Page 19 of Sweet Little Lies
A foreign sadness washes over me as I think about Lance and the friendship I have with him. No other boy has ever made my heart flutter like he does. Although I don’t have a ton of experience in the dating world, the ones I did go out with in high school were all Mexican. In fact, I lost my virginity to a kid named Bruno Mendez who was a year older than me in school. He took me to my Junior Prom and was a nice enough guy. My father loved him and was eager for me to continue that relationship.
But Bruno dumped me for an older girl named Serena a few weeks later and I figured it was just as well. I wasn’t interested in spending my time pining after boys because I was focused on studies and getting good grades to earn the much needed scholarships for college. This would be my only chance to break away – even a little bit – from the predestined life my family envisioned for me.
And then Alberto came into the picture and it was all my dad fixated on. He practically gave me away to Alberto when I turned eighteen two years ago – promising him my hand in marriage. My dad and I got into a huge argument after that night and things haven’t been the same between us since. I love my papi, and know he only wants what’s best for me and my future. But we don’t see eye-to-eye on what that future contains.
If I began dating Lance and brought him home to meet the family, it would cause more than a stir or hushed voices discussing it in the kitchen amongst relatives. They’d probably disown me. At least my dad would.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve kept my distance from Lance and have avoided starting anything up with him. While every cell in my body would love to be with him, I know if I give into his advances, I’ll be swept away. And my heart won’t stand a chance because there’s no future between us. Even if by some crazy chance he could love me and we start something together, we could never get married or be happy. Not if I wanted to remain connected with my family.
The whisper-soft tittering of the females in the room catches my attention and my ears perk back up, bringing my head back into the conversation.
“I think he met her in a bar. She’s probably a floozy.”
“He better be keep it in his pants and his hands to himself. If she got pregnant, it would absolutely kill his mother.”
“I just don’t see how they can work out. They are too different.”
Each of their thinly disguised negative remarks have my blood boiling and my anger seething beneath my skin. I want to scream…love is love,dammit! It doesn’t matter what skin color they have or who their parents are or where they met or what their ethnicity and culture is. It shouldn’t matter because if they are happy, that’s the only thing that should be considered.
But I don’t speak up. I keep it to myself because it won’t make a difference and won’t change their opinions on the subject. I just hope I never have to live through it personally.
“You’re very quiet today,quireda. Is everything okay?”
I stuff my mouth with one of the chiles curtidos that’s sitting in a bowl on the table and smile at my granny who has asked me the question.
“Mmm.Estoy bien. No worries here.” I lie with my mouth full because I’m not really fine, but I pretend to be for her sake.
Until there is cause for worry when my auntie Maria’s next comment to me has me stiffening in my chair. “Alberto is outside, Micaela. You should go see him. He’s been waiting for you to arrive.”
The spicy jalepeño nearly chokes me on the way down when she speaks his name. I expected that he’d be here today with the rest of the family. He’s a very, very distant cousin via marriage, so we’re not related at all, but he’s been coming to our family events for years. Before his own mother passed away. And he and my oldest brother, Carlos, are good friends and work together at his autobody shop, along with my father and brother, Mateo, so it’s not unusual for him to be here.
But that doesn’t mean I want to see him. He’s every reminder of how disconnected I am from my family and their wishes. It’s the reminder that as the youngest daughter, it’s my duty to carry on the family heritage and lineage. The reminder that my life really isn’t mine to choose no matter how much I want something –or someone– different.
Resigning myself to this fate, I slip back on the flip-flops that I’d removed under the table, grab another jalepeño and head toward the back door.
Just as I open it to step outside, my phone pings in my back pocket with a text notification.
Stopping halfway through the door, I pull it out and glance down to see who it’s from.
Lance: I know ur busy…but would you want to go to the lake w/me tomorrow afternoon before we study?
His question throws me off balance and I grab the doorframe to hold myself up. This sounds auspiciously like a date.
Me: Sorry. Can’t. Watching the kids after church.
Which isn’t a complete lie, just a slightly skewed version of the truth, since I don’t go to church often with my family anymore. But I do watch the kids while my mother and Therese work on Sunday afternoons cleaning.
But his next response leaves me without any formal excuses or way out.
Dammit.He’s sneaky.
Lance: Bring them with. It’ll be fun! Adios, amiga.
