered the way his dad and his uncle exchanged worried looks that day.

Dad sighs. “I should have listened to Javi,” he murmurs to himself, “I should have brought Pa to the doctor sooner…” His voice cracks, and for a moment it seems like Dad is about to cry. Gabe panics. What does he do? He’d never seen Dad cry before. Ever. But his dad recovers instantly, with hardened eyes and furrowed brows.

“Dad…”

“We’ve already called and notified the police,” his dad goes on, uninterrupted. “I’m going to call your uncle. You should go back to sleep.”

“I can help search,” Gabe offers. He can drive now. It only makes sense -- three men can cover more ground than two. He can help.

“Your uncle and I are handling this,” Dad replies. “Go back to sleep.”

“It’s 4 AM, and I’m already awake-”

“-Which is why you need to go back to bed.”

“But Dad-”

“Do not argue with me on this, mijo,” his dad warns calmly, his voice rumbling low and deep. “Your uncle and I are handling it. End of discussion.”

Gabe looks his dad in the eye, and is met with a look of intense determination that Gabe has known all his life. There’s no way he can win this. Gabe slumps his shoulders in defeat. “Fine,” he quietly concedes, and stalks back to his room.

---

Gabe balances the box of cassette tapes in his lap. It weighs a lot more than he expects it to. Now that he thinks about it, Gabe definitely remembers seeing more boxes of tapes lying around Yaya and Pipo’s house. He’d honestly never really noticed them, the way you don’t actively notice walls and doors and other fundamental things.

He watches the world outside rush by him, set ablaze by the sunset. Kate has a closing shift, so it’s just him and Mari with Dad today. Gabe glances sideways, sneaking a peek at his dad and finds himself unsurprised at how the bags under his dad’s eyes seem heavier than usual. Gabe knows his dad took an earlier shift so they could all visit Pipo. These visits are important to Dad.

Gabe watches as they pass a perfectly manicured lawn, on top of which sits a familiar sign: MOONSTAR CARE RESIDENCE. He knows how much Dad doesn’t like this (“A man belongs with his family,” Dad had always said). But Gabe supposes it must be for the best. It’s clear that Yaya could not longer look after Pipo all by herself, and there was also no way in hell she’d ever leave his side either, so Javi and Dad figured that selling the house would help pay for the nursing home and Pipo’s treatments. When the doors closed for the final time, Gabe had turned his head away and cried silently, mourning the loss of house he’d spent nearly all of his childhood in.

After checking in with reception, they walk to Yaya and Pipo’s suite -- Gabe carries the box of tapes, his dad an old boombox, and Mari a sleek wooden case containing domino tiles. Dad knocks on the door, and Yaya answers. Dad greets her quietly, kissing her on the forehead before entering. Gabe sets down the box to embrace his abuela.

“You grow more handsome every time I see you.” Yaya squishes his cheeks and plants a kiss on his forehead.

“So he was uglier last time?” Gabe hears Mari pipe up.

“Wow.” Gabe shoots her a glare. The only thing stopping him from flipping the bird is that fact that their abuela is standing right in front of him.

Yaya clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Mija, be nice to your brother.” Mari only shrugs before moving to hug her.

Gabe rolls his eyes and picks up the box before stepping inside the room. He finds his abuelo sitting in an armchair. Dad has pulled up a chair beside him, and is speaking softly to him. Gabe watches Pipo, whose arms fold across his chest. His face wears an uncharacteristically sullen look. Pipo occasionally glances at Dad and nods at some of his comments, but the blank look in his eyes indicate his lack of investment in the conversation.

Passiveness. Withdrawal. Depression. Gabe recalls a few of the symptoms from a brief internet article. This seems wrong, Gabe decides, wrong as if the sun had suddenly started rising from the west . His Pipo laughed loud and boisterously, and made wry, witty remarks in rapid-fire Spanish. But his laughter and remarks had grown quieter and less frequent over the years. Gabe’s chest twinges, and for a moment he wants nothing but to hug his abuelo, to squeeze him tight and shield him from all of this, somehow.

“Pipo,” Gabe gently interjects. “We brought you your music.”

Pipo looks up at that. Gabe and Mari set up the boombox, and Gabe grabs a random tape from the box. Discoteca reads the label. Vibrant horns and catchy beats soon fill the room. A soft smile grows on Pipo’s face.

“We brought your dominoes too, Pipo,” Mari says. “We can play a game if you want.”

Pipo nods. “Gracias, mis hijos. You two never fail to bring me a smile.” His fond smile turns into the familiar, playful smirk Gabe knows and loves about his abuelo. “But are you two ready to lose to this old man for the millionth time? You know I’ll always be the Domino Champion of the Garcia clan.”

Mari giggles, beaming. “Pipo, you’re silly!”

Mari’s laughter is so infectious Gabe can’t help but chuckle too. He catches his dad’s gaze, who smiles at him gratefully. Gabe smiles back.

They get back home a lot later than Gabe had expected. Although he managed to complete a good chunk of his reading for his AP World History class back at the Gordons’ house, there’s still a bit left to do. Gabe sets his textbooks and the History Bowl study guide on the dining table and gets to work.

He hears the sound of dial tones coming from the kitchen, and then his dad’s voice saying, “Paul. Hey. It’s David. How are you and Clint?” Gabe is momentarily caught off-guard. Paul, as in his supervisor Paul from work? No, can’t be. We know too many Pauls, Gabe thinks to himself as he mentally runs through a list of Pauls the family knows. Must be Dr. Paul Lingard. One of Dad’s friends from the military. The army doctor.

Gabe hears his dad exchange a few pleasantries and bits of small talk over the phone, which he tries to block out as he shifts his focus back to his homework. Gabe manages to concentrate for a few more moments, but his ears can’t help but catch his dad say, “Yes, I’m aware that there’s no known cure. I just… I don’t know, Paul. I need to believe.” A pause. “Paul, I’m fine. I don’t need…” Another pause. “My father is the one who’s suffering, Paul. Not me. But thank you. I appreciate it.”

Gabe decides he can’t concentrate any longer, so he grabs his stuff and heads to his room, plopping down his textbooks and notebooks on his desk before sitting down to continue working on them.

His alarm clock screams like a banshee’s wail straight from the depths of hell. Gabe lifts his head, one side of his face gone completely numb. He hisses, bringing a hand to massage the back of his neck where it twinges painfully. When his vision comes into focus, Gabe notices his notebooks laying strewn before him. A spot of drool on the cover of his textbook.

“You’ve got to me shitting me,” Gabe mutters to himself bitterly as he gets up from his desk, his entire body feeling sore. He groans when he realizes he’s still in his clothes from yesterday. Gabe feels instant relief when he slams the off button of his alarm clock, grateful for the absence of the hellish noise that was just beating him upside the head. Gabe massages his temples, questioning the reason for his existence before grabbing another change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to shower.

Gabe’s hair is still soaked when he dashes out the door (not before pulling on his beanie in hopes of concealing this fact). He pushes fervently on his skateboard, praying the wind will somehow dry his hair by the time he reaches school. When he passes by Duck’s house, Gabe waves to his best friend, who’s sitting on the porch.

Duck waves back, rolling his eyes as he hops on his own skateboard. “Bout time, Garcia.”

“ETA?” Gabe calls out.

“We’ll be five or ten minutes late, maybe?” Duck waves his hand dismissively. “But fashionably late, as always.”

“You know you could always go ahead.”

Duck laughs. “I actually just got of the house by the time you came around.”

Gabe snorts, chuckling. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Wow.”

“Last one who reaches school owes the winner pudding?” Gabe challenges.

“Oh, you’re on. But wait -- I gotta film this. ” Duck glides toward the curb to step off his skateboard. He fishes his camcorder from his backpack -- a small, handheld model that’s outdated but still got the job done. Gabe remembers the excited flurry of texts Duck had sent him when he finally found an affordable camcorder in good condition that still functioned, dramatically proclaiming a victory after having spent weeks hunting in the local thrift shops.

Gabe has to laugh. “You’re bringing your camera with you now?”

“Yeah, man.” Duck shrugs has he turns on his camcorder. “I reached 20,000 subscribers last night, by the way. This is defs going in my ‘thank you’ montage.”

“Grats.”

“Thanks.” Duck sticks his tongue out and furrows his brows in concentration as he fiddles around with the settings. “Hold on. Damn record button isn’t working again.”

“We’re going to be even more late, now,” Gabe points out.

“Wait wait wait.” Duck rapidly clicks the button. “Okay. I got it now.” Duck points the camcorder towards Gabe. “Say hi.”

Gabe waves at the camera.

“Bout to race my best friend to school,” Duck talks to the camcorder. “The loser owes pudding.”

“I prefer chocolate, by the way,” Gabe comments.

“Jackass,” Duck replies cheekily. “Alright. On my mark. Three, two, one, GO!”

The two friends take off, pushing madly at their skateboards. Maniacal laughter and howling echo down the empty street. Gabe’s going so fast his beanie nearly flies off his head. When he nudges ahead of Duck, Gabe executes a kickflip for the camera.

“Show off!” Duck yells.

Gabe cackles loudly. He savours the feel of the wind rushing at him, the sound of concrete screaming under the wheels of his skateboard, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. No amount of coffee could ever beat this sort of thrill.

The two friends are neck and neck when they approach the school. Gabe leans forward, pushing hastily in hopes of cutting his best friend off, but Duck shouts, “I prefer butterscotch!” before managing to burst past him. Gabe rolls his eyes.

Duck twists around, trying to aim the camcorder towards Gabe when his skateboard suddenly shoots out from under him. Duck tumbles, quickly tucking into a roll with practiced ease. His camcorder, however, launches from his hand and onto the concrete, rolling a few times, bits of plastic and glass flying before the camcorder finally skids to a halt.

“Oh shit,” Gabe swears loudly and immediately rushes to his best friend. “Oh my god, are you okay?” He helps Duck onto his feet. “What a wipeout.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Duck rolls his right shoulder a few times, wincing. “I’ll be fine. That’s gonna leave a bruise though.” His face falls when he spots his camcorder lying a few feet away. “Fuck.” Duck picks up his now smashed-up camcorder, rotating it in his hands to examine the damage. “Lenses cracked. A few parts came off.” He hisses in frustration as he brushes his fingertips over the cracks and edges. “Probably can’t film with this again, but I think I can still download the footage.” Duck groans, shoulders drooping. “Well, that’s one way to start off my morning.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Gabe replies, frowning.

Duck shrugs him off. “It’s not your fault.” He cradles the camcorder in his hands. “Rest in peace, my child. You served me well.” He sighs. “Wow. I am so bummed out right now.”

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Gabe says. “I’ll get you two cups of pudding, okay?”

“Okay,” Duck mumbles, shoulders still slumping.

Gabe makes good on his promise when lunchtime rolls around, but the two cups of pudding only marginally improve Duck’s mood.

After AP World History ends, Mr. Everett asks Gabe, Clementine, and Sarah to stay behind shortly for a quick History Bowl meeting. Gabe says a quick hello to Clementine and Sarah and situates himself closer to them, as the two girls are already sitting next to each other.

“Hey, is Duck okay?” Clementine asks him. “He seems a little moody today.”

“He broke his camcorder this morning,” Gabe replies. “Fell off his skateboard.”

“Oh no,” Sarah comments, wincing. “He didn’t hurt himself too badly, did he? Because that would really suck.”

“He’ll live,” Gabe says. “A few bruises here and there, but he’ll live. His camera though…” Gabe imitates that sound of an explosion (okay, the camcorder didn’t exactly explode, he knows, but it might as well have considering the damage).

“Poor Duck,” Clementine says, frowning. “He really did love that camera.”

“Yeah, he did,” Gabe replies.

“So…” Sarah begins before excitedly asking, “What did you think about today’s lesson, guys?” She claps her hands together, smiling widely. “Genghis Khan, huh? I mean, I totally don’t condone what he did, you know, with all the killing and stuff. But you’ve got admit it’s kind of impressive, building the largest empire and all.”

“It really is,” Gabe admits. “I’m actually surprised that Genghis Khan was really tolerant of other ethnicities and religions? Especially for someone who’s known for killing a lot of people.”

“Right?!” Sarah replies. “People are so weird. History is so weird.” She sighs fondly. “And so awesome.”

Gabe hums in agreement.

Clementine chuckles. “Nerds.”

Sarah nudges her with her elbow. “Okay, Clem, captain of the History Bowl team.”

“Guilty as charged,” Clementine says, raising her hands in defeat.

“Thanks for waiting, everyone,” Mr. Everett addresses them. “I just wanted to let you all know that we’re a little short on funds this year, so there’s going to be a delay in obtaining this year’s study guide.”

“Will it put us at a disadvantage or something if we don’t have the study guides right away?” Gabe asks.

“It might,” Mr. Everett replies. “Last year’s study guides will do for now, just until we can get ahold of this year’s. There are usually a few questions that get repeated from the year before.”

“Will the annual bake sale be enough?” Clementine inquires.

“I believe so, for the study guide at least. And hopefully for the entry fees for Regionals as well,” Mr. Everett responds.

“What about for traveling and hotel costs for when we get into Nationals? And the entry fees for the tournament?”

A smile plays on Mr. Everett’s lips. “You really want to get into Nationals again, do you?”

“I want to win it this time,” Clementine declares.

“I admire your determination, Clementine,” Mr. Everett says with a chuckle. “We’ll have to see how successful the bake sale will be, but until then we should take one step at a time. We should at least figure out obtaining the study guide before worrying about Nationals.”

“Of course.” Clementine nods. “So when can we start the bake sale?”

“I’ll let you know,” Mr. Everett replies. “First I need to talk to the school administration and book a date. I’ll update you guys when I get to that.”

“Just in case if the bake sale isn’t enough, we can fundraise with chocolates,” Sarah suggests. “They practically sell themselves, especially around the Christmas season.”

Gabe nods to that. “They’re pretty popular. My sister sold five cases of chocolate bars when she was fundraising for her camping trip last year.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mr. Everett replies. “I also wanted to discuss which specialties I’ll be assigning to each of you.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow. “Specialties?”

“Each of you guys will be in charge of a category, and you pretty much have to know everything about it,” Mr. Everett explains. “There are three categories: Ancient History, 16th to 19th European Century Military History, and 20th Century History.”

“Arvo was always in charge of 16th to 19th European Century Military History,” Clementine says. “Do you mind if you take that category, Gabe?”

“I can do that,” Gabe replies. “How about you guys? Which categories are you taking?”

“Ancient History for me,” Sarah says, “and 20th Century History for Clementine. We’ve been specializing in these categories since we joined the team, so we’ve got pretty good knowledge on them already.”

Gabe sucks in a breath. “Guess I have to catch up to your guys’ level, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sarah says. “Clem and I have come up with some fantastic studying strategies over the years. We’ll help you out. We’re a team.”

Gabe nods, smiling. “Good to know.”

“Thanks for taking that category on, Gabe. Now that we’ve settled our specialities,” Mr. Everett begins, “I also wanted to discuss our weekly meeting time. I understand that Clementine will be organizing some study sessions outside of school hours?”

Clementine nods. “We’re still figuring that out.”

“Let me know once you have,” Mr. Everett says. “Our arrangement last year for our club meetings was lunch hour on Tuesday and Thursday, and after school for an hour at 3:00 on Friday. Is that okay with everyone?”

Everyone nods.

“Wait,” Gabe says, raising his hand. “What’s the difference between the club meetings and the study sessions?”

“The club meetings are to help you guys prepare and get used to the tournament setting,” Mr. Everett replies. “I keep score, and you all get to use the buzzers when you answer the questions. I’ll also update you guys with any important information regarding the upcoming tournaments. We usually also touch base, update each other on our studying progress, and help each other out with studying if need be.”

“And the study sessions are just more for studying,” Clementine adds. “Even though we’re all in charge of different categories, the information usually overlaps, especially with my category and yours. We still need to review and study by ourselves, but the study sessions are really good for quizzing each other and strengthening our knowledge.”

“I see,” Gabe replies.

“Does anyone else have any more questions?” Mr. Everett asks. Everyone shakes their head. “Before I wrap up this meeting, just one more thing-” Mr. Everett hands them each a thick packet of papers, neatly stapled together. “Here are last year’s study guides for your respective categories. Thanks for staying, everyone. I’ll see you all at class tomorrow.”

------

“Hellooooo?” Duck waves a hand in front of Gabe’s face. Gabe rears back, blinking. “Earth to Gabe?” They’re in the basement of the Gordons’ house as they usually are after school. The GameCube is up and running (vintage and in perfect condition, Duck had relayed to Gabe when he bought it off his neighbour, Nick). A bowl of popcorn sits between them on the floor.

“Sorry,” Gabe mumbles. He squints at the TV screen, trying to will in concentration.

It’s really happening, it’s really fucking happening, has pretty much been the only thought that’s been running through Gabe’s head ever since the meeting ended. Sure, technically nothing has happened yet. But for Gabe, the meeting felt like some kind of first, real grasp on his future. A first step to all the blood, sweat, and tears to come, the calm before the storm. It's one thing to say he's going to join the team, it's another to actually make a commitment to this type of thing. Something flutters in his stomach, but Gabe can’t tell if it’s excitement or fear. On one hand, it’s a chance to finally prove himself to his dad. But on the other -- he is putting all his eggs in one basket, gambling his entire future on the off-chance of winning Nationals. Gabe gulps, his heart nervously drumming in his chest.

Duck pauses the game, sighing as he turns to Gabe. “All right, what’s up?”

Gabe huffs. “What do you mean, ‘what’s up?’”

“This is, like, the fifth game we’ve played,” Duck points out. “I just played Kirby for crying out loud, and you still somehow managed to lose to me.” He raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong with your car? Is Sexerella okay?”

“My car’s fine,” Gabe snaps. “And can you not say that out loud?” What if Clementine hears? are his unspoken thoughts.

“What? Sexerella?” Duck asks, shooting him a confused look.

Gabe cringes. “Yeah, that. What if your parents hear?” Gabe lies. “What if they think I’m, like, weird or something?”

Duck’s eyebrows raise even higher. “You know my parents could give two less shits about the name of your car. And you also know that my dad would think it’s hilarious.” Duck sighs, exasperated. “All right. Something’s clearly up.” He glares at him. “Spill.”

Gabe hates how well his best friend knows him sometimes. He sighs, admitting, “I don’t even know if I want to enlist anymore.”

Duck lets out a low whistle. “But it’s been your plan since like, forever?”

“Yeah, I know,” Gabe replies, frowning. “But it’s never been really my plan though.”

“Damn.” Duck furrows his eyebrows. “Your dad knows?”

Gabe shakes his head.

“Bummer,” Duck responds. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Gabe says quietly. “I’m still figuring it out. I’ll be fine.”

Duck nods. “If you say so.” He exits the pause menu and shuts the video game console off. “Wanna go skate? I’m a little tired of winning.”

Gabe snorts. “Ha ha,” he drones in a deadpan manner. “Wish I could, but I have to study.”

“You got that much homework already?”

“I joined AP World History. We’ve been assigned a lot of reading to do already,” Gabe replies. “And I also joined the History Bowl club as well.” He produces his study guide from his backpack. “This is the last year’s study guide for my category, 16th to 19th Century History.”

“So Clementine did manage to convince you,” Duck drawls. “Thank God. ” He breathes a sigh of relief.

Gabe feels his cheeks start to burn. “W-What?” Oh shit. Does Duck finally know about his totally lowkey crush on Clementine? I’m never gonna live this down, Gabe thinks as he bids a final farewell to his dignity.

“In case you said no, she was gonna get me to persuade you to join.” Duck shrugs, rolling his eyes. “That girl is too determined for her own good sometimes, lemme tell you.”

Gabe pauses, waiting for the oncoming onslaught of roasts. But Duck only looks at him expectantly. “Right,” Gabe replies after a beat. “Mind if I study here?”

“The dining room upstairs would be better, actually,” Duck suggests. “The lighting here is a little too dim. While you study, I,” Duck points to himself, “am going to edit some videos.”

“Still can’t believe you went viral,” Gabe scoffs.

“What can I say? The people love me and my content,” Duck knowingly states, grinning. The video in question that launched Duck into Internet fame (or infamy, depending on who you asked) was some surreal montage of rapid-cut footage from Spongebob Squarepants overlaid with a mashup of a certain Childish Gambino song and the state anthem of the Soviet Union. Gabe is as much of a meme-loving millennial as the next person, but even Duck’s depth of irony is completely lost on him. Still, Gabe was pretty impressed -- and proud, even -- when he heard of Duck’s overnight rise to fame.

Gabe rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“I’m the humblest person you know,” Duck replies sarcastically. “What on earth could you be possibly talking about?”

Gabe only shakes his head, chuckling as the two friends climb up the stairs and head separate ways -- Duck to his room, and Gabe towards the dining room. His stomach flips when he spots Clementine at the dining table, slouching over a notebook, her brows furrowed in concentration. “Mind if I join you?” Gabe asks.

“Not at all,” Clementine replies without tearing her eyes away from her notebook.

Gabe pulls up a chair and sits across from her, and begins to scan through the study guide.

“Studying already?” Clementine asks. Gabe looks up and sees her staring at him, amused.

“Aren’t you’re studying too?” Gabe asks in return, pointing to her notebook.

Clementine shakes her head. “Not yet. Just figuring out my schedule so I can coordinate study sessions with you and Sarah -- two or three times a week, hopefully. We usually hold them at the diner, sometimes at the library. When are you free, by the way?”

“I usually work weekend mornings,” Gabe replies. “Occasionally my work calls me in for a closing shift on a weekday. And I also visit my grandpa on Sunday nights. Sometimes more throughout the week, depending on my dad.”

Clementine nods, jotting down in her notebook. “Sounds good. Why don’t you give me your number, so I can contact you and let you know when the next study sessions will be? I’ll give you my number too.” She hands Gabe her phone.

Gabe widens his eyes in surprise as they exchange phones, and types out his name and phone number in the Contacts app. This is probably the first time a girl has asked for his number. It’s not like she’s hitting on you or anything, Gabe reminds himself. Still… this is new. And kinda nice. He snaps a quick selfie and adds it as his contact photo.

They hand each other’s phones back. Gabe checks his Contacts. Clementine Fitzgerald. Her phone number. Oh, and she took a selfie too. Okay. Cool cool cool. No doubt, no doubt. It’s not like it’s really unfair how cute she is sometimes...

“Great,” Clementine says, snapping Gabe out of his thoughts. He tears his eyes from his phone as a blush starts to dust his face. “I’ll update you when Sarah lets me know her schedule.” “You bet,” he croaks.

---

There’s about an hour left in his shift when Gabe asks himself for the 20th time why taking the opening shift on a goddamn Saturday morning was a good idea. I could be sleeping right now, Gabe thinks to himself, like he does every Saturday morning. But gas and cellphone bills don’t pay for themselves.

He yawns surreptitiously and quickly rubs the sleep from his eyes before continuing to scan the items of the customer in front of him. If Gabe so much as paused for a second, Carver would ream his ass out. Something something productivity something something I ought to take a dime from your check yadda yadda. Gabe used to be terrified by his manager (okay he still kind of is, to be honest). But his supervisor Paul had pointed out that it’s illegal to reduce pay that’s already below minimum wage, so Gabe knows his manager is just yapping a bunch of horseshit. But still -- Carver is not the kind of guy you’d want to piss off.

The line of customers dissipates, and Gabe takes a brief moment to glance at the clock for the trillionth time. Gabe sighs to himself and considers grabbing a fourth cup of coffee after his shift when he spots a familiar figure walk through the automatic doors.

“Javi?” Gabe calls out from behind the counter. He waves, and his uncle waves back.

“Gabe!” Javi beams at him. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

“I’m working weekend mornings now,” Gabe replies. “Can’t work as much weekday afternoon and evening shifts like I did in the summer, because of school and all. Anyways, are you looking for something?”

“A picture frame, actually. It’s for a poster I got as a gift to myself.” Javi presents a thin cylinder of rolled up paper in his hand.

“A gift? What’s the occasion?”

Javi pauses, glancing around. “I’m five years sober today,” Javi says quietly and smiles. “I got myself a motivational poster.”

“It doesn’t have a cheesy quote, does it?” Gabe jokingly asks.

Javi shrugs. “A ship in harbor is safe -- but that is not what ships are built for. Is that cheesy?”

“It kinda is.” Gabe replies, grinning back. “But I’m glad, Javi.” He’d heard a bit about Javi’s partying antics from back in the day -- back when he still played baseball in the big leagues. Gabe only knows a few bits and pieces, mostly from his dad warning him to never go down that kind of path. “I’m really proud of you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Javi replies fondly. “That means a lot.”

“Shit. I wish got you a card or something.” Gabe frowns, scratching the back of his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no biggie.”

“This is an important milestone, so it kinda is,” Gabe insists. “Do you have plans later? My shift is ending soon. Let me treat you to lunch, whatever you want -- but that, er, won’t break the bank of a seventeen-year-old?”

Javi chuckles. “No, I don’t have plans. Unless you count hitting the gym and rewatching Hot Fuzz as plans?”

Gabe rolls his eyes playfully. “Amazing.”

“You’re the one who asked if I had plans, kiddo.”

“Fine, fine. But I meant like, if you have plans to celebrate with Pipo and Yaya?” Gabe asks. “Or Dad?” Gabe studies his uncle’s face: blank. Hesitant. “Wait -- do they even know?”

Javi shakes his head. “Honestly, they all have a lot on their plate,” Javi replies, looking away. “I didn’t want to burden them. They’ve got a lot to deal with right now.”

Gabe frowns, before boldly declaring: “Alrighty then. That settles it. Lunch is on me. And I’m getting you a card, too.” He tilts his chin up in determination, crossing his arms over his chest.

Javi smiles at him fondly. “You’re too sweet, Gabe.”

Gabe shrugs, waving his hands dismissively. “Don’t mention it. Anyways, so you were looking for a picture frame?”

“Right.”

“From the top of my head, I know we have some but they’re those small, photograph-sized types.” Gabe scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I can ask my supervisor, he’ll definitely know for sure.” Gabe leads his uncle to the Customer Service Support counter where Paul is standing behind.

“How’s it going, kid?” Paul asks.

“It’s going good,” Gabe replies. “My uncle, Javi, is looking for a poster-sized picture frame. Javi, this is my supervisor, Paul. We also call him Jesus.��

Paul laughs heartily as he shakes Javi’s hand. “Apparently, some of the kids here think I look like Jesus. I really don’t see the resemblance.” Truth be told, Paul resembled more of a hippie straight from those photos of the Vietnam War protests he’d seen in his textbooks -- long, flowing hair (which was styled into a neat bun today) and a full beard. Paul even acted like a hippie too, somewhat, with his kind face and easygoing demeanor. However, Gabe and his coworkers had decided that ‘John Lennon’ just wasn’t as good of a nickname as ‘Jesus.’

Javi’s eyes widen as he chuckles. “I don’t know what Jesus looks like, but if they’re referring to art from the Renaissance or something -- ” he grins, folding his arms over his chest and shifting his weight -- “then I see it.”

Wait.

What?

Paul raises his eyebrows and grins back. “Hilarious.” Gabe swears he spots a blush sweep across his supervisor’s face. “So, do you know the dimensions of the frame you’re looking for?”

“The poster’s eighteen by twenty-four.”

“Well, I can tell you that frames about that size aren’t in stock at the moment. But they’re available to order online through our website if you’d like? I can order it for you right now.”

“That’d be great, thanks.”

“Can he use my discount?” Gabe asks.

“For course, kid,” Paul replies, typing on his keyboard. “He belongs under ‘Friends and Family,’ does he not?” Paul scrunches his eyebrows together in concentration, clicking the mouse a few times before addressing Javi, “So, Javi. Would you like a frame with or without a floating edge?”

“What’s a floating edge?” Javi asks.

Paul explains, “So, you’d have your picture -- or poster, in your case -- right in the center of the mat, which creates a border around the picture. Personally, I think it contrasts beautifully with the picture, especially if the mat is white and the frame is black. But the frame would have to be a little larger than the poster, so it might cost more.”

“You know what, let’s go for that,” Javi replies. “You seem to have a pretty good eye for beauty, and I --” Javi’s eyes sweep up and down Paul -- “like to think I do as well.” He leans on the counter.

Gabe’s jaw drops to the floor. Holy shit. Did a) Gabe just become the third wheel and b) when did his uncle have so much game?!

Paul’s eyes widen and he smiles back, amused. He shoots Javi a similar, sweeping glance. “I guess great minds do think alike.”

Help me, Gabe internally pleads to no higher power in particular.

Paul clears his throat. “So, um, you can just swipe your card there, and frame will arrive in store at about two days time. Unless you’d like it delivered to you instead?”

“I think I’ll just pick it up from here,” Javi responds as he swipes his credit card into the machine.

“Sounds good. Leave your phone number with us and we’ll let you know when your frame arrives,” Paul says. Gabe notes from the corner of his eye, the slight enthusiasm of his uncle as he jots down his number on a piece of paper and slides it over to Paul. “Well, I hope you enjoy your picture frame. You have a good day,” Paul says before turning to Gabe, “Need anything before I go on my break, kid?”

“I’m good,” Gabe replies.

“Okay, catch you later then.” Paul takes his leave with a wave of a hand.

Gabe turns to his uncle, about to say something when he notices Javi staring after Paul.

“You know,” Gabe begins, “there’s a Bed Bath and Beyond just down the block? I’m sure they have what you’re looking for. Why not just go there instead of waiting for two days to get your frame?”

Javi hums absentmindedly.

“Javi?”

Javi continues to stare.

“Hellooooo?”

Nothing.

“Hey Javi, I murdered a man in cold blood last night.”

“That’s nice, Gabe,” Javi mumbles.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “I know you like him, Javi.”

That finally seems to snap Javi out of it. “Uhhh, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Javi scoffs. “You’re crazy.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. Oh, this is gonna be fun, he can’t help but think. “So you totally didn’t just hit on my supervisor, Paul?”

Javi rolls his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” But a telltale flush across his cheeks indicates otherwise. “I was just being friendly.”

“Yeah, okay.” Gabe smirks. “I mean, I have his number if you want it?” Gabe offers. Javi rolls his eyes at him again. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You just gave your number to him.”

“So he could call me when my frame arrives, obviously.” Javi glares at him.

“Javi. Come on.” Gabe pats his uncle on the arm. “Let me help you out. I’m kind of the best wingman ever, don’t you know?”

Javi scoffs. “Oh really? Since when?”

“Practically since I was born!” Gabe objects. “I know that when I was like, four or five you’d bring me to the park so all the girls from your school would fawn over you!”

“I did end up dating the head cheerleader in my senior year,” Javi states, shrugging. “But that’s because of my charm and rugged good looks, not because of you.”

“Riiiiiight,” Gabe says sarcastically. “But just admit it: four-year-old me has definitely scored you dates.”

“Okay, you might have,” Javi admits, grinning.

“So are you going to let me wingman you or what?”

“There’s nothing to wingman, Gabe,” Javi replies. “I don’t have a crush on your supervisor, the way you totally don’t have a crush on Clementine.” Now it’s Javi’s turn to smirk.

Gabe raises his eyebrows in surprise, completely caught off guard. “Yeah totally,” he chokes out.

“So it’s not a problem or anything if we, I don’t know, go to the Gordons’ diner for lunch later today?” Javi asks in a suspiciously casual tone of voice.

“It’s not a problem.” Gabe forces a smile, teeth gritting. “At all.” You snake, he adds in his head as he restrains himself from openly glaring at Javi. Is this Game of Thrones?!

“Great,” Javi replies, his smile growing wider. “I’ll see you after your shift, then.”

Gabe still gets a card for Javi because he’s not a total asshole, alright? As he drives them to the Gordons’ diner, Gabe prays that Clementine isn’t working today.

And God does not answer this prayer either.

“Hey guys!” Clementine greets them as they enter the diner. She’s sporting an easy smile and an apron around her waist. A few curly strands of her hair escape the low bun she’s wearing today, gracefully framing her face. Gabe has to remind himself to look away. “What brings you here?”

“Gabe here is treating me out for lunch,” Javi answers before Gabe can get a chance to speak. “He didn’t have to, but he really insisted.” He places a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m lucky to have him as my nephew.”

“Heh,” is the most intelligent thing Gabe can come up with at the moment.

“That’s really sweet.” Clementine offers Gabe a smile that sends his heart racing. “You guys go ahead and find a seat, I’ll be with you shortly.”

Gabe and Javi find an empty booth and sit. “You see, Gabe? That’s wingmanning,” Javi says with a shit-eating grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Javi rolls his eyes and snorts. “Okay then.”

Clementine arrives with two menus and glasses of water. “Can I get you guys anything to drink while you look at the menu?”

“Coffee for me, please,” Gabe answers.

“With cream?” Clementine asks.

“Yes please,” Gabe replies. “I’m still not quite awake yet, to be honest.”

“Up early today?”

“Yup. Opening shift.”

“Ah.” Clementine nods. “Where do you work, by the way?”

“At Howe’s Hardware Store, the one near Main Street,” Gabe replies.

“Nice. And how about you, Javi?”

“Just some cold water would be fine,” Javi responds.

“Sounds good. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” Clementine walks away to retrieve their drinks.

“How’s your abuelo?” Javi asks. “You guys visited him the other day, right?”

Gabe nods. “Yeah, we did. He’s doing alright, I guess. We brought the box of tapes you gave me, and played a few games of dominoes with him. Pipo really seemed to enjoy himself while we were there.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Javi says, just as Clementine brings their drinks.

“Ready to order?” Clementine asks the two.

“Yeah. I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries,” Gabe replies.

“A cup of the chicken noodle soup for me, as well as the house salad,” Javi says.

“What kind of dressing would you like?” Clementine asks.

“Vinaigrette, but on the side, please.”

“Alrighty then,” Clementine says as she jots down their orders on a small notepad. “I’ll be right back with your food.” She takes her leave.

“Salad?” Gabe gawks at his uncle incredulously. “Really, Javi? We’re celebrating and you’re gonna eat salad?”

“You’re seventeen,” Javi remarks. “You’ve got the metabolism of a cheetah. You can practically eat anything you want and get away with it.” Javi points to himself as he says, “Not so much when you’re nearing thirty.”

“Wow, you’re old.”

Javi snorts before chuckling. “Just watch, kid. You’ll be thirty yourself before you even know it.”

“Hmm. No thanks,” Gabe replies, shaking his head. “I’ll take ‘Never Growing Up’ for $500, please.”

“But you grew up so fast, though,” Javi points out. “It only feels like yesterday that I was changing your diapers.”

“Dad said something like that to me last week.”

“Go figure. You’re graduating high school this year, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” Gabe nods.

“How’s your senior year going so far?” Javi asks.

“It’s not so bad,” Gabe replies. “I’m taking AP World History. Oh, and I also joined the History Bowl team.”

“Look at you, smartie pants.” Javi nudges at his arm from across the table. “I think that’s great, Gabe. I wish I was more studious when I was your age.”

“What did you do in your senior year?” Gabe questions. “Well, aside from dating the head cheerleader, that is.”

Javi chuckles. “Skipped class and played baseball,” Javi replies, shaking his head. “I’m surprised I even graduated, honestly.”

"Nice," Gabe remarks playfully. “So, uh, five years, right?” he asks.

“Five years,” Javi repeats. “God, I was a completely different person back then.”

“Is it weird that I sort of still remember the headlines you made?” Gabe briefly recalls the surges of pride -- and embarrassment -- he felt at seeing his uncle’s name plastered on newspapers and on the internet.

“The good headlines or the bad ones?” Javi asks.

“Both,” Gabe admits.

Javi chuckles. “No, it’s not weird at all. I admit, I’ve done plenty of newsworthy things. Both brilliant and stupid.” Javi shakes his head, sighing. Whether out of regret or reminiscence, Gabe is not so sure.

“Do you miss baseball?” Gabe asks quietly.

“Everyday,” Javi admits. “But I wouldn’t trade it for what I have now. I’ve taken responsibility for myself. I’m in control of my life. I’ve gotten better, and I’m continuing to get better.” His uncle meets his gaze with a wide smile. “I’m happy.”

Gabe smiles back. “I’m glad. By the way, do people still recognize you?”

“Not as much as before, actually,” Javi replies. “Must be the beard.”

“Wish I could grow one,” Gabe says, frowning as he rubs a hand over his own beardless face.

“Maybe one day,” Javi responds. “But your dad could never grow a beard, so I doubt it.” He laughs. “Sorry, bud.”

“Let me dream, okay?” Gabe chuckles.

“Just curious,” Javi begins, “but has your dad ever talked about… you know.” Javi pauses, finding the right words. “All the shenanigans I was up to before I started recovering?”

“Not really,” Gabe responds. “He only said that you gambled a lot and drank too much. Never really went into the details. He... also said to never be like you.” Gabe winces when the words leave his mouth.

Javi shrugs indifferently. “Well, he’s not wrong. Back then, if I wasn’t at the casino, I was at the bar.”

“Well, you got better,” Gabe points out, frowning. “That’s what matters now, right?”

Javi smiles. “I really appreciate it, Gabe. And as much as that means a lot,” Javi says, “your dad is right.”

“If you’re about to give me a ‘don’t drink’ or ‘don’t gamble’ lecture, I’ve probably heard it.” Gabe remarks playfully.

“I imagine your dad has told you countless of times.” Javi grins wryly. “But serious talk.” He clasps his hands together. “The reason why I did all that was -- well, I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back now…” Javi pauses, a hesitant look flashing across his features.

“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Gabe quietly reassures him.

Javi shakes his head. “It’s okay,” Javi replies. “I just wanted to say that, well, I didn’t like asking for help when things got hard. I refused to. Drinking and gambling… it was how I coped.” Javi sighs. “So, if you ever need help with anything, come talk to me, okay? I’m here for you, Gabe.”

Gabe nods. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Javi.”

Their food arrives shortly after, and they dig in. Gabe doesn’t realize how hungry he is until he takes a bite into his burger, savouring the melted cheese and crisp slices of red onion before practically inhaling his fries.

When they’re finished, Gabe pays for their meals (“Isn’t he so kind?” Javi says pointedly to Clementine, and wiggles his eyebrows at Gabe when she’s not looking. Gabe has half a mind to lunge at his uncle from across the table.)

Gabe drops Javi off at his apartment before he heads home.

“Working overtime today, mijo?” His dad asks when Gabe steps inside the house.

“No, I was just having lunch with Javi,” Gabe replies. “He’s five years sober today.”

“Oh.” His dad makes that mostly unreadable and slightly constipated face he always makes when they’re talking about Javi. But his voice is soft and sincere when he says, “That’s good to know. Tell him my congratulations.”

Why not tell him yourself? Gabe wants to say. “I’ll let him know,” he says instead before heading to his room.

Gabe crashes onto his bed, feeling his eyelids start to droop heavily (despite the four cups of coffee he’s had today) when his phone beeps.

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:12 PM): Hey, are you free tomorrow for a study session? Sarah and I will be at the diner. 12pm.

Gabe immediately bolts upright. Shit. Okay. Fuck. Is he free tomorrow at 12:00 PM? Gabe runs through the shape of tomorrow’s day in his head. No work. Visiting Pipo later in the evening. Will probably just be doing homework and playing video games.

Okay, so he’s free. But how does he reply? What does he say?! Okay is a little too much like k, and k is pretty much code for ‘I don’t care.’ But Gabe does care about History Bowl, but he doesn’t care so much to the point that it’s really weird? What about a thumbs up emoji? No, it’s practically the same as ‘k.’ A gif? Playful and friendly enough, but it could also be a little unclear...

Dammit. Stop overthinking, Garcia. Gabe types out a message and sends it before he can give himself another minute to mull over it.

Gabe Garcia (2:14 PM): Sounds good!! I’ll be there.

(He sends a gif of Keanu Reeves giving a thumbs up for good measure.)

Nailed it.

His phone beeps, signalling a reply from Clementine.

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:15 PM): Great. See you tomorrow.

Gabe wants to breathe a sigh of relief but finds himself staring at his screen, thumbs hovering over the keypad. He wants to say something more, but talking to girls has never really been his forte.

Fuck it. Seize the day. Gabe types out a reply before he can second guess himself.

Gabe Garcia (2:16 PM): You off work?

Seems simple enough.

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:17 PM): No, I’m on my break.

Gabe Garcia (2:17 PM): Cool

“Way to keep the conversation going, Gabe,” he mutters to himself. Just as Gabe is about to put down his phone, his phone beeps again.

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:18 PM): Your uncle seems really proud of you.

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:18 PM): Just something I noticed when you guys were here today

Gabe widens his eyes in surprise. Well. Okay then. Maybe Javi isn’t totally awful, after all...

Gabe Garcia (2:18 PM): Yeah, Javi and I are really close :)

Gabe Garcia (2:19 PM): He’s a really corny guy tbh but I put up with it since he’s family and all :p

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:19 PM): I know the feeling. Kenny makes the worst dad jokes but he’s the best so it’s ok :)

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:20 PM): Anyways, I need to get back to work. Talk to you later?

Gabe Garcia (2:20 PM): Yeah, talk to you later

Gabe Garcia (2:20 PM): Have fun at work!!

Clementine Fitzgerald (2:21 PM): Haha, I wish :)

Gabe switches his phone to silent mode, allowing himself a small smile before he curls up on his bed and falls into a nap.

#twdg #twdg fanfiction #twdg fanfic #The Walking Dead Game #twd game #telltale the walking dead #gabentine #Gabriel Garcia #clementine #Javier Garcia #David Garcia #Mariana Garcia #Duck #Lee Everett #High school AU #Chasing Waves #multi-chapter #8588 words

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