Page 14 of The Overdue Kiss

“Wait? Who’s Cliffy?”

“Oh, Cliffhangers. They call it Cliffys for short. It’s where you’re meeting Reese tomorrow.”

I glance down at my phone, remembering Reese’s friendly message out of the blue. If this would have happened in Golden or Denver, I would have definitely been a little weirded out, but here it’s part of the small-town charm.

“Do you know Reese?” I ask.

“I’ve run into her in passing, and she’s always been nice. Plus she knows everyone around town, so she’s a good friend to have to help you find volunteers for the library overhaul. Now, I’m your gal if you need to meet the teachers and school staff for your liaison project.”

“Oh, that reminds me. She made a strange comment about the assistant principal. Do you know anything about that?”

Julia scrunches up her nose, swallowing her bite. “Oh, Adam? He’s pretty full of himself. His family is one of the founding families, and they act like they’re royalty around here. I haven’t dealt with him too much, so you’re only getting what I’ve seen in staff meetings. Maybe he’s completely different outside of school.” She shrugs.

Suddenly my phone buzzes in rapid fire and starts to tap-dance across the coffee table.

“What on earth? Is there a state of emergency?” I say as I pick up the vibrating device.

Texts are pouring in from family members, demanding to know if I’m okay. Apparently, Michelle told Carlos’s sister who found out from Renaldo that I was in an accident in the mountains. The more I scroll, the longer the chain of who said what to whom. It’s like an old-school game of telephone as I trace everything back to the original source: Marco. He messaged Rafe about my engine failure and how he had to tow my bus off the mountain for me.

And he posted in the family group text.

“Holy guacamole,” I say, stealing Julia’s phrase.

My phone rings the special ringtone I set up for my Mamá so I don’t miss it. Julia recognizes it immediately and gestures for me to answer.

“Hello?”

A high-pitched frenzy of words tumbles at me in a mix of English and Spanish. My brain overheats trying to switch between the two. She’s so fast that I’m only catching a phrase here and there.

“Mami, slow down.”

“Slow? You expect me to speak rationally when I find out mi hija was in an accident?” She speeds up again, her words almost one long string without a breath. A mixture of worry, anger, and just plain gibberish. “Why didn’t you call me right away? We almost sent José to come look for you.”

“Mami,” I say, covering my forehead with my hand. “Please do not send Tío José or anyone else. I am fine.”

“Well, how would I know that if you don’t call and tell me? Imagine my surprise when I had to hear it from your tía Rita first!”

“I didn’t tell anyone because it was already handled. I caught a ride back to town?—‍”

“With who?”

“Afriend. He’s a teacher here in Rocosa.” It’s only a teeny-tiny lie, because if she knew the truth, I’d be guaranteed a lecture on the perils of hopping on a stranger’s bike.

She makes a clicking noise, somewhat pacified.

“I’m here with Julia, completely safe. You have to diffuse this. I’m still getting texts. If there was something wrong, you know I would have called and let you know. It was the mechanic who called Marco, not me.”

Her last harrumph is softer, and my muscles relax. Mamá is like a hot kettle. Once her steam has been released, she settles down.

“You know we worry about you not living in Denver anymore. And now you’re even further away. I don’t like it, mija.”

“It’s just a work trip. I’m driving back this weekend for your birthday.”

“¡Ay! Are you sure you can’t come sooner? I’ll make you some tamales. Hmm?” But she doesn’t stop with the tamales. She pulls out all the stops, rattling off a long list of dishes.

“She’s bribing me with food for a visit,” I whisper to Julia, who smiles.

“Tell her I said hola,” Julia says with her northern accent, making her sound as American as apple pie.

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