Page 58 of Easy Out

“I see your boyfriend is here.” I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. He’s deflecting, and that is suspicious.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And you’re dodging my question.”

“I don’t know why. Carlos isn’t dumb enough to get mixed up in anything bad. He wouldn’t put himself at risk of getting locked up and taken away from me.”

“You’re right about that, Manny. Alright, go eat, and then I’ll introduce you to Hart’s mom.”

“He brought his mommy here? I have so much to teach this guy.” Poor Hart. He will have his hands full today with Manny.

People filter in and out as they usually do. I make sure to check in with as many of my neighbors as I can. I like to see if there is anything I can do to help them even though my resources are limited. Sometimes I feel helpful just giving them someone to talk to.

Hart is never far from my side. He spends a lot of time talking with Carlos and Manny, who haven’t ventured far from Sylvie since I introduced them. She is filling Manny’s spirit in ways his mother will never be able to. At least not with her current lifestyle.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out Manny is the person leaking information to Hart. He is the reason Hart knows where I live and all the details about Sunday dinner.

They must have chatted more than I realized during dance practice. I should be mad. However, I can’t be when I see the four of them together. Hart will be good for Carlos.

Will Hart also be good for me?

As the night continues, people slowly leave to go back to their homes with enough leftovers for tomorrow. No one leaves empty-handed after Sunday dinner.

“Can Manny and I stay here tonight?” Carlos asks once everyone else has left. I don’t like them staying here alone. If he’s asking, something must be going on at his house.

“Sure. Just promise me you’ll get Carter if you need something. And don’t open the door for anyone except for Carter or Emilio. Okay? And stay in my room with Manny. I don’t want him in a room by himself.”

“Anything else, cariño?” Carlos chuckles. I level Hart with a look. Carlos is fifteen. It’s not unusual for kids his age to be left alone around here. That doesn’t make it any easier for me to allow them to do it.

“Thanks, Lo. We’ll be safe.” Safer than they would be at his trailer is what he’s actually saying.

Carlos gets Manny ready for bed while we clean up my kitchen, pack up the rest of the food, and put the table away. I’ll have to make sure Carlos and Manny eat any leftovers the neighbors didn’t take. I don’t need food rotting in my fridge.

Carlos is standing in the hallway with his head down while Sylvie reads Manny a story. It breaks a part of me. A silent tear falls down my cheek. I want to go to him, but Hart pins me in place with his stare.

Sylvie hugs Carlos and cups his face the same way she did mine. They have a whispered conversation in Spanish. Hart reaches for my hand and holds it firmly.

"Mijo, I’m going to leave now. I’m assuming you will ride home with Lauren." Hart nods. “Good. Lauren, you'll come to Wednesday dinners now? No excuses. I know you work. You can come after. I need you to help me cook.”

“I’ll try. I would love to cook with you again.” That’s the truth. Being in the kitchen with Sylvie felt natural, like we were meant to work side by side. “Thank you so much for coming today and cooking for everyone. The food was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, mija. I will teach you all Hart’s favorites.” Why does she think I will need those recipes?

Once Sylvie leaves, Hart and I say goodbye to Carlos. I text Carter and Emilio to let them know the boys are staying here for the night. I ask if one of them can check on them in the morning.

Carter texts back immediately. I’m glad he can put his ego aside for the boys. I would do anything for Carlos and Manny.

The drive back to campus is quiet. Hart’s hand hasn’t moved from my thigh since he backed out of my driveway. I’ve been staring at his forearm, memorizing the intricate lines that cover his skin.

Hart parks in front of the library. We had already made plans to finish up the last bit of editing of our assignment tonight.

He opens the passenger door for me and grabs the bag at my feet. Hand in hand, we weave through the library past our usual table. I’m about to ask where he’s heading when he stops at a secluded nook in the back of the third floor. It’s one of the spaces we scoped out a few weeks ago.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he guides me into the cramped space. The room is dimly illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lighting and a streetlamp outside the small window.

Hart twirls a piece of my hair through his fingers.

“We are going to talk,” he says in a tone that sends a flutter through my insides. Excuses start rolling through my head.

It’s late.

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