Page 1 of Crash & Burn

Part 1

Chapter 1

Mia

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Mateo barks into my ear, the sound ringing loud and clear over the hustle and bustle of Water Street on a Saturday night. My older brother doesn’t raise his voice often, aside from when he’s on stage hyping up a crowd.

Or, when I’ve done something to piss him off.

“Where. Are. You?” he bites out over the phone, taking a pause after each word. He’s trying to intimidate me, but I just punched a grown man in the face.

Intimidation doesn’t stand a chance against my adrenaline right now.

“Camila, I swear to—”

“Why are you calling me that?” I interrupt. “You’re not my dad. Don’t call me that.” Mateo may be the closest thing to a father, but I cannot stand when he uses it against me.

I hear Mateo’s scoff in my ear as I continue my walk towards my apartment. Lucky for me, I’m not like the dozens of people around me trying to find an Uber. It’s 1a.m., but you would think it was just after dinner with the number of people out.

My apartment is a few blocks away from the bar I just walked out of, and the June night is cool enough to subside the anger boiling just under my skin.

I came out tonight tocatch up withtwo of my college roommates because they have been asking me for weeks. I was tempted to decline again—for no reason other than how I’d rather be home—but they are some of the few friends I have left.

We graduated college a little over a year ago, and yet I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my life. I was hoping that seeingthem, asking whattheywere up to and how they were usingtheirmarketing degrees, would kick my ass into gear.

My marketing degree is being used as a full-time nanny because my brother didn’t want me go to school for photography like I wanted when I finished high school.

By the time the three of us were done with catching up on life—filling each other in on jobs, travels, and love—I was barely able to keep a smile on my face. After being reminded that I’ve been working the same job since freshman year of college, don’t have the money to travel, and my love life is an off-limits conversation piece, I wanted nothing more than to go home and forget the night happened.

The conversation did nothing but confirm that the last year and a half of college, where I was supposed to figure out what to do with my life, ended up being a blur of therapy sessions, funeral planning, and refusing to leave my bed.

It also confirmed that I’m much better off using my free time to stay at home and avoid everything that comes with leaving the comfort of my apartment.

I was lucky to finish college in the first place, but all I’m left with is a degree I can’t imagine putting to use and allthe plans for my life thrown out the window.

Who knew one night would change everything?

I was already on edge being in such a crowded space, feeling way too close to the people surrounding us by the high-top table we were standing at. The music I used to blast in my car, dorm, or anywhere with speakers now makes me anxious, and it didn’t help that my skin felt prickly with the shame of not sharing anything as exciting as my old roommates shared.

Then, I felt my mouth go dry, despite the drink in my hand, when I felt a hand slide down my back and across my backside. I felt the room close in on me, and all that came to my mind was that I needed to claw my way out.

I felt like a volcano about to explode, and that’s exactly what I did.

I punched him in the face without even thinking.Twice.

Madness erupted, and I slithered my way out of the waves of people, trying my best to avoid any more contact. I made my way out of the bar to the street, and I sent a text to my friends—with the hand that wasn’t throbbing—letting them know I was heading home.

“I’m the closest thing you have to one, so watch it,” Mateo replies, bringing me back to thepresentmoment. “You have three seconds to tell me where you are.”

It’s just like him to hold our ten-year age difference over my head.

“I’m twenty-three years old, Mateo. Don’t talk to me like a child.”

Our parents died in a car accident when I was eight, so I’ve lived life longer without them than with them. Mateo was eighteen at the time, and he became my legal guardian. He’s the one who had to deal with puberty, the sex talk, and all the teenage angst. I’m forever grateful that he stepped up, not having any other relatives that could take me in.

And he’s lucky I never gave him much trouble.

At least not until recently.

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