Big Chicas Don't Cry(63)

“It is?” I smiled.

“It is.” He leaned over and kissed the tip.

I moved closer, and he turned on his back so I could snuggle in the crook of his arm. It was the happiest I’d been in days.

Maybe I should’ve been more conflicted about losing my virginity. Maybe if it hadn’t become more like a to-do item on a checklist, then I would’ve been more reflective about the whole experience.

Selena, for sure, was going to be all sorts of reflective once I told her. She could analyze enough for both of us.

Satisfied, I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy my moment of no regrets.





Chapter Thirty-Four


ERICA


“How about we go a little shorter?”

I looked up from my phone and stared at my mom. She was holding a pair of scissors in midair, and I instinctively moved my head away from them.

“How about no?” I answered back.

“Ay, Erica. Don’t you ever want to try something new?” She met my eyes in the reflection of her shop’s mirror. At least the scissors were a safe distance away now.

“Not really. Besides, you and I both know these curls are hopeless. All I need you to do is trim the chaos every six or eight weeks.”

She let out a long sigh and began combing and trimming. “I don’t understand. Selena has a new haircut or color every single time I see her. What are you so afraid of? Hair grows back. Color fades.”

“I’m not afraid of anything. Why change something if it works?”

So what if I was a creature of habit? There was nothing wrong with going with what you knew, what you were comfortable with. I liked what I liked. That didn’t mean I was scared of anything.

“Did you go visit Welita this morning?” I asked, changing the subject before she tried to convince me again to get highlights.

My mom nodded. “I took Abuela and Abuelo. Tía Olivia was already there, so we had to take turns going into her room.”

“How is she? I visited last weekend but haven’t had a chance to go back. By the time I get out of work, visiting hours are over.”

“She’s okay,” my mom said. She didn’t smile, and I recognized the worry in her eyes. “She’s still on oxygen. They’re not happy with her blood pressure, so it will probably be a while before she can come home.”

My throat knotted with dread. Every time it looked like Welita would be able to leave the hospital, she had another setback. I knew she hated not being in her own bed and not having the strength to do all the things she used to do. I hated it too. We all did.

“So, how’s work?” Now it was my mom’s turn to change the subject.

I shrugged. “It’s all right. We had a big meeting the other day, and the publisher is making some changes. He’s worried about the competition from the online news sites because they’ve beaten us a couple times on breaking stories. He said he wants us to work on more in-depth projects.”

“Does that mean you’ll get more money?”

“Chale,” I scoffed.

“Then what does it mean?”

“It means they’ll give us more than one day to work on these bigger articles. But we still have to put out at least two daily stories. That’s why I’ve been working so late.”

My mom started brushing off the loose hair from my shoulders and back. “So, basically, you’re doing extra work, but without extra money. Maybe it’s time to move on, Erica.”

“And go where? The News-Press is the only paper in town, Mom.”

“Other towns have other papers. Who says you have to stay local? Or what about getting a job at one of those news places on the internet?”

I’d never admit it to my coworkers, but I did subscribe to one of them. It was called Above the Fold. I even followed some of its reporters on Twitter. They were covering some really important topics, not just the regular old day-to-day crime blotter or city council agenda items. But I could never see myself working for such a place. I didn’t have the experience . . . or the talent.

Besides, I still liked working for the News-Press. I knew my beat, and I had lots of established sources. Why change something if it wasn’t broken, right? It might not have been a big metropolitan newspaper, but it had some good qualities.

Like being able to see Adrian almost every day.

Heat burned my cheeks at the thought of him. I glanced up to see if my mom had noticed. Luckily, she had her back turned and was talking to one of the other stylists. It didn’t seem like it. God, if she kept pushing me about work, there was a good chance I’d accidentally bring up Adrian. That topic was too dangerous right now. I needed to distract her so she’d stop with the questions.

“Hey, Mom,” I said when she turned around and I could see her face in the mirror again. “Today’s your lucky day. How about you give me a blowout?”



I had done some really stupid shit in my life.

But falling in love with my boss really had to be the stupidest.

At least I was pretty sure that’s what was happening.

That was the only explanation I had for why, a few hours later, my newly straightened hair and I were walking into the backyard of Adrian’s parents’ house to attend their anniversary party.

The evolution of these new feelings had happened slowly, under my usually observant radar. It started with calls to tell me about the documentary he’d just watched on Netflix. Adorable.