On Rotation(32)

Ricky smirked, then said something in Spanish. I didn’t catch any of it, but my heart still stuttered in my chest. He could have just told me my breath stank and I still would’ve thought it was sexy.

“Come on, you might just know the one phrase,” I said jokingly. “For real though, that’s cool. It’s not a given. I can’t speak Twi,” I admitted. “My parents kind of just forgot to teach me.”

Ricky nodded in understanding.

“I’m the do-over,” he said. “My dad isn’t fluent. They thought he’d pick up English faster if they didn’t teach him. Turns out the only thing he picked up was ‘asshole.’” His jaw clenched. “He’s the real reason Abuela goes to the doctor, though. He’s always in the hospital for dumb shit, and so she’s always there too. And one day, she figured that she should get herself checked out. I can thank him for that, I guess.”

“You’re angry,” I observed.

“Yeah, well.” Ricky shrugged. “He’s a leech. He’s been leeching their money, and now he’s leeching years off her life. The stress . . . it’s not good for her. And for what? It’s not like he’s going to change anytime soon.”

“Ricky,” I said, “he’s her son. Of course she’s going to worry about him.”

“Respectfully, Angie,” Ricky snapped, “I don’t think you can relate.”

I clamped my mouth shut. The sudden turn in conversation, and in his mood, gave me pause. Ricky let out an all-suffering sigh, then shifted the gear into reverse.

“Sorry,” he said. “Where am I taking you?”

Drop it, Angie, Nia’s voice said in my head, but I had never been known to listen.

“You’re being unfair,” I said. “To me, but especially to your grandma.”

Ricky shifted the gear back into park and turned bodily in his seat. “How am I being unfair—”

“It is not your job to decide whether or not your dad is worth saving,” I said. “Your job is to support her.” I thought about the boy in the trauma bay again, about his wailing mother. About how she probably wished her son could have grown up to be a middle-aged fuck-up instead of dead. “Do you think it helps with her stress to have you mad at her too? You really don’t think it’s making it worse?”

For several long seconds, I was convinced that Ricky was going to kick me out of his car. I knew I was out of line, but I didn’t care. He needed to hear it. What he really needed was a therapist, but I wasn’t his girlfriend or his sister or even really his friend, and he would have to have that conversation with someone who fit that description.

But then a smile broke out across his face, so wide and bright that I had to blink away.

“My god,” he said. “I have never met anyone like you. How are you like this?”

I squinted at him, suspicious.

“I feel like that isn’t a compliment.”

He shook his head vigorously.

“No, no, I promise it is,” he insisted. “You bust my balls every. Single. Time. I see you. You don’t even hesitate. Just bam! Truth.”

“That’s me, the Truth Fairy,” I said drolly.

“Your jokes, however, leave much to be desired,” he shot back. “Okay, fine. I’ll think about what you said. Jesus. But first, let’s get you home.”

As I spat out my address, it occurred to me that Ricky would now know where I lived. That we couldn’t claim to be strangers in that regard. When he settled to a stop in front of my apartment, I became acutely aware of the small space in the car, of the heaviness of potential. Did I hug him? Was it right to do that? If he’d been anyone else, I wouldn’t have thought about it. But with Ricky, it felt dangerous.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said instead. “The conversation wasn’t too bad either.”

“Of course,” he said. He shifted the gear into park and gave me a tender smile. “Have a good night. I’ll see you around, probably? Since we keep running into each other.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Or maybe it can be on purpose,” he said. “I usually volunteer on Saturdays. We can get lunch?”

I smirked, shaking my head. A professional trapeze artist, this one.

“How’s Camila?” I said instead, meeting his eyes in a challenge.

Ricky’s smile didn’t waver, and he didn’t look away.

“Don’t know,” he said in a deceptively cheerful tone. “She dumped me a couple weeks ago.” His voice took on a harder edge. “Why? Can’t get lunch with me unless I’m single? You only hang out with Markus when he’s got his girl with him?”

I looked down at my feet. Sure, I’d been goading him, but I’d expected him to balk, not announce the end of his relationship.

“Markus and I met in our college anime club,” I said. “You and I met because you decided to hit on me in a garden.” A car squeezed slowly past us in the narrow city street, and we both watched it pass through squinted eyes. “It’s different.”

Ricky’s hands hadn’t dropped from the steering wheel, and now they squeezed, the leather squeaking audibly under his tightening grip.

“I didn’t . . .” he said. Then he bit his lip. “Look. I was drawn to you. I don’t know why.”