Page 103 of Sombra
I’m chilled, and it’s not just because I need my jacket. “Yes.”The one who never responded to my email breaking up with him.
Tavo’s mouth falls open. His head whips back and forth from Shane to me and back to Shane, as Shane approaches us, feet crunchingon the gravel, the wintry sun low in the sky.
This is worse than anything I’ve ever imagined. Even my naked stress-out dreams in the auditorium.
Shane waves at me. “Kim?”
I say with as much brightness as I can muster—admittedly not much—“Shane’s here, Tavo. Isn’t that great?”
The look on Tavo’s face says this is anything but great.
Shane’s precise hair joltsme back to all the trips to the barber in Iowa. His beefcake body hides under my least favorite shirt of his, the one that says, “I PAUSED MY GAME TO BE HERE,” which is not only ironic but likely true. Even though he’s wearing a hoodie, I know his wardrobe well enough to make it out from just a few words in the middle.
I squeeze my eyes shut, then fix my features into a smile and walk forwardwith my arms out. “Hi, Shane. Wow. This is a surprise.” I give him an awkward hug while Tavo scowls. When Tavo clears his throat, I step back.
Shane grins, but he’s punchy. Jumpy like a boxer, dancing on his feet. Probably tired from the trip. “Yeah! I wanted to surprise you. Jeez, I didn’t recognize you with that hair color! I like it.”
What the actual fuck? Did he not read my email?Why is he so cheery? Does he not know we’re broken up?
The kitchen door bangs behind me, and Tavo’s mom emerges headed our way.
Good God.
“So this is where you’re staying?” Shane asks. “I dig it. It’s really pretty. Wow. Spain!”
What the actual hell?
Tavo tugs at his collar and steps closer to me, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard.
Shane holds out his hand. “Hi. Shane Nichols.”
“Gustavo de la Guerra Cantor.” Tavo says that with as much Latin flourish as he can. They shake hands. While Shane’s friendly, Tavo wants to obliterate him with his grasp. His lips are pressed into a slash, and his jaw’s clenched tight. When they let go, he folds his arms over his chest and takes another step closer to me.
Seemingto ignore Tavo’s reception, Shane grins widely and reaches out a hand, patting the side of my arm. I hear a grumble suppressed in Tavo’s throat.
Tavo’s mom walks up between us with a curious look on her face. “Hola,” she says, extending her hand and giving Shane two kisses. “I am Tavo’s mother. Are you a friend of Kim?”
“Yeah! Hi! I’m from back home. Shane Nichols.”
“MisterShane, you are heramigo?”
As I shake my head no, Shane says, “Yeah.”
Is she asking amigo as in friend or amigo as in more than friend?
Tavo’s mom’s eyelids fly open, and she leans closer to him. “Welcome, welcome. You must be tired. We will feed you. Come, come. I will introduce you to our family.” Beyond her, back at the kitchen, Valeria and Tavo’s abuelo are standing inthe doorway, watching intently.
Clenching his fists, Tavo closes his eyes and gives the barest shake of his head. But his mom completely ignores him and pulls Shane into the house to have breakfast, leaving me and Tavo standing there. As Shane walks away, he looks back over his shoulder, and I could swear he smirks.
“I … uh,” I say lamely. “He’s not … We’re not … I really need totalk to him.”
The pain in Tavo’s eyes is too much for me to bear. “Did you know he was coming?”
“No! He’s been radio silent for weeks.” I reach out and hold Tavo’s hands. “Please. Just let me talk to him. I’ll find out why he’s here.”
Tavo searches my face, seeming to look to see if I’m telling the truth. Finding nothing amiss, with a curt nod, he lets go of my hands and exhales.“I don’t like this, Kim.”
“I don’t either. Are you going to stay? Or go to school?”
