The You I've Never Known(82)



I’ll get you some posole.

The bowl of spicy pork-and-hominy stew satisfies at least one of the hollow spaces.

I hope Monica can fill the others.





Post Posole


I thank Mrs. Torres for the stew, Mr. Torres for his hospitality, and Carolina for offering to give up her bed to me.

It’s okay. I like sleeping on the couch, especially with the Christmas lights on.

Your head looks better.

“Does it?” I reach up, explore the bump, which does feel

smaller. “Ice is magic, I guess.

Hey, maybe that’s where

Santa’s magic comes from—

all the ice at the North Pole.”

Carolina rolls her eyes.

I stopped believing in Santa when Roberto got an iPod instead of a lump of coal.

Smart kid. Amazing family.

Intact family, and that in

itself makes them amazing.

“I have to be up early for work in the morning, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go chill.

Monica, you coming with?”





She Seems Almost Reluctant


And that scares the crap out of me.

What if

she’s tired of me?

What if

she’s sick of me?

What if

she’s done with me?

In this moment, I’m in desperate need of her.

I’ve never had a friend as close as her.

I’ve never touched someone like I’ve touched her.

I’ll never love anyone like I love her.





At Least I Manage


To segue from me to her,

though I guess in reality

it’s still mostly about me.

Is that bad, considering

the kind of day I’ve had?

Reluctant or not, she escorts me to the room she shares

with Carolina. Monica’s family lives simply in a plain three-bedroom home that’s always welcoming and clean, despite the number of people living here, and the fact that both of her parents work, and

her mom maintains two jobs.

The weird thing is, no matter how hard they labor, they’re steadfastly cheerful. Must be what it’s like when love fuels a family dynamic. “You’re lucky.”

Monica flops down on her bed.

What makes you say that?

I sit on Carolina’s bed, cross-legged. “I’m jealous of the way everyone in your house cares about each other. It’s so weird.”





Laughter


Puddles in her mouth,

warm and rich as caramel.

I want to taste it. Savor it.

We have plenty of arguments around here, that’s for sure.

But yeah, we love each other.

“Do you think that would

change if they find out about . . .

you know, you and me?”

She stops laughing. No lo sé.

I’m sure they’d still love me, but no creo que habían aceptan.

“But if they love you, wouldn’t they have to accept it? What about after high school? At some point, will you come out?” Obviously

it’s something she’s considered.

Still, she stays quiet for a few.

No lo sé. But I’ve got lots of time to decide if, how, and when to tell.

For now, es nuestro secreto, ?no?

It’s our secret, yes, and one I’d never reveal without her explicit consent. Tonight is a bad night to consider keeping secrets, however, especially one as big as this. But it’s not my place to out her. Instead, I’ll come clean and cop to one of my own. But

how best to approach the subject?

“Want to hear some unexpected

news? Or gossip? Or whatever?

Gabe and Hillary are going out.”

She cocks her head, looks at me as if I must be lying. What? No way.

I just saw the two of you . . .

I jump from Carolina’s bed onto Monica’s. “Way. What you just saw was us confirming we’re friends but not friends with privileges.

I still think he’s hot, by the way, but not enough to sleep with him.”

Go on. Go on. Don’t chicken out.

“Sleep with him again. Because we did have sex a couple of times.”

I thought so. Did you like it?

Not what I expected, but then

Monica often surprises me.





How Do I Answer?


Truth, remember? Truth.

“Okay, I’m going to be honest here, because this is a good day for coming clean.

I can’t say I’ll never lie again, but it will be a very long time.”

I scoot closer, stroke her arm gently, note

the knotting of her muscles and the fact that her eyes refuse to meet mine.

“Look at me, novia.”

I rest the back of my hand under her chin, tilt it up so she has no choice.

“I did like having sex with Gabe. But it’s not the same as making love with you. I’ve come to the conclusion that I enjoy the physical act, and I refuse to feel guilty about that. But it’s real connection I crave, not just body part to body part, but heart to heart.

No amo a Gabe, te amo.”





I Don’t Love Gabe

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