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Ahot hand covers mine.WhenImeetTy’sdark gaze overshadowed by his curly hair flopped to the side of his face, his expression is as serious asI’veever seen it, even whenItold himIwas moving back home. “We’llsee about that.”
Chapter23
“Straight From the Barrio (210)”
–Upon a Burning Body
Festivelightsglitter over theSanAntonioRiver.Colorfulflags sway in the breeze that cools this hellaciously hot city a few degrees.Thestem of the margarita glass in my hand is cold, but it can’t touch the heat of my temper.
Despitethe two days sinceIlast attended practice, all signs point to no stopping for my sour mood.
BetweenAdrian’sviral porno with his ex-girlfriend and me having to practice “Dawn” over and over in time for the festival this weekend,Ineed a constant flow of margaritas to cool the flames that constantly lick the surface.
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Don’tcheck out on me yet.Youcan tell me if you’re bored.”
Ihold up my glass. “I’mnever bored whenI’vegot a margarita in my hand.”
“What’son your mind, then?You’vebeen quiet since you got back from practice the other day.”
Myhead slowly shakes. “Idon’t know.Justanxious about the festival and everything that’s changed.”
“Changeis never easy,” he says.Aftera long moment, he adds, “Ifthis is really because of that leaked video—”
“Don’tbring it up,”Igroan.Themere mention of it has the point-of-view image ofAdrianfucking her on her back playing behind my eyelids, the annoyingly high-pitched mewls of a desperate-to-impress groupie ringing in my ears. “Norma’sjust an extra vindictive ex-girlfriend.”
“Youknow that’s how it’s always gonna be with him, right?Anothergroupie, another leaked video.”
I’llletTythink that—maybe it’s best he doesn’t know how obsessedAdrianis with me. “Howis this having fun when you insist on talking about problem number one in my life?”
“Problemnumber one, huh?”Hisfingertips tap the table, glaring at it for a long moment. “Wonderwhy she’s so vindictive.”
“Adrian’sknown for getting around with groupies.He’sa heartbreaker.”
“Andyou’re known for getting around with theRamostwins.”
Igulp the remainder of my drink. “Whydon’t you tell me how you really feel.”
Tyleans over the table with an intense stare. “Steph, seein’ you like this when you were havin’ the time of your life and thriving back inAtlanta…Ihate it.”
Laughtercuts through the growing tension between us, the sounds of theRiverWalkpiercing the glittering night all around.
Iset my empty margarita glass down. “Youknow this totally isn’t the taste ofSanAntonioyou should be having, right?”
Tytips his head. “Whatd’you mean?What’smoreSanAntoniothan being smack dab in the middle of the city on theRiverWalk?”
Igrab his hand and rise from my seat. “Comeon—I’llshow you.”
* * *
Abrown bag crinkles in my hands.Iceclatters in two white foam cups inTy’sas we stride through a well-lit park.Thegazebo holds a loud mariachi performing for a small crowd gathered around.
“Ifyou want creepy,”Istart, slowing down near a bench, “thenMilamParkis the place to be.Well, one of many places.Okay,SanAntonioas a whole is pretty creepy.”
Ty’slips curl as we both perch on the bench. “What’sso spooky about this park?”
