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“I only said yes so you wouldn’t pull the pact thing on me.” I return an eyebrow raise at him, with my annoyance increasing. I am not one to go off on someone when I’m mad; I usually keep it in. But right now, I’m tired and annoyed; those two feelings make me feel words I never say rising on my tongue.
Vio, you know how to keep self-control. It’s the only thing you’ve never had to practice.
“If we go out tonight, I promise I won’t bring up the pact for the next two days.” Xavier tries to negotiate.
How I would love to be comfortable for the rest of the week, but right now, I feel like I want to cry because everything hurts, and I’m tired beyond repair. Having to wake up early again to train tomorrow morning gives me a migraine just thinking about it.
“How long do you want to go out for?”
“We won’t be out past one, I promise.” Xavier’s eyes glint with hope.
If we leave by one, we’ll most likely be back by three. It’s a thirty-minute drive toLa Costerafrom here without traffic.
There will be traffic.
It’s a Saturday in December, kids are off from school, and families come here to celebrate Christmas around this time. Being in a tropical location allows Acapulco to have a year-round climate of humidity and sun.
Baby’O isn’t just a club for teenagers or people in their late and early twenties. Whole families go, and it will most likely be packed tonight. It’s nine o’clock, and my bed is already calling my name. But if I get ready now, we’ll be out of here by ten and get there at eleven. If we get there and it’s packed well, we leave.
Which I will do happily.
Xavier and Cleo are in front of me, hope flashing in their eyes, pleading their case. I feel like a mom because they won’t go if not without me.
It makes me feel like I have to go and I won’t be the buzzkill to their late-night plans. Cleo is behind Xavier with her hands clasped together, mouthing‘please’a million times. Of course Cleo doesn’t work out, and she didn’t have to run for three hours straight after a four-hour training session. I don’t know how Xavier is still standing up and enjoying life.
So I give in to my people-pleasing tendencies. “Okay, but I will only go if I don’t have to dance, and we will leave at one.” My tone is set in stone.
Cleo appears like she’s going to protest before Xavier stops the words about to come out of her mouth. “Okay, Miss Grumpy Pants, we’ll follow your terms.” He has a huge smile on his face. “Let’s set a game plan, everyone!” He calls out to Chanel, who I’m guessing is in her room.
Her door is open so she can hear Xavier’s shout. Seconds later, she walks out like she’s bored with her life. Our gazes follow her as she sits down on the couch next to me.
“Since all the family is here, this is our schedule for tonight.” His smile brightens (if that’s even possible) as he listens to himself speak. “It is currently nine p.m., meaning we will all be out of the house by ten. I know all you women have to splatter some paint on your faces and restlessly look for outfits, so I will respect your time and if it takes longer, I will be fine with it knowing it takes you a lot longer than my usual jump-in-the-shower routine. We will all meet back here at ten, if possible. I would appreciate it if we were all here by then so we could be at the club by eleven. We are on a tight schedule with Blondie’s terms, so put some fire under your asses and let’s go have a good time!” As Xavier finishes his monologue worthy of a coming-of-age movie, Cleo runs up the stairs all excitedly, and I see Chanel follow her disinterested.
I look up at Xavier. “What?”
“Milady, you seem to be in pain, and the only way I can see you enjoying this experience is if I remedy that,” he says with a posh British accent, but his already prominent Latin one prevents him from sounding like someone from England.
“Why are you talking like a nineteenth-century love interest from a Jane Austen book to movie adaptation?”
“Because it’s fun.” His shoulders go up nonchalantly.
“What exactly is your remedy?” I follow his whole British accent thing, deciding to follow his antics.
“It’s called icy hot, and my portable massage gun. Would you like to try it out?” He seems like he genuinely wants to make me feel better. He was pushing me to go out to Acapulco’s nightlife only ten minutes ago, and now he wants to care.
I sigh, then take his hand, giving in and hoping he’ll make the pain in my calves dissipate.
His hand grips mine firmly as I follow behind him. Xavier leads me up to his room, which is right next to mine. This used to be my mom’s room. Since my parents go through a ton of rough patches, they like to sleep in different beds just in case they can’t stand each other.
No wonder I have such a sad love life.
The room is still the way my mom left it the last time we were here. The white walls, bedsheets, and decor are untouched. But Xavier contrasts the very essence of the room with his color palette.
His chargers are all wrapped with colorful wire on the side of the bed, and his viral headphones sit on top of his laptop on the nightstand. Both match each other, with the orange, blue, and purple design, his number sitting directly on the logo.
He has a few books sitting on the bench at the end of the bed, looking as if they were well-loved. The covers are bent on the corners with a humid pattern left from what I can assume is his time on the beach. All the rooms have separate air conditioning vents, which can be controlled from the inside. The only place in the house that doesn’t have air conditioning on twenty-four seven is the living room. I’ve always loved to open the big sliding glass doors while we were inside; it’s as if I could still feel the ocean along with us. At this point, it has become a tradition.
“Lie down.” His back is turned to me while he riffles through his bedside drawer, and I can hear all the items moving around as he pushes them aside. I practically hop onto the bed, and my body melts into the soft plush comforter.
