Twelve Steps to Normal(75)

The fluttering returns, because going together actually feels like it could be a real date.

On the way over there he fills me in on the fall play and the upcoming Little Shop of Horrors auditions and the finishing touches he needs to put on Audrey II. I listen, my gaze falling on his mouth every so often.

But suddenly the sun is dipping below the skyline and we’re at Rosita’s. Everything I want to say becomes stuck in the back of my throat.

When we walk inside, I spot Alex’s mom refilling drinks for a couple sitting near the window. Her face brightens when she sees me.

“?Mijo!” She gives Alex a quick squeeze before enveloping me in a bear hug. I let myself relax, hugging her back. “?Te ves bien! You’ve been well?”

“Yes! Thank you,” I say, smiling. It’s the less complicated answer, anyway. “It’s great to see you.”

“Vamos a comer,” Alex says, then switches back to English. “I’ll help you close later.”

His mom gives him a grateful look. “Sí, sí, necesitas comer,” she says, then goes back into the kitchen.

“Food?” I guess.

He grins. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving, actually.”

“Good. If you recall, she doesn’t exactly hold back.”

Alex and I sit down at the bar. “It looks exactly how I remember it.”

“Not much has changed. But hey, my dad might be coming home soon. Hopefully by December. We think we might have a buyer for the restaurant.”

“Alex.” His smile is contagious. I’m really happy for him. “That’s amazing.”

“My mom could really use help with my little cousins. Ana and I switch off evenings closing here, but she’s buckling down with her college apps. She shouldn’t have to be distracted.”

I can’t help staring at him. He’s so selfless. He’s not the only one who has more people living under his roof, and he’s never complained about it. Not once.

Alex meets my gaze. “What?”

I blush, looking away. I’ve been staring too long. “Nothing,” I say, then reconsider. “Actually, promise me something?”

“Depends, but go ahead.”

“Finish a screenplay by next summer.”

Alex looks surprised. “I don’t—”

“What do you have to lose?”

He thinks for a moment. “I guess I’ll have more time with my dad back.”

“You will,” I insist.

His mom returns with a platter of food for us. Chips and salsa, tortillas and rice and beans, and plenty of beef tamales. She sets the spread down in front of us, and we offer our thanks before she heads back into the kitchen.

“You’re going to have to roll me out of here,” I say, looking at the plate in front of me. I smile at him. “I’m going to eat everything.”

“I’m sure she has pan dulce back there, too.”

I dramatically clutch my chest. “Obviously we have to eat that, too.”

He grins. “Obviously.”

I’m about to dig in when I hear the door open. To my surprise, Lacey Woodward walks in. Her blond hair flows elegantly behind her, something straight out of a shampoo commercial. My insides immediately coil in defense. What is she doing here?

Alex puts on his typical good-natured smile when he spots her. “Hey, here for pick-up?”

“Yup,” Lacey chirps. “Mrs. Henson is having us run lines until nine tonight, but, whatever, she’s buying us dinner so I guess that makes up for it.”

“Let me grab my mom, one sec.” He hops off the barstool, leaving me alone with Lacey.

I try sitting up a little straighter, pulling my shoulders back. No wonder Alex went to Sadie’s and homecoming with Lacey. She’s straight out of a Disney movie with her petite frame and endearing spackle of freckles across her nose. Compared to her, I’m a frump with frizzy hair.

I take a deep breath. That was two years ago. Why are you worrying?

“It’s good to see you,” Lacey says. “I mean, I know I’ve seen you at rehearsals and stuff, but I just meant here. Like, back at school.”

My jealousy toward her dissolves, just a little. “Thanks. I did miss it here.”

Alex reappears with two carry-out platters wrapped in a plastic bag. “Go forth and feed the masses.”

“Cool, I’m starving.” Lacey hands over the credit card, and Alex quickly rings up the transaction. “See y’all later.”

I watch as she leaves. When I look back, Alex is staring at me. Smiling.

“What?” I ask, embarrassed and defensive at the same time.

“You don’t have to worry about Lacey.”

“Who said I was worrying about Lacey?”

Ugh, my attempt to be cool about this is quickly backfiring. Even I can hear it.

Alex stares at me, raising an eyebrow. “You do remember that you’re the one I kissed the other day, right?”

Heat flows through my body, creeping up the back of my neck as I remember the gentle desperation of his lips on mine. That’s not a moment I’m likely to forget.

We finish our meal and then, as promised, Alex brings a variety of pan dulce for us to share as dessert. I’m lost in our conversation. His eyes never leave mine as I bring up memories of all the notes we wrote to each other on Starburst wrappers we eventually turned into bracelets. He admits to keeping them, and I tell him I have mine, too. We switch to discussing ideas for his screenplay, and I scribble down notes on a napkin, growing warm as he leans closer to watch me write.