Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(66)



Ares shakes his head. “I’m driving, so I’m not drinking.”

I’m surprised by the seriousness and maturity of his tone, but I’m pleased too.

Marco snorts. “What a killjoy. We would have come by taxi if driving meant you weren’t going to drink.”

Ares slows down on a crowded street. It seems to be busy tonight.

“I don’t like taxis.”

I raise an eyebrow. Oh, the rich guy doesn’t like cabs. I can’t even afford to take a taxi! The bus is my only solution. I don’t even want to imagine what Ares thinks of buses. I’m reminded of the difference between the way we were raised, and how opposite our daily lives are. Our house is one of the last old constructions from the eighties in the neighborhood. The rest of the houses are new customized constructions, Ares’s place included. Mom said that when she moved here almost two decades ago, the Hidalgos’ house was still being built. She was lucky to get a place before the prices skyrocketed.

Marco interrupts my thoughts again. “What about you, Raquel? What do you want to drink?”

My eyes go to Ares, who is still focused on the road in front of us. I can feel Samy’s eyes on me. “Hey, well, I . . . vodka?”

“You don’t sound very confident.” Marco notices. “Well, vodka, then. I think they ordered a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of wine. I’ll tell them to order a bottle of vodka.”

A whole bottle? I hope it’s for several people, not just me, or tonight could end badly. No, I can’t afford to do something stupid today. I have to behave.

When we arrive, I recognize the place. It’s an elegant bar that opened recently. I don’t think it competes with Artemis’s because it is quite far from downtown, while his club is in a particularly strategic location. We pass the entrance, and I’m surprised that the guard doesn’t ask for identification.

The first thing that hits me is the high-tech swivel lighting making colorful effects all over the place. We walk past the bar where bartenders are doing tricks with bottles and glasses. Everyone seems to be having a good time. We walk up some stairs decorated with little colored lights until we reach Ares’s group of friends.

This is going to be interesting.


The awkwardness I felt at breakfast the other day with Ares’s friends? Well, I’m feeling something like that now, but much worse. Samy walks past me and heads over to the group to say hi. With my hands in front of me, I interlace my fingers and glance at Ares, who is also greeting everyone.

I hate feeling invisible when people act like I don’t exist or pretend I’m not standing in front of them. Especially when it’s a group of rich kids who are used to judging you by the clothes you’re wearing: Are they branded or not? Are they from this season or not? And no, I’m not generalizing. There are people like Dani or Apolo who have money but don’t make a big deal of it, but right now, I can see the way the girls in this group stare at my clothes and make faces. And the guys? They just watch me as if deciding whether I’m pretty enough to bother talking to. Being the only Latina girl among them all makes it even more awkward.

I feel like years pass, when it’s only been seconds. I drop my hands to my sides and struggle not to run away. I’d like to say that it’s Ares who turns and draws me in, but it’s Samy who takes pity on my miserable state and comes back for me.

“Come on, Raquel. Let me introduce you.”

I fake a friendly smile while she introduces me to everyone. There are three girls. One with black hair who’s called Natalie, a blond next to her called Darla, and the third is the brunette I saw at Ares’s team party who had breakfast with us a few weeks ago. Her name is Andrea. There are two more guys sitting beside Gregory, Luis, and Marco. A blond guy who introduces himself as Zahid, and a guy with glasses named Oscar. I know I won’t remember all those names, but I don’t care.

I glance at Ares. He’s sitting next to Natalie on the other side of the table. It’s my turn to sit next to Samy, who was the last one to sit down; next to her is Oscar, and they seem to be talking about a music concert. Like a fool, I stare at Ares, who’s still talking to Natalie intently.

Is that why you brought me here, Greek God? To push me aside and amuse yourself with past conquests?

Lowering my gaze, I struggle with the bitterness in my chest and the tightness in my stomach. I had so many expectations for my first date with him. I painted so many different scenarios in my head, from romantic dinners to a simple movie outing, or maybe just sitting and talking in his car as he drove around town. But here I am, sitting across the table from him, feeling the same distance between us that was there at the beginning. It’s like getting closer to him makes the distance grow.

Everyone around me is talking, laughing, sharing stories, and I’m alone. It’s like I’m watching the scene, but I’m not part of it. This is his world, his comfort zone, not mine. And he left me alone in it, without a care in the world. Ares doesn’t look at me, not even once. And that’s enough for tears to form in my eyes. I stand up quickly, and Samy turns to me. I whisper to her that I’m going to the bathroom.

Passing through a mass of dancing bodies, I let the tears fall down my cheeks. Everyone is too busy having a good time to notice me. The music vibrates throughout the place, but it’s quieter in the bathroom. I allow myself to cry quietly in the cubicle. I need to calm down, I don’t want to be the dramatic one putting on a show, but this date meant a lot to me, and it’s turned out to be a disappointment.

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