Page 81 of Through My Window
“Hey, what are you doing?” Samy asks, and it sounds like she’s eating something.
“I’m on my way home. Why?”
“I thought you were still at Marco’s. I left some things there the other day. I was going to ask you to bring them to me.”
“I’ve already left.”
Samy sighs on the other end of the line.
“Okay, are we still on for the movie today?” I think I see Raquel tense up next to me, but I attribute it to my imagination.
“Sure, I’ll pick you up at seven,” I confirm.
“See you later, cutie,” she says before hanging up. She’s always called me that.
Silence fills the car, and I curse the call for ruining the good vibe we had built.
“Who was it?” Raquel’s voice is serious.
“Samy.”
“Hmmm, right.” Her hands again twisting in her lap. “Are you going out today?”
I nod, stopping at a traffic light.
“Yeah, we’re going to the movies with the group.”
I take advantage of the traffic light to look at her, but she doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are fixed on the window next to her, and she presses her lips together. She’s back to being awkward with me, and I don’t like it. My thumb taps the steering wheel lightly as I wait for the light to turn green, and when it does, I take one last glance at the girl beside me.
Look at me, Raquel, smile at me, show me that everything is all right.
But she doesn’t and that stresses me out. I don’t want to screw up again, but apparently that’s something that comes naturally to me.
“I have plans too,” she says suddenly, in a strange tone. Did it bother her that I’m meeting my friends? She’s going out too.
What if it’s with that friend of hers?
Raquel looks at me out of the corner of her eye, and I realize that I’ve been silent for a while, and she’s waiting for a reply. But asking her who she’s meeting seems worse than keeping quiet. I don’t know if telling her that I trust her would make it better or worse.
As we park in front of her friend’s house, she barely looks at me as she gets out of the car.
No, this is not right.
Concerned, I get out and follow her.
“Raquel.”
She doesn’t turn around.
“Raquel.” I step in front of her. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” But her eyes dodge mine: she’s lying.
“I don’t understand you. Did I do something wrong?”
“Just forget it, Ares.” Her tone is cold now, and it terrifies me.
“Raquel, look at me.” She does, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s defensive and I have no fucking idea why. I thought that everything was going well and that last night I showed her how much I care. “I’m trying, okay? I’m a mess, but I’m trying.”
