Page 90 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Brooklyn elbows me in the ribs as if she can hear my thoughts. “I’m glad you came, Mateo, and I want you to know that this has nothing to do with Jordan. This is all me.”
I glance at her, lifting an eyebrow and smiling at her. She ignores me, which is probably a good idea.
“When I heard what happened with Mr. DeNiro, I felt so bad about what I told you. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to point out his mistakes, and I never wanted you to get into trouble. I am sincerely sorry about all of it.”
Mateo listens with plenty of wariness in his eyes, but he doesn’t seem quite as eager to run as he did before she started talking. And when she finishes, he purses his lips and looks down.
Alejandro does the same thing when he’s feeling awkward or unsure, and I can’t help but smile at the similarities between my two brothers despite the nine years between them. I don’t remember the last time we were all together; Alex has been deployed for the last year, and I spent most holidays with Natalie’s parents in California after we got married.
The three of us probably haven’t been in the same place since my wedding four years ago, and even then I was a little preoccupied. Have Ieverspent a lot of time with Mateo?
“Thanks,” Mateo says eventually, shoulders hunched as he studies the menu in front of him.
Brooklyn bites her lip and looks at me with worry in her eyes, like she’s afraid she didn’t say enough.
I shouldn’t, but I grab her hand under the table anyway. Really, it just makes sitting in this small space more comfortable, and she could use the reassurance. “Hey Brook, did you hear about what happened to Mr. DeNiro’s car?”
Her eyes immediately light up. “You mean when someone covered it in halves of Oreos?”
“Really?” Mateo says, clearly forgetting the fact that he was feeling awkward. “Someone did that?”
Brooklyn grins. “On Friday before school. Looks like you’re not the only one who thinks Mr. DeNiro is a little too serious sometimes.”
Mateo risks a smile, and his hands appear on top of the table now to unwrap his silverware onto the table. Was that really all it took to get him to stay? “I wasn’t trying to make him feel stupid when I called him out. I just want to make sure everyone learns the formulas right so they can do well on their tests.”
“Is that why you’ve been tutoring?”
Mateo drops his hand in shock, landing it directly on his fork. It goes flying, crossing the restaurant until it lands in an old lady’s high hairdo.
She doesn’t even notice.
“How did you know about that?” Mateo asks, voice cracking.
“Uh, yeah, I want to know that too,” I say. “You’ve been tutoring?”
Though Mateo looks terrified—I’m not thrilled by that reaction to something that should be a good thing—Brooklyn smiles gently. “I asked around about you on Friday,” she says. “I’m surprised you have enough time to do it all on top of your college classes.”
“What college classes?” I ask, feeling entirely too ignorant at the moment.
Mateo throws me a glance but speaks only to Brooklyn. “I do my homework while in class so I can tutor people after school. I’m just auditing the college classes.”
None of this is making sense to me. “How can you afford to audit college classes?”
“He charges for tutoring,” Brooklyn says, as if it should be obvious. “You’re still working with kids from your old school?”
Nodding, Mateo seems to be slowly relaxing again. “That’s why I got into those fights. One kid didn’t get a good enough score on his test, and he blamed me. Convinced his friends to jump me after school.”
Brooklyn yelps, and I realize I’m squeezing her hand too tightly. “Sorry,” I say with a wince and then turn back to my brother. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
He rolls his eyes, back to a surly teenager in an instant. “Tell who? Dad’s never home, you’re always working, and I didn’t want to make Mom worry.”
“She was worried anyway! You could have explained—”
This time Brooklyn squeezes my hand. “I know how it feels to want to avoid being a burden,” she says softly, “but you should never be afraid to tell the people who love you what you’re going through.”
“I didn’t want to make things worse,” Mateo mumbles. “And now I’ve already been sent to the principal’s office. Mom thinks I’m a failure.”
“She doesn’t.” I don’t hesitate with my response. “Trust me. Mom thinks way more highly of us boys than she should, and you lucked out as the baby of the family.”
