Page 110 of Chokehold
“Want to play Café with me?”
“Some other time. I’m here to see your brother.”
She takes my hand in her small one and leads me inside. The moment we enter the hallway, I’m greeted by the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked bread. Tiago’s mom, Camila, shuts the oven door and looks up as we pass the kitchen. Her face brightens with one of her signature smiles, which highlights the crow’s feet around her eyes. “How lovely to see you, Blaise. It’s been too long.”
She hugs me, too. They’re big on them in this household. No one escapes Camila’s warm hugs or affectionate smiles. She rustles my hair like I’m still a kid, and the niggling sensation inmy chest eases a little. I can finally breathe easier. “Tiago is in his room.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to play Café with me?” Lucía asks, batting her long lashes.
Tiago’s mom ushers her into the kitchen. “Vamos, cariño. Blaise vino aquí para ver a su amigo.”
“Some other time,” I say to the girl before heading upstairs.
Tiago looks over his shoulder, pausing the game on the fifty-inch TV as I enter his room. Tossing the controller beside him on the couch, he removes his headphones and smiles. I plop down on the armchair and waste no time pressing the little button that makes the chair recline.
It whirrs, and I wait. And wait.
When I’m finally lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, Tiago covers a laugh with a cough and gets into character. “What brings you here today?”
“If you text someone and they don’t text you back…it’s bad news, right?”
“Maybe the person is busy?”
“The person lives on his phone. I’ve texted three times. No response.”
“Are you sure you’re not overly clingy?”
“Of course, I’m fucking clingy.” Frustration bleeds into my tone. “He always responds… Well, not always. But most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“Okay, so maybe he’s terrible at responding on time. Something is different this time. I can feel it in my fucking gut.”
“Did something happen?”
I shake my head. There’s a stain on the ceiling from the time we shook a bottle of pop, underestimating how high it would spray when we uncapped it. I don’t remember ever laughing so hard. “I don’t know. We were good this morning. I had a shower,and when I walked back into the bedroom, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”
“Did you ask him if he was okay?”
I roll my head and look at Tiago. “You’re a shit therapist. Of course, I did.”
“Ask him again.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
Tiago smiles as he rubs his chin, and I frown as I sit up. “What’s so funny?”
“I’ve never seen you so hung up on someone before.”
“I’m not fucking hung up on him.”
His lips twitch as he lowers his hand. “Are you kidding? Look at you.”
I peer down at myself as if my clothing will magically give me the answers I need. Tiago chuckles and reaches for the controller. The game starts back up. He puts his sock-clad feet on the table, crossing them at the ankle. “Mia wasn’t right for you.”
Pressing the button again, I wait a millennia for the chair to return to a seating position.
Whiiiir.
