Page 49 of Raspados & Regret

I bet you like those best, and this is some reverse psychology bullshit.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

Reaching much?

You’re impossible, you know that?

Lalo.Con.Limón

And yet you’re still texting me.

For a second, I think I pushed him back into his shell because he doesn’t answer.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

Yeah, I guess I am.

He keeps doing this, throwing me a little truth into the middle of the jokes like he thinks I won’t notice if he tosses it fast enough. But I notice everything about him now.

That’s inconvenient.

I go back out to help with prep before someone calls a priest. The afternoon drips by, slow and sticky. We bottle syrups, prep fruit, and wash containers. I’m ordered to load supplies in the trailer for tomorrow while Mom hums along to old Juan Gabriel songs. Anita keeps side-eyeing me like I am a telenovela she plans to recap at dinner.

All the while, my phone stays in my pocket, and every buzz hits my thigh like a secret touch that I wish was real.

I’m home by six, showered, and standing in front of my closet wearing nothing but some bright orange boxer briefs and my glasses while I decide how stupid I’m willing to be tomorrow.

Very, apparently.

My room is small, but it’s mine. A fan rattles in the corner, and my bed sits half-made. A stack of clean clothes sits in the chair because folding is one thing; putting them away is another. On the dresser, my silver rings and earrings sit in a little ceramic dish shaped like a lime because Anita thought she was funny.

I pick up the red shorts and hold them up.

They are short.

Fine. They are very short, but they make my thighs look good, and I am not responsible for how other people process that information.

I toss them on the bed.

Then I grab a pair of black ones, the same ones from last weekend. Four-inch inseam. Worn soft. I stare at them, and my phone buzzes. As if by some kind of slut brujería, I already know who it is.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

u home?

Yep… alone in my room like a loser.

Lalo.Con.Limón

Yes. Are you?

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

I just walked in the door. I could kill for a carne asada burrito and a shower.

Lalo.Con.Limón

It does sound pretty good.