Page 41 of Hooked
Chapter Nine
She methim on the corner of 7th and Main, wearing a pair of flowered Bermuda shorts, a comfortable and breezy orange top, and a bright blue hoodie. Pink canvas flats rounded out the look.
“Look at you.” Jeremy braked on the street. “You’re like a really cute ice-cream cone.”
Tayla checked him out. He was wearing—as promised—a pair of nicely worn jeans, a Captain America T-shirt, and black Chuck Taylors.
She walked to the curb, eye to eye with him. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” He hooked a finger through her belt loop and tugged. “And by ice-cream cone, I mean you look edible.”
“I know what you mean.” She allowed herself to be pulled and met his lips in a playful kiss. “You look nice too. Long day?”
“Not too bad. You?”
She put her wallet and phone in Emmie’s basket and hopped on the bike. “Long. Very long. And then my mother called, and that always becomes a thing.”
“Oh yeah?”
She had to smile. He was being so very casual even though she knew he was dying to ask. Jeremy had one of those families that reminded Tayla of the Waltons. Or the Bradys. Only not blended. He spoke of his parents lovingly. His sisters were actually his friends.
So weird.
“Yes, it becomes a thing because she wants to talk for an hour because she’s miserable and has no friends. You know where we’re going, right?”
They cruised east on Main. The sun was setting behind them, and the lampposts started to flicker on in the late-afternoon shadows. They rode past the familiar storefronts and into a more industrial section of Metlin Tayla hadn’t explored.
“Yep. Just follow me.” Jeremy frowned. “Why doesn’t your mom have any friends?”
“Because she’s a miserable person who needs to make everyone else miserable so she doesn’t feel bad about her life.” Tayla stopped at 9th Avenue and waited for the traffic light. “And she’s a functional alcoholic and has been for years. That doesn’t help.”
Jeremy pulled up beside her. “That’s sad.”
“Yeah. It is. But her problems aren’t mine and I have to set boundaries.” She started peddling when the light turned green. “According to my therapist.”
“Well then, you should do what the doctor ordered. It still makes me sad that you have to.”
“I stopped being sad a long time ago. So tell me about this legendary taco place. I think Emmie avoids it.”
“No idea why. Maybe she hasn’t been recently. Turn left up here.” Jeremy peddled forward and looked both ways before he turned left on 10th. “So the Marciano family are the owners. And when I was growing up, it was just a regular taco place, you know? Family restaurant. Kind of a hole-in-the-wall. Grandma and son cooking.” He turned right and Tayla followed him. “And then Raquel came back from college and took over. And Raquel? She has a sense of humor.”
Tayla spotted it from a block away. It was unmissable.
“It’s amazing!” She couldn’t keep the laugh inside. “How have I missed this?”
The exterior was a cinder block building typical of midcentury diners and drive-ins. The flat roof extended over a shaded area with metal-and-fiberglass picnic tables and a wide bar in front of a walk-up window. That’s where the typical stopped.
The entire place had been painted in purple and green. A cartoon mural featuring a mariachi band of little green men decorated the side of the restaurant facing the parking lot.
“There’s not much more than warehouses this far past 7th, so unless you know it’s here, it’s easy to miss.”
“Marcianos!” Tayla said. “Martian tacos. Holy shit, that’s awesome.”
“It’s a Metlin treasure.” Jeremy grinned. “Wait until you go inside.”
“Is that a crashed flying saucer on the other side?” She craned her neck. “This is the best.”
The place might have been in the middle of warehouses and auto shops, but it was obviously popular. Teenagers filled the picnic tables, and little kids ran around the grassy area by the flying saucer. Men and women speaking a mixture of Spanish and English glanced at them as they parked their bikes. Most were holding white paper boxes or bags.
