Page 3 of It Couldn't Be You
So ridiculous. So frustrating. How could he move on so smoothly from a moment like that? Like he’d light a match and then shake it out with one flick of his wrist, walking away grinning while I’m still choking on the smoke, wondering if I had imagined it all.
The guy thrilled me. But I completely and totally did not like Gabriel. I couldn’t. He was my best friend’s brother. I just really wished he would’ve freaking kissed me that day.
I thought this as I knocked on the door.
One
Jordan Boyfriend <3
Hey babe, text me when you’re leaving the Hernandezes’ house.
Jordan Boyfriend <3
If you leave early enough, maybe you could stop by my fam’s?
Me
I might be here a while! It’ll probably be too late to stop by. There is wine flowing tonight, and everyone’s here.
Jordan Boyfriend <3
Who is “everyone?”
There he was, standing in the doorway. His skin still caramel, but his dark curls longer, messier.
“Emma,” he said almost teasingly, a grin tugging at half of his face.
Katie had invited me over to the Hernandez house for an impromptu Christmas party with her family. Because in this big family with six siblings, there were four brothers and two sisters. Katie was the middle child, and Tanya was the oldest. The youngest, Ricky, had a new girlfriend, and I was called in to help assess. Katie didn’t trust the others to truly know how to evaluate the way she deemed necessary.
“Gabriel.” I cocked my head curiously.
“You’ve come to be merry with us?” he asked, moving to the side and gesturing for me to come inside.
“Of course, I can’t miss a Christmas party or Mama Linda’s Christmas tamales.” I stepped into the open concept entryway, which expanded to the left with a big living area with walls covered in family photos and plants in nearly every corner and a kitchen drawing me in with scents of cumin, garlic, and lime, or the right with the formal dining room in shades of red and green and the well-worn stairwell leading up to bedrooms and the loft.
I could see everyone, as usual, gathered in the living room and kitchen. We always turned left at this house.
“I hate to break it to you, but you might be a few days early for the tamales, Em,” he said, closing the door behind me.
“I know there are some tamales somewhere in that kitchen,” I said, “this close to Christmas.”
The Hernandez house could be described in two words—loud but also delicious. Linda was always cooking something up in the kitchen. There was always some stain on her shirt since she constantly forgot to put on an apron until midway through a recipe.
“I didn’t realize you were home,” I said, avoiding direct eye contact with Gabe.
“I always make it home for Christmas,” he said, stepping in closer to me. We were only a couple of days out from December 25. I don’t know why I hadn’t accounted for his eventual arrival.
“I guess I just haven’t seen you in a while,” I said awkwardly.
“So, you forgot about my existence?” His voice was low. This conversation was just for us.
“Of course not,” I said.
“What then? Katie messed up your plan of continued avoidance by not mentioning I came in a few days before Christmas?” His voice was guarded, but there was a tremor of hurt I could hear. I knew this tone well.
“Maybe if you showed up for more than just holidays, we’d actually get to see each other, and you wouldn’t be cooking up these little conspiracy theories,” I said a little more bitingly than I intended.
Before he could respond, his eldest sister was waddling over to me. The two of us stepped apart.
