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I want to argue that Cuba is not like Dex, but how do I know that for sure? I don't, I need to keep him at arm's length because I can't go through that again, and with Cuba, it might actually hurt.
So, I agree by nodding my head, no point in getting into my feelings with my mom when I can tell she is not impressed with Cuba. We go on to talk about dad and how busy he has been lately working on some case, he even had to cancel our Sunday dinner plans with promises of dinner on Monday. It doesn't bother me, because he usually is never like this, dad always makes time for me. What does bother me are my feelings for Cuba, and my confusion makes it worse.
Pushing Cuba far from my mind, I spend the rest of the day gardening with mom and sweating in the blazing sun. Although I needed this, I was ready to go home and avoid India as much as possible. She’s going to want to talk about last night, to ask if anything happened between Cuba and me. How can I answer that if I don’t even know what’s going on with us?
I managed to avoid India for at least two hours this morning since she wasn't home when I got there last night. Actually, Indi is barely ever home, my roommate and best friend is odd. Sometimes, I wonder where she really came from, because there are times when her light country accent slips, but I never say anything because when she's ready she'll tell me what planet she is really from.
That’s what I’m thinking as she snuggles next me in my bed as we pass the vape back and forth. It’s never too early to get high on a Sunday, especially with my mind running back to thoughts of Cuba at any chance. I inhale deeply in frustration because I have never had this problem. Sure, I liked my ex, he was tolerable, but I never thought about him this much, I don’t even remember our kisses. With Cuba I remember everything, the way his eyes narrow when he’s confused or trying to pick the right words to say, the way he winces when he knows he said something wrong, and the way he switches from hot to cold, because probably just like me, he doesn’t know how he’s feeling. I have tutored many students in the last two and half years, many of them good-looking athletes that are charming, and I never felt that instant connection until he was sitting there when I stepped through the door.
“So how was the trip to Cuba?” Indi takes the vape from my hand. “Is it as gorgeous as everyone says it is?”
I frown at the thought of him with other girls and I take the vape back and inhale. “I wouldn’t know, I’m still on the boat.” Thick smoke escapes from my open mouth.
“Like a speed boat?”
“No, I’m on a paddle boat, and I can still see the Miami shore.”
Indi starts coughing up smoke, laughing. “Oh my God,” she coughs out and tries to catch her breath. “Seriously though, do you want to visit Cuba?”
I turn to face her. “Hell yes, but it’s so complicated and I don’t need complicated.”
She nods, her eyebrows furring together. “I get it after Dex, that asshole is nowhere on the same level as Cuba.”
I nod quickly. “Like Dex is definitely a lowly commoner and Cuba is like royalty.”
Indi laughs. “You are such a nerd, but I love your face.”
I laugh too. “Same. We are so high.”
“Think it’s too early to order pizza?”
I inhale the vape deeply, the smoke burning the back of my throat. “No.”
India rolls off my bed. “Bring the vape to the living room, I’m going to order food.”
Rolling on my back, I grab my phone off the night-stand. I would have thought he would have at least text me once, but nothing. Why would he text me? He just likes to kiss me and throw mixed signals that I think about way too much.
Groaning, I roll out of bed only wearing a black tee shirt that has shrunk, showing my stomach, and a pair of my favorite boy shorts that have pink bows on them. I do my morning routine, and once I'm seated on our couch and pulling the fluffy white blanket over my legs, I scroll through Instagram then through Facebook. It's amazing to see what everyone has been doing with their life since high school, not that I talk to most of them anymore, but I like to silently to judge all the popular girls that were once my friends, before they went to Vegas instead of supporting me at my grandpa's funeral, but that's neither here nor there.
Indi comes from the hallway, she's now wearing leggings and a tank, her brown hair in a knot on top of her head. “The pizza is ordered and will be here in thirty. What should we binge watch today?” She flops next to me and turns the T.V. on.
Tossing my phone down, I watch as she puts on Netflix. “The Tudors.”
“No, we watched that last weekend. You are not slick.” She shoves me, “Nothing that has to do with history.”
“Everything has to do with history, that’s why it’s called history.” I roll my eyes. “Duh.”
“Well, you know what I mean.” Indi starts going through the new releases. “Narcos, it is. We haven’t seen season three.”
I fight a smile, I’m not going to remind her that Narcos is history too.
There’s a knock at the door and I look to Indi who is tapping away on her phone. “No way it’s been thirty minutes already.” I can’t be that high.
She takes a hit off the vape and shrugs. “It’s probably Patrick, he said he might come by.”
The knock comes again, and India doesn’t move. Fine. I throw my blanket off and stalk to the door throwing it open without looking through the peep hole, my eyes are way too heavy for that.
It’s not Patrick’s green eyes looking back at me, they’re hazel and those eyes are locked on my legs. Of course, I would open the door in my underwear. I mentally shoot myself.
