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I have tried, but I can't. The heart wants what it wants. And it wants Santiago Cortez. It always has, and always will. There hasn't been a man on this earth who can make my heart race like he does.
"Hey, Mia," he says with a small smile and then glares at me. "Why?"
"Why what?" I ask, playing dumb.
"Why do you have to stalk me? I’ve told you a million times to stay away unless it's a family thing, and I have no choice but to be there."
I feel the sting of his rejection, but like always, I let it slide.
"I'm not stalking you. We have the same business major. It's not uncommon we would have the same classes, Santi."
"On the same days and times, Elena? You expect me to believe the horse shit you are feeding me right now." He takes a deep breath like he is counting to ten. "You go to my games…"
"So do a lot of people."
"Since high school. Every single one. You cheer…"
"It's kind of the point," I point out.
"For me, and you wear my number."
"So.''
He pinches his nose. "Let me finish, Elena.''
I roll my eyes. "Fine."
"You wearmyjersey to all the games bought from the campus store… basketball and football with my number paintedon your face screamingmyname. You did the same thing in high school. Now...college. You show up to every single party. If I'm hanging out with the guys, you show up. You even show up when I'm racing, and you're not supposed to be there. You have movie night every Thursday with my mother at my house because––you know it's the only day I'm not allowed to go out and I have to be there. Do you know how weird that is?"
"Not really."
He scoffs. "Well, it is, Elena. It's crazy and obsessive. And still, you do it when I date other girls. It's annoying. I've told you how I feel about it," he drones on, pressing his head against the palms of his hand like he is getting a headache, and continues, "I've talked to my mother, your brother, my father, the guys, hell...I've told everyone, and nothing works." He raises his voice on the last part.
"How is it a big deal when I'm supporting you at your games? I love you, Santi. I've loved you since we were kids. I'll always love you. We are going to be married someday."
His nostrils flare, and my stomach turns. I know he will say something mean. I feel it.
"I don't love you, Elena." He glances at Mia. "I'm going to say it in front of you, and maybe since you're her cousin, you can make her understand." He looks back at me and glares. I know every word that comes next is a slap in my face. The kind that stings and leaves marks. The kind that splits open your heart and leaves a scar. "I'm going to repeat myself. I don't love you," he says, enunciating each word. I care about you because we were raised together. Our families are close. Whatever illusion our mother's made up; I promise it won't happen. I will not marry you, Elena. I don't love you like that. I don't have feelings for you. I never did, and I never will. Please, for the love of God, stop following me. I don't want you at my games. I don't want you showing up everywhere I go. The less I see you, the better."
"Fine," I say dejectedly. "But I won't stop having movie night with your mom."
He's upset.
He doesn't mean it. Santi gets in his mood and then apologizes. He does it all the time.
He looks up at the blue sky. "Fine. I don't care. I'll bring a date over that day so you don't get any ideas."
None of the girls he has dated he has taken seriously or met his parents.
I love Santi and always will. Nothing could stop me from loving him. I’ll wait until he’s ready.
I walk with Mia inside the campus bookstore. Mya and Xena have an early class so we are killing time before lunch.
"Change your classes. You still have time before the withdrawal date."
"What?" But we both know I heard what she had said.
Mia whirls and points behind me. "Go to the dean and change them, Elena."
