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"He likes Barrio girls," I correct.
"Does he take Barrio girls to dinner nine times in three weeks?"
"No, he fucks them and shows them a good time," I deadpan.
"Maybe he wants you to get over his brother. If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?"
The three weeks I have kept my distance have been a rollercoaster of emotions. I've started writing about my feelings for Santi. I drown in my homework and watch movies in my room. My brother Xavier walks in sometimes, telling me he bought me a pack of expensive razors so I don't cut myself shaving. I thanked him and waited until he shut my bedroom door to let out a nervous breath. The only time I feel like I can breathe is when I'm with Maxim in the east––until tonight.
"Go ahead. Why wouldn't I tell you, we're family."
"Have you fucked Santiago?"
It feels like the air in the car is suddenly hot.No one has ever asked if I slept with Santiago. I thought they all knew the truth. That it was obvious because of the way he complained. I'll never get over Santiago. I will always love him. I have for so long, but it doesn't mean I have to stay in love with him.
"No. I haven't. He never…"
"Then stop feeling guilty and give someone else a chance. You don't owe anyone shit. You took care of the family duty crap. You're free to date," she says, "to fuck," she adds with a smirk.
She is right. Not that I will fuck whoever, but she has a point. I shouldn't feel guilty.
"It doesn't mean I fuck the first guy that pays me any attention."
The car stops on the curb by my car.
"I know, but I'm tired of seeing you mope. I get that staying away from Santiago is the best thing to do, but remember, not all of us feel the same way he does." She pauses. "Call me when you get home."
"I will. Thanks for the ride." I open the door.
"Hey, Elena?"
I turn around. "Yeah?"
"I wanted you to know… you're not the only one moping."
A sense of unease washes over me when I get in my car. I fire it up and look at the front porch noticing four of the guys smoking and shooting the shit. One of them glances this way, waves at me, turns around and laughs.
Annoyed, I get out of the car and walk over. Hey!" The asshole that laughed turns around, and the other three give me a once over. "What the fuck is so funny, eh?"
He flicks the cigarette he is holding and smiles at me. "Do you always get mad when a guy waves at you?"
"No, I get mad when someone laughs at me and thinks I'm somepinche pendeja."
"I don't want any trouble." He hesitates, looks at the other three guys, and back. "I wasn't trying to disrespect you."
"Why were you laughing at me?"
"I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at the hard time you're giving Maxim."
"What are you talking about?"
"Out of respect, that is all I'm going to say. We didn't mean anything by it. I don't want any trouble," he says honestly.
I remember what Maxim said earlier: I wouldn't put it past him if he would kill them.
I'm pissed off at myself for running like a jilted girlfriend when there is nothing between Maxim and me.But the bitch was in my seat.Even if I had gone back to the table, I had no right to be a bitch about it when she was his…whatever.
I catch myself. I’m overreacting.
