Page 23 of For Cowgirls and Kings
NINE
ADALENE
January 12th, 2014
In a few shortmonths I’ll be graduating high school, and although I’m excited, I’m also dreading it. Everyone always asks“what’s next”, and the truth is, I have no stinkin’ clue. What happens to the shy, sheltered, and extremely inexperienced girl after graduation?The world swallows her hole, that’s what.
Or that’s what I imagine anyways. And it’s terrifying.
Happy thoughts, Adalene Maria.
Sighing, I shake my hands at my sides, trying to dispel the nerves from my body. My parents are expecting me to show up and present the dutiful, demure daughter they’ve raised. And even though I don’t feel like my parents know me at all, I’ll show up and be who they expect me to be. It’s easier than disappointing them.
I wipe a hand over the cotton, baby blue dress my mother says always brings out the softness in my eyes, and readjust the white bow in my hair. I feel like a doll—I get dressed in whatever’s expected of me, and play whatever roll I’m given.
I have nothing that’s truly mine, and no one who actually knows me.
“Come, Mija.” I hear my mother’s firm voice before I see herperfectly styled hair come into view. She’s dressed in her Sunday best, the cream pants and white blouse making her look like a mid-aged Latina model. She’s beautiful, and there are days I hope to look just like her when I get to be nearly fifty.
And then I think about how I absolutely do not want to be as vain or fixated on my appearance as she is. I want to love myself for who I am, not what I look like.
“Coming, Mama,” I scurry to meet her, and she does a quick once over of my appearance, noting each imperfection with a tick of her jaw.
“Mrs. Mendes, you look lovely today.” I halt, the familiar smoky voice sending a wave of unwanted chills to skitter down my legs. I knew he’d be here, but being near him is an entirely different thing.
“Oh, Mateo, how wonderful to see you. How’s your family? Are they here already?” My mother’s voice raises a notch, a note of wonder filling it. She’s kind to everyone she meets, but she has a soft spot for Mateo. I don’t think it has to do with the fact that his family’s beyond wealthy; she’s not like that. But I know she notices how he’s always been nice to me, and has this delusional idea that he’ll someday be interested in me.
Guys like Mateo don’t like the timid, sheltered, mousy girl. They want someone with an air of power about them—confidence and beauty. I’m none of those things, and unless I can somehow crawl out from under the thumb of my wonderful—yet smothering—parents, there’s no universe that version of me exists.
I can’t even picture what I would have worn today if my mother hadn’t been here to pick it out for me.
“My sister’s getting out of the car now, but my parents are regrettably busy.” I peek a look at him over my shoulder to see him smiling at my mother, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I quickly turn back around—I hate his sister, Valentina. Ifyou were to look up‘bully’in a dictionary, her picture would surely be there. She always comes after me for liking Mateo, reminding me that we’re two very different classes of people.
I know that—I don’t like,like him.I just like that he’s nice to me. Very few people are.
I have one good friend, but she has a horrible life, and always talks about getting out of Texas. She dreams of a world beyond this one, and I envy that about her. I envy being brave enough to leave my family. But I know our situations are different—her family is abusive and evil. My parents biggest crime is loving me a little too much.
I can’t complain.
“Oh, what a shame. Well, I insist you sit with us.” My mother smiles brightly back at him, and if I was a braver person, I’d tell her maybe he doesn’twantto sit with us. But I’m not. And I don’t.
“We’d appreciate that, thank you, Mrs. Mendes.”
Mama turns around, signaling us to follow.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to wait for Valentina. We’ll be in shortly though.” I start to shuffle behind my mother’s bobbing head, “Adalene, will you wait with me?” I don’t even raise my head as I open my mouth to protest, but my mother shoots me a disapproving look. The only thing worse than my parents waiting on me to join them in silence, is turning down an offer from a potential suitor.
Which sounds super dumb, I know.Welcome to my life.
I turn around and offer Mateo a small smile, Mama huffing behind me before she walks inside the old sale barn, the door clicking shut behind her. I sag, a breath I didn’t know I was holding wheezing out of me.
Mateo watches me thoughtfully, his cropped black hair glistening with gel, a white pressed button up tucked into blackslacks giving him the air of importance. He doesn’t yet run his family’s empire, but he sure looks the part.
It’s a good stinkin’ look too.
“Mateo, how are you?” I twist the front of my dress in my hands, trying desperately to maintain eye contact even though I feel like I might burst into flames at any moment.
