Page 52 of My December Darling

“I’m not sure whether or not to take that as an insult.”

Her lips quirk at the corners. “Let’s leave it open to interpretation then.”

It takes a few minutes to warm up her hands, and by then, our conversation turns back to the speech.

I reluctantly let her go so she can freely open the notebook to the page we left off on.

“Are you in the mood for a sappy speech or a funny one?” I ask.

“How’s yours?”

“A mix of both.”

“Wait. You can be funny?” she asks it with a straight face.

I glare before she breaks out into laughter.

Damn. I’ve never been so affected by the sound of someone else’s happiness before, nor have I craved finding other ways to elicit the same response again.

She nudges me with her shoulder. “I’m kidding. I think I want a mix too. Too much emotion from me might make people uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Most of them think I don’t have any.” The casual way she talks about herself pierces through my chest.

“What makes you think that?”

She stares at her notebook like the page is full of notes rather than blank lines.

“Catalina?”

Her heavy sigh feels like I’m hit dead center in the chest with a heavy weight. “I know what some people say about me behind my back.”

I’ve never wanted to punch something—orsomeonefor that matter—more.

She holds her fist up and lifts her thumb. “Quiet. Bitter.” She ticks another finger. “Cold and stuck-up.” Her middle and ring fingers both rise. “The not-so-nice Martinez sister.” She wiggles her pinkie finger.

I grab her hand and interlock our fingers. “Enough of that.”

“What?” Her brows tug together. “You know it’s true.”

I shake my head. “What I know is that opinions are just that.Opinions, not facts. And frankly, anyone who thinks that about you sure as hell doesn’t deserve to have you prove them wrong.”

Catalina might keep her distance from others, but that doesn’t make her emotionless or bitter, and I hate myself for ever giving anyone’s incorrect assumption about her a single ounce of attention. Sure, a very small group of people around town have described her as withdrawn and disinterested in making connections with others, which usually doesn’t fare well in a small community, but I’m starting to realize Catalinalikespeople, she just doesn’t want to.

“Are they though? It’s not like I make an effort to have a ton of friends.”

“Why not?”

She takes so long to answer, I expect her not to, but then she surprises me when she says, “I’ve always been shier than Gabriela. More self-conscious and less likely to put myself out there, so people make their own assumptions about me.”

Tension builds at the base of my neck. “You know what they say about people who assume?”

Her cutting laugh makes me frown. “Yeah, well, I don’t try to prove them wrong either.”

“If they made an effort to get to know you—a real effort—they’d think differently.”

Her smile is sad. “Some people do try, but I’m not the easiest person to talk to. I’m not exactly…likable.”

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