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I glanced at April to see how she reacted to my mom calling her a friend. Her shoulders stiffened slightly, her chest rising.
Ouch.
Mom added, “Even friends who got off to a rough start.” She winked at April. “It takes boys a while to learn, but they do eventually.”
April smiled back at my mom, her cheeks slightly pink. “He told you about that?”
Mom said, “No matter how old children get, they always need their mom.”
Mateo whined, “Mom, can we go toAbuelita’snow?”
Mom ruffled his hair, silky straight like Dad’s instead of curly like mine and Mom’s. “Yes, we can. You two have fun. And April, you’re welcome back any time, okay? We’ll treat you just like family.”
“Thank you,” April said, her voice almost a whisper.
Mom and Mateo walked back through the patio door, and I reached for the cups, pouring both of us some juice. When I looked up from the cups, I noticed April wipe at her eyes.
My gut clenched, and my muscles tightened, like I could fight whatever invisible force had caused her to cry. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded, looking up at me. Her hazel eyes were bright now, almost golden green. “I just hadn’t expected her to make this feel like home... after everything between us.”
“Mama De’s heart for kids is bigger than the ocean. And she’ll go full-blown mama bear against any adult who tries to cross one of us kids.”
“Yeah?” April sniffed.
“Last year, this agent hurt my sister’s feelings, and we called herla bruja,the witch,for an entire year.”
Her smile didn’t seem so forced this time. “It means a lot.”
I examined her for a moment. She hadn’t wanted me to study at her place. My mom bringing snacks brought her to actual tears. My stomach turned at the thought that she didn’t have a good homelife. But I didn’t know her well enough to ask—just well enough to know she’d never tell me if I did.
“Let’s get to it,” April said. “I think we can come up with a few talking points and then wing it from there.”
For the next half hour, we snacked and worked on the assignment. Amicably. April came up with a few good points and even told me good job on one of my ideas. It meant far more than it should have.
Then I set up my phone against the pitcher, and we filmed ourselves having the conversation.
It was the longest I’d ever looked at April without resorting to sneaking glances. Her eyes were the most interesting part of her, the way the colors starburst around her pupils. And then her lips. She bit her bottom lip when she was thinking, making the color deepen from light pink to a deep plum, and it took all I had not to reach up and free her abused bottom lip from her white teeth.
When we finished with the video, she flipped through the assignment, and I noticed three dark blue dots on her right hand, underneath the pinky knuckle. They were almost imperceptible, blending with the few freckles she had on her skin.
“What is that?” I asked, brushing the back of her hand.
Her skin was hot under mine, and she pulled back like I’d shocked her. Holding her hand in her other, she rolled it over, examining the dots, a small smile on her face. She pulled that bottom lip between her teeth again, and I stared.
“It was a bet with these kids at my last school. A stick-and-poke tattoo—they didn’t say where.”
“What did you win?”
“Twenty bucks—and a week of grounding.” She laughed slightly, still looking down at her hand. “Not for getting a tattoo, but for giving in to peer pressure.”
I chuckled at her little act of rebellion, the smile it brought to her lips. “Where was your last school?”
“Junction City, Kansas.”
“Kansas?”
She nodded. “My dad was stationed near there at Fort Riley.”
