Page 86 of The Right Garza
They say the first thing you see when you’re about to die is the face of the one you love.
I’ve spent my whole life believing that the love of my life was Mama, but the face I see right now isn’t hers.
It’s Trenton Garza’s.
ThudThudThudThud
I smell him. I hear him. I feel him.
ThudThudThudThud
In my heart, under my skin, in my veins.
ThudThudThudThud
And, like an old film, random childhood memories dance across my mind’s eyes….
Lexi
It’s his fifteenth birthday.
He strolls through the front door of his house in basketball gear and with his sneakers hanging around his neck. He jumps and almost bolts right back through the door when we all scream, “Surprise!”
We’d done this exact routine less than two hours ago on his twin and his reaction was far less comical, so now we laugh wildly at him, and he hates it.
His scowl soon fades, though, as he’s hugged and kissed and patted on the back.
Monica brings out a huge cake with fifteen lit candles and his name written inLakerscolors.
He grabs my hand and asks me to blow out the candles with him. I tell him that’s weird but he pinches my nose again and again until I laughingly agree.
We count to three and blow them out together. His eyes close and his lips move silently as he makes a wish.
Everyone cheers afterward, and I grin up at him and ask, “What did you wish for, jerkface?”
He leans down to my ear, and whispers so only I can hear him, “You.”
I laugh and shove his shoulders, telling him, “You’re crazy.”
~
I’m picnicking atthe beach with the Garzas.
He and I are lying on our bellies in the sand.
Out in the water, Flavio Garza is grabbing Monica’s ass in front of everyone and kissing her all over her face while she giggles and halfheartedly tries to push him away. He’s always feeling her up and doesn’t care who sees.
“Your parents are gross,” I say.
“My parents are in love,” he corrects me.
“Same thing.” I flip onto my back and gaze up at the sunny blue sky. “I’ve decided I want to be a news anchor when I grow up.”
He laughs at me. “You change what you want to be every other month.”
“I won’t change it this time. You’ll see.” I turn my face from the sky to look at him. He’s already looking at me.He’s always looking at me. “What doyouwant to be when you grow up?”
His eyes close as if to think about it, but I know what his answer will be—professional basketball player.When his eyes open again and meet mine, he replies confidently, “Your husband.”
