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“It does not,” I protested, hearing the higher octave I was denying. “You’re imagining things.”
“Sure I am,” he replied dryly.
“Whatever. What do you want, Ricky? I have things to do.”
“I thought you said you two weren’t doing anything…” Pendejo. “Listen, Ari, I didn’t call to argue, just checking in. I know you’ve got your own plans out there, but I just want to be sure you’re…you’re thinking this through.”
My shoulders tensed as I met Gracie’s sympathetic gaze. Ricky loved me, no doubt, but he also felt like he had to step into the role of both older brother and father whenever he thought I was straying off course—his course. It was suffocating.
“Ricky, a little late to ask about that,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice so it wouldn’t cause a fight. “I’m already thousands of miles away.”
Gracie snorted before chiming in with her own two cents. “Ari’s doing great. She’s settling right in.”
“Right. And settling in involves what? Partying? Hooking up? Would Dad approve?”
That hit too close to home. I stiffened, feeling the surge of defensiveness rise. So much for trying to avoid a fight. “Ricky, I’m not a teenager anymore. You don’t need to check up on every decision I make.”
“Well, when you don’t call for weeks and then pick up sounding like you’re hiding a body…” His tone softened. “I worry about you.”
My stomach twisted, torn between frustration and a flicker of guilt. He didn’t understand why I’d moved out here or why I was chasing something that didn’t line up with the life our family expected. Mainly because his decisions were never questioned, and he didn’t have the same restrictions I had.
“Look,” I finally said, forcing calm into my voice. “I love you, but I’m tired of being treated like a child. Maybe it’s not what you’d pick for me, or what Dad would, but it’s my life. And I’m figuring it out.”
There was a pause, one that stretched long enough for me to feel the tension in the silence.
Gracie, sensing the strain, chimed in. “Primo, you gotta trust her. She’s doing great out here.”
Ricky’s sigh came through, softer this time. “Okay, okay. Just…be smart. That’s all I’m asking. Can you check in more often too? And if you need anything…”
“I know, I can call you,” I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the tension. “Thanks, Ricky.”
The call ended, but a strange weight settled over me. I sighed, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling, wondering if there would always be this tug-of-war between the life I wanted and the one my family imagined for me.
“It’s your life, Ari,” Gracie said gently, as if sensing my guilt. “You have a right to live it the way you want.”
“Maybe. But sometimes it feels like I’ll always be under the weight of their expectations,” I replied softly. “Like being happy and making them happy can’t exist at the same time.”
“Ow,” I yelped as Gracie whacked my arm—hard.
“Stop it.” Her voice was firm, her eyes blazing. “Your family loves you—they may not understand you, but they love you. You keep pursuing your life, Ariella, and they will fall in line. This is all new to them; you’re breaking cultural norms, and that means dealing with some fallout,” her eyes turned sad as she stood and walked toward our bathroom. I knew she was thinking about my tío.
I also knew she was right.
“Oh, and Ari?” She paused, looking at me from over her shoulder. “Letting someone in while you pursue your dreams isn’t a form of failure.” Before I could respond, she disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of the shower filled the silence.
What the hell was I supposed to do with that?
TWENTY
DALTON
WHEN YOU’RE STILL HOPING FOR WORDS OF AFFIRMATION FROM A TOXIC PARENT…
I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d expected when we’d agreed to this charade, but I’d thought I’d see more of Ari during the week.
Turned out, that wasn’t the case. Tuesday was the only day we rode together to work, and I didn’t even get to drive her back home.
I’d been hoping to learn more about her.