Page 17 of The Broposal

“Having kids is overrated anyway. Live your life. You’re young. You got time to figure it out.”

“Maybe toyou. Iwantto be a dad. I think I’d be good at it.”

“You would be good at it,” I admitted. Kenny would be a great dad. I saw how he was with my baby nephew, Mateo. Kenny wasn’t exactly stealth about his baby fever.

“Do you really never want kids?Never?” Kenny asked.

“Never. I don’t want to fuck a kid up like my mom did with me. And she only had me for five years.”

Kenny’s eyes widened, and I feared I might have said something wrong. “You never talk about your mom.”

I shrugged. How did the conversation keep getting back to me? “Anyway, you’ll be okay. Look at it like this. You’re finally free, right? You can do all the things Jackie never let you do. You’re the most yourself when y’all are broken up. Be free.”

I meant it, too. There were so many things Jackie made Kenny feel like shit about for doing or liking, or not doing or not liking. Kenny tried but failed at being this weird version of himself that was good enough for Jackie. More masculine, less expressive. But Kenny was free now, and I couldn’t have been happier for him.

Even if I was a little jealous. Sure, I wasn’t tied down by a relationship, but no matter which way you looked at it, I was never going to be free.

“I need a drink,” Kenny said as he rolled off my bed and walked toward my door, Luna following closely behind.

“Periwinkle…” I mumbled when he got to my doorway, still a bit suspicious of the foreign word. He paused and turned around, waiting for me to say something else. I glanced down at the color on my phone screen, then looked up at Kenny. “It suits you.”

Now that I was alone, there was something I wanted to do. I made a mental note to join Kenny drinking in a bit. Not yet, though. First, I had a letter to write.

Even though she was barely mentioned in our conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom. Those unsent letters were the most vulnerable I ever let myself be, but even in the letters, I peppered the sappy stuff with “lol”s and “lmao”s and whatnot. It always made the letters easier to write, less serious. Once I was finished, I read it one more time.

Dear Mami,

How’ve you been? I miss you. A lot.

I haven’t been doing too hot lol. Had another panic attack today. Kenny helped. He’s a real one. I don’t know what I’d do without him tbh. I wish you could meet him. He’d love that. But it’s not like we can visit each other, huh? It feels weird that he’s so important to me and you’ve never met.

My asshole boss almost called the cops today. If he did, I guess I could have gone to visit lmao.

Then again, maybe I’ll be going back soon enough.

Te quiero muchísimo,

Alejandro

This one was a shortie but a goodie. Just had to get the thoughts out of my brain.

I knew I should have gone out to drink with Kenny and keep him company after his breakup, but I was having a hard time bringing myself to do it. I preferred not to drink on bad days. That was usually my rule. Drink for fun, not to cope. I’d never had an addictive personality, but I didn’t want to remind myself too much of my mom. I knew her addiction wasn’t her fault, but it still sucked to think about. Besides, when I got drunk, the feelings always ended up pouring out, and I didn’t exactly want that.

So, I called it a night and curled up in bed, falling asleep the moment my head hit the pillow—

—only to wake up a couple of hours later when my door swung open. Kenny’s silhouette was illuminated by the hallway light behind him. Then the light was on.

“The hell, dude?” I squinted, pulling my blanket over my face to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. Kenny’s fumbling footsteps came closer, and before I knew it, he flopped down on my bed. Not next to me, but directly on top of me.

I laughed to myself as Kenny attempted to wrap his arms around my waist, but the blanket between us prevented his arms from going all the way around. Instead, he gave up and flopped his arms to his sides. Kenny was a pretty affectionate guy to begin with, but he was like a needy puppy when he was drunk. I’d gotten used to Kenny’s physical touch love language thing a long time ago, so the two of us had always been comfortable with this kind of thing. If anyone else lay on top of me like this, I’d have read into it, but with Kenny, I might as well have been a couch cushion—or Luna. If it didn’t mean anything with his pillow, it didn’t have to mean anything with me. He was just looking for cuddles and affection.

Unfortunately, affection wasn’t exactly my expertise. I reached over the blanket with one arm and patted him awkwardly on the head.

“I’m never gonna find someone else, am I?” Kenny’s slurred whine was slightly muffled by the blanket in between us before he pulled it down from my face.

With one look at him, I softened up real quick. Eyes and nose red, he’d clearly been drunk-crying over Jackie.

“You’ll find someone else. You’re a fuckin’ catch, bro.”

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