Page 39 of Mutual Discord

To my great relief, my parents seemed to remember Caitlin and Alex were present and quickly nodded.

With a Sagittarian-like tenacity, I forced the conversation away from my unemployment and to Caitlin’s humanities speech and the sights and sounds we caught at homecoming.

And even while I bullied myself to smile and laugh as I recounted the events of the day, I felt Alex’s steady gaze on me…but I didn’t dare meet it.

Chapter Eleven

The trip to the airport the following morning was…uncomfortable.

When Caitlin and Alex had left my parents’ house the night before, my friend had apologized profusely, her blue eyes red-rimmed and glassy.

“I don’t know why I said anything.” Caitlin smacked her forehead. “It just came out.”

Unsure of what to say and still reeling from the fallout of her disclosure, I held my tongue. When Caitlin reached out to hug me, I let her. As her shoulders shook with her tears, I patted her on the back, murmuring nonsense words I don’t remember. Somehow I wasn’t surprised to find myself comforting Caitlin when she had wronged me.

So when I pulled up to the curb outside the airport terminal, I braced myself for more of her apologies.

As I turned to her in the passenger seat, Caitlin grasped my hand. “I’m sorry I ruined the weekend.”

“You didn’t ruin the weekend,” I replied automatically. “My parents and I are okay. We’ll always be okay.”

“You’re sure?” Caitlin asked, squeezing my fingers.

I cocked my head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” I steadfastly ignored how Alex shifted in the back seat.

“Okay.” Caitlin swallowed, staring down at our clasped hands. “When will I get to see you again?”

“That depends on your schedule.” I raised a palm. “What’s it like over the holidays?”

Caitlin mashed her lips together. “My parents want me to visit for Thanksgiving, and I have some events in the city for the holidays. But I’ll let you know.”

Her parents probably want to meet Alex. I viciously pushed away the thought. “I’ll be around,” I said instead, shrugging.

Alex grabbed Caitlin’s suitcase from the trunk while I hugged my friend on the sidewalk.

“Text or FaceTime when you can,” I murmured into her hair.

“I will.” Caitlin stepped back, swiping her fingers under her eyes. “I love you, and I’m sorry again.”

“I love you, too.” I watched as she turned to Alex with a smile as he set her suitcase next to her feet. Not wanting to witness their goodbye, I spun on my heel and waved at Caitlin over my shoulder. “Text me when you land.”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, I picked up my phone so I’d have something to focus on. Something other than the couple just outside my car. Mamí had sent a text. It was short and to the point.

Mamí: Drive safely, mi hijita. I love you mucho.

Our long discussion the night before had done much to repair the cracks in our relationship, and I was thankful that my parents weren’t ones to hold grudges. They took too much effort, as Papí often said.

The passenger door opened and Alex slid inside, pushing back the seat to make room for his long legs. I looked past him through the window in time to see Caitlin’s blond head disappear inside the terminal, and my shoulders sank. It wasn’t uncommon for me to feel a sense of melancholy when visits with Caitlin were over, but my feelings were different this time. There was still sadness, but there were also hints of bitterness and anger that I didn’t like. Pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, I focused on the road.

Neither Alex nor I uttered a word until we were on Interstate 10. As we whipped by the jagged Tucson Mountains, Alex cleared his throat.

“It was a fun weekend.”

“I think a better word would be eventful.”

From my periphery, I saw Alex glance at me. “Why can’t it be both?”

“Fair point.” A long sigh fluttered my lips. “I’m sorry dinner last night was such a disaster.”