Page 42 of Sombra
“Yeah, honey,” she says quietly. “Yeah.”
“And it gets worse. I, uh …” I can’t use the word “cheated.” That makes it too real. I don’t know any other word, though. “I had a fidelity problem.”
“What?”
“Tavo kissed me.”
“Who’s Tavo?”
“A hottie who lives here.”
She shrieks back at me. “A Spanish hottie kissed you! Named Tavo?No fucking way. What happened?”
My hands flap in the air. I don’t wantanyone to overhear this. I hit the volume button a million times, turning it down. “Shh! Yes. He didn’t know about Shane. I told him after. I feel so bad. I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“Slow down, and tell me what happened.”
With a voice that breaks a few times, I tell her about when Tavo answered the door of his little house all shirtless and tan with toned muscles and sleepy stubble.“Maggie. I was done for. Those dark, flashing eyes. The perfectly tousled hair.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh is right. When we walked in the olive orchard, he held my hand.” My next words are a whisper. “And he kissed me, and I’m so confused.”
“Okay …”
“Because even though I’m really attracted to him, I don’t think I should get involved with the first guy I meet in Spain.” ButI’m still tingling from the kiss, and I replay it once again.
“Maybe.” Maggie’s not saying more than that.
“I need to fix this first.”
There’s a long pause on the laptop, and I think that the Wi-Fi disconnected for a moment. But when she speaks, I can almost feel her smiling. “Tavo’s a good kisser?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’ve never, ever been kissed like that before.”
“Girl. You’re in so much trouble. Trouble with a capital T for Tavo.”
I let out a rueful laugh. “Exactly.”
“You’ve only ever kissed Shane.”
“This is true.”
I scrutinize the cork oak tree shading this room and rub my nose. When I let out my breath, my chest tightens and my throat thickens. “I want more out of life, Maggie.”
“And you deserve it.”
My response is a big sigh.
After talking with Maggie, I hang up with a promise to call her as soon as I can. I start replaying what happened—that kiss—with anxiety creeping up the back of my neck. Tavo didn’t know I have a boyfriend, but I knew. It was wrong, and I need to stop this before it gets any worse. I pin my arms to my sides.I’m still unavailable.I curl up into the fetal positionon my bed and hug my knees, hoping to get this all straightened out soon.
I passthe day with Mari Carmen in the kitchen, makinggambas al ajillo—shrimp sizzling in fried garlic and olive oil served in a terracotta dish—and staying away from Tavo, who’s out in the orchardso he’s easy to evade.
At dinner, Tavo’s grandfather jovially spends the entire time pointing to things on the table and making me say their name in Spanish. When I win a “muy bien” or a pat of his hand on my shoulder, it’s worth it.
I give a polite, “Hola,” to Tavo, who barely eats anything at dinner. He keeps rubbing his wrists and moving in his seat. While it’s a relief when dinner’sover, I end up with a pain in the back of my throat and tightness in my heart. I lie on my bed and pull out my laptop to Skype Shane again.
“How’s it going?” he asks. “How’s Spain?” I can hear Randy in the background yelling at the television.
