Page 56 of Wishing for La Luna
It’s because it’s tomorrow.
I push to my feet. I want to talk this out. I need someone to listen.
I grab my phone to call Dr. Jacinda. But I stop, because I don’t want her, or Tito, or anyone.
Except one person. The one that brought on this feeling because she did whatMamiwould have done on the day of the video shoot. She called me out andme cantó mis verdades. Yeah, she told me the truths I didn’t want to hear. She held me, distracted me, and sent people away when she sensed I needed it.
I need to get out of here.
I grab the keys to the car and head down. I yell at Tito that I’m going out.
He’s in front of me in the blink of an eye. “Where the fuck are you going by yourself?”
“A dar una vuelta.”
His mouth falls open. “To drive around? Are you nuts?”
“I need to get out of here,” I say. “I’m not going to do crazy shit. I just need some air.”
“Let me go with you. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I’ll be in the front without saying anything.” He’s already slipping his feet into his shoes by the door.
“Okay,” I say. It’s easier than arguing.
I drive myself this time, and Tito doesn’t ask where we’re going. He doesn’t even comment when we park outside Luna’s building.
We sit there in silence, with me feeling like an idiot.What am I doing here?I haven’t heard from her in a few hours. I haven’t even messaged her. Her living room light is off, and I’m sitting here like the creep she called me that day in the park. I feel so fucking stupid. I reach for the shifter to pull into drive, but Tito’s hand stops me.
I look at him.
“Call her,” he says. “You came all this way.”
“No, she’s probably busy or talking to somemacho.”
He scoffs. “The onlymachothat woman has got on her brain is you. Just like you’re not chasing any otherculobecause you’re stuck on her.”
“Shut up.”
He sighs. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Rio. The two of you are circling the wagon and living the dream.”
I frown. “What dream?”
“You get to play kissy face with the chick you like.”
“Veta pal carajo,”I tell him.
He outright laughs, but then his face goes all serious. “Call her. You need her.”
“I don’t need her.”
Fucking liar. You just don’t want to admit you do.
“Maybe not,” Tito says. “But it’s different with her. And I don’t have to tell you how many dudes want to trade places with you.”
“It’s not that…” I trail off because what am I about to say? That she’s a million more things than the body all these men want to fuck? That when she smiles, my anxiety ebbs away? That even though I want to pick up right where we left off in the dressing room, I’m happy when she doesn’t look like she wants to throw a brick at me? That sitting with her in my living room, talking about my vacations with my dad, and watching me geek-out over videos meant so much more?
I contemplate for a while, not ready to put myself out there, but he’s right.I need her.Maybe if I just hear her voice, I can go home and sleep.
If she doesn’t pick up, I’ll go home.
