Page 19 of The Crush
Sixteen
Isabel
“There you are, Daniel,” my father calls out as soon as he sees us emerge from the house into the backyard. “We thought you might have forgotten where the bathroom was and were about to send a search party.” He chuckles until his eyes fall on me. “Everything all right, muñequita?”
“Yeah, I…” The longer my father looks at me the more I can feel my words faltering, my steps slowing as the start of a cold sweat breaks out on my palms.Does he know?
I glance at Daniel, and he jumps in to answer for me. “Sorry to worry you. We were just cleaning up.”
I cough, choking on the sharp breath I take in before I realize he’s referring to thedisheshe’d helped me do. Not what he’d done with his tongue before sending me to my room with a request that Iplease put some underwear onbefore heloses his fucking mind.
Fortunately, any suspicion my reaction might have caused is covered by my mother’s gasp of horror that a guest had managed to wash a pan while she wasn’t looking. “Danny, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Isabel did most of it on her own,” Daniel amends, his face the picture of innocence. “I figured there was no sense in her finishingby herself when I’m right there to help.” The last word comes out a little strained as I covertly—but sharply—pinch his side.
“We were about to break out a few more drinks,” Gabe says, wandering over from his place by the fire. “We’ve got whiskey and beer. You want one?”
“Just a beer,” Daniel answers, catching a can when it’s tossed to him.
In our absence the group has naturally divided, my brothers in one circle and our parents in the other. Of the two options, Daniel and I seem to silently agree on the first, even if it also means that we have to listen to Aarón and Eli talk about their touch football league.
“It’s a really good team. Lot of potential,” Aarón proclaims confidently, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie to expose muscled forearms.
On every occasion but church, Aarón prefers to look like he is either on his way to or coming from the gym. His thick black hair always styled to look purposefully messy above his deep-set brown eyes.
“I mean, everything is really starting to come together. Could see us going all the way this year.”
“To where?” Daniel asks. “Your homes?”
I snort into my beer, and to my left, Gabe looks similarly amused. Aarón and Eli? Not so much.
“Always forget you aren’t much of a sports guy,” Aarón says after a beat of silence, an edge to his voice that makes me tense.
“Not really,” Daniel replies, shrugging. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine. Happy to change topics,” Aarón reassures him, as if this is some large failing that he’s gracious enough to forgive. “So, Daniel, what was it like to execute drug lords?”
“Jesus, Aarón,” I snap, staring daggers at my oldest brother and completely ignoring my mother’s protest over my blasphemy from several paces away.
“Come on, Isa,” Eli says, backing Aarón up as usual. “Can’t blame him for asking. It’s cool.”
“What is wrong with you?” I glance at Daniel quickly, at the visible indents he’s leaving in his beer can with his fingers. “It’s not funny.”
At least Eli has the good sense to look ashamed, hiding his light-brown eyes and short beard beneath his well-worn cowboy hat. Aarón, on the other hand…
“Too gruesome for you to talk about,hermanita?” he taunts. “Why don’t you run along? I’m sure you have a book lying around somewhere.” Daniel shifts slightly next to me, almost imperceptibly angling his body in front of mine. “I want to hear Agent Ríos here talk about how he took down Escobar.”
“I didn’t,” Daniel says evenly, and I have to fight to hide my own interest in the new snippet of information when he continues, “I didn’t work on Escobar. At least not directly.”
Aarón takes a deep swig of his beer. “That’s too bad. I just figured with everyone saying what a hero you are.”
I want to hit him. At the very least, I want to yell at him, and when I do speak, my tone is scalding withyearsof repressed annoyance. “Don’t worry, Aarón. I’m sure everyone will go back to talking about your senior year touchdown pass before long.”
His eyes narrow at me, and I know I’ve hit my target.
“You know…” he says, appearing to come to a sudden realization. “You’ve been kind of a bitch ever since you came back.”
One moment, Daniel is standing beside me, and the next, he’s grasping the front of Aarón’s hoodie, jerking his face toward him as he warns, “You really had better watch your fucking mouth when you talk to her.”
