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“You never acted like anything was wrong. I figured you’d gotten too cool for me. You had it all together, and I was the mess who wasn’t ready to be a teenager.”
“Nope. I was definitely the mess.” I sighed.
“How did it go at your dad’s?”
“Much better. He needed to know how much we needed him. And when it went from a temporary thing to my dad petitioning to change their custody agreement, Mom finally woke up to what was happening. My dad never talked badly about her. She didn’t want her second marriage to fail. So, she ignored all the things my stepdad did for a long time. Until she couldn’t ignore them anymore.”
Carmen gave my arm a light squeeze. “I wish you’d told me.”
“I tried calling a couple of times, later on. But I think your number had changed.”
“No. I blocked you.”
“Ah. Only what I deserved, considering I blocked your number right after I told you our friendship was stupid. I never saw your responses. I’m sorry.”
“Small favors.” Carmen groaned. “I’m glad you didn’t see them. I begged. A lot. And then I got angry.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I wished my words had more power, but they couldn’t rewrite the past, only soften it.
“I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you for that part. But let’s jump to last year.” Carmen sat up straighter. “You walk into a restaurant. You see me.”
I just about trip over my own feet.
“When did you know it was me?” she asked.
“I suspected right away, but it wasn’t until you said your name that I knew for sure. And then I panicked. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, former friend. Remember the jerk pen pal who ghosted you?’”
“That would have been a good start.”
“Yeah, but I could tell you remembered me, and you were not over it. So, I took the coward’s way out by waiting and asking Sadie for your number, hoping we could talk in private. When she said you didn’t want me to have it, I don’t know. I figured I should back off. I’d just gotten out of a serious relationship that messed with my head, and anyways, I wasn’t going to force an apology on you.” I shrugged. “Even though, that’s pretty much what I’m doing now.”
“I’m glad you did. I would have been too stubborn to listen any other way. But don’t tell Maria she did a good thing. She’s a terrible gloater.”
“I’ll bet.” I turned and looked at Carmen, and our gazes held. She’d forgiven me. Just like that. I couldn’t believe it. She was so amazing. And so incredibly pretty.
My gaze dropped to her lips without really thinking about it, and I saw the moment she realized it. We were not dumb kids anymore. I was a guy she’d snuggled up next to in her tiny casita. One she was holding onto quite firmly.
She slid away from me and clasped her hands together in her lap. “Oh, shoot. I promised to feed you. What’s your opinion on leftover enchiladas?”
“I’m a fan.”
“Well good, because that’s what I have.”
She headed into the kitchen and started pulling out food and plates, making enough noise to wake the dead, like every clang was a reminder we were doing normal stuff in here and nothing else was going on.
“Carmen.” I ran my hands over my knees. What we had here felt like fragile friendship, the kind that might shatter if I didn’t tread carefully.
“What?” She turned and stared at me, playing with the ends of her cardigan.
It was her security blanket, I realized. A cute, wearable security blanket. It was so her, it made me smile before I turned serious. Security blankets were for protection, and I hated the thought of her needing protection from me. “Do you want me to leave? You don’t have to feed me, even if you promised.”
Her hesitation was answer enough, and I got up and pulled my jacket on, trying not to feel crushed. Maybe we could try again another time. Like, when we were eighty, and my libido wouldn’t be an issue. Nah, I’d probably still be looking at her like she might set me on fire at any moment. And now I had Zipper song lyrics stuck in my head.Put me out. Put me out.
“Isaac, stop. Of course, I don’t want you to leave.” Carmen hurried over, reaching up on her tip toes and tugging my jacket from off of my shoulders before throwing it down on the couch.
Okay then. Apparently, I was staying.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
