Page 19 of Lies in Promises
It’s not my place to know the answers to those questions.
This girl doesn’t know me. She doesn’t owe me a single thing.
“Where are you from?” Her question rings out.
Again, I don’t hesitate to answer her question. “Chicago, but I’ve been living here in Austin for two years. Two years today, actually.”
“Let me guess. Your parents made you move here and you hate it. That’s why your so gloom.”
I can’t help but snort. “No. My coming here was a choice. My parents don’t even know I’m here.” Because they’re dead.
“Did you run away?” she asks in the softest tone.
“Yes.” There is no point in hiding the truth.
“I wouldn’t have pegged a guy like you as a runaway.”
“A guy like me?”
“Someone who comes from money,” she states point-blank, like she has known me my whole damn life.
“And how would you know I come from money?” For the first time since I sat down, I start to regret interacting with this woman.
“Not a whole lot of eighteen-year-olds can afford a lawyer like Manuel.”
Yeah, that regret is running deep. “I can say the same about you.”
“I didn’t use my daddy’s money to get that appointment.”
“Neither did I.” The words practically come from clenched teeth.
“I don’t believe that,” she tells me, her words accompanied by an eye roll.
So much for finally being able to breathe around this woman.
“Believe it or not, it’s the damn truth. Do I come from a wealthy family? Yes, but I haven’t used my parents’ money in two years. Were there times I wanted to? Sure—it would have made things a hell of a lot easier. I wouldn’t have to work at a fast-food joint or be thinking about joining the Army to make ends meet. But since they’re dead and I just gave up the one thing they told me to take care of, it didn’t feel fucking right.”
All the damn air disappears, like I was just put in a vacuum.
I shouldn’t have let those words leave my mouth, but I’m pissed off. If she wants to judge me, fine, but she’s going to get all the fucking facts first.
Neither of us says anything for a long time, so long that the waitress comes over to refill our coffee mugs twice.
Everything in me is saying to get up and leave, put this girl behind me. There’s no reason to continue sitting here.
But I can’t seem to find it in me to get up and walk out.
Apparently, neither can Marisela, because she is still here.
She is the first one to break the silence, and her question floors me.
“What did you give up?” she asks in almost a whisper. If it was any louder in here, I wouldn’t have been able to hear her.
A knot forms in my throat, and all the emotions come rushing back. I try my hardest to push them all down to answer her question.
My voice cracks as I speak.
“My brother,” I say to Marisela as I look her straight in her eyes, hoping she can see every single emotion I’m feeling swimming in my eyes.
