Page 51 of Deep In Love
My smile slips, and my abuela catches it. “What’s wrong? Are you not eating enough?”
I shake my head, ready to reassure her I’m eating plenty, but Jett beats me to it and spills my dirty secret to her.
This feels like a direct violation of the sacred rules beheld by the Brotherhood of Catan.
“He’s super bummed Blondie is not digging his vibe.”
She blinks, head cocking, as she translates his nonsense into a digestible sentence. When it clicks, she sighs.
“Mateo.”
“Abuela.”
“Don’tAbuelame. She is a fool for not seeing you.”
“She’s not,” I whisper, though my words are firm.
I haven’t stepped into the spotlight.
Flirt with Charlie? Easy. Tell her how I feel? Yeah, I would rather not without hard evidence I won’t get Karla Jergensed.
“If Charlie’s a fool, then so is Mateo,” Jett says plainly, and my abuela cackles. “Charlie is silly for not seeing howawesomeMateo is, and Mateo is a goober for not telling Charlie how he feels.”
“Quite right,” my abuela hums in agreement. “She isnotKarla Jergens,” she admonishes, but moves on. “I called to remind you to send me pictures of your trip, and that I’ve picked the next book.”
“Don’t worry, Abuela,” Jett says, “I’m recording everything, and Doug, my videographer, is creating killer content, so I’ll shoot it your way when it’s done.”
“Is the next book like this one?” I ask with trepidation.
“Oh, no.” She winks. “It’s much better.”
I’m smiling, shaking my head, when Charlie walks into the galley, drowning in the fabric of an oversized sweatshirt, the hem falling to her mid-thigh.
She scans the room before landing on me, tugging at her sleeves. A million words left unsaid stand between us.
I heard her sneak out last night, only to return an hour later, tiptoeing around the room to keep quiet. Only I was awake the whole time, imagining every scenario of her with Shaun. What they could be doing, speaking about, sharing with each other.
“You could cut the tension between you two with a knife.” Jett picks up his butter knife and waves it through the air. “Your abuela hung up, by the way.”
I don’t know what to say to her.
Something in my chest pinches when she takes her coffee and plate of food and sits at a table alone, her head hung low.
This is not what I want. I don’t want her to distance herself, or for us to walk on eggshells around each other.
“You could tell her now,” Jett says. “She’s looking at you like you mean something to her.”
My head lifts, first to Jett in surprise, then to Charlie, who’s staring across the room. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and the scar on her brow is crinkled.
Even now, in the early hours of the day, she’s breathtakingly beautiful.
It hurts to behold her, but it’s even more painful to look away.
“Listen, man,” Jett starts. “You just gotta muster up some courage, walk over there, and tell her how you feel.”
He rises from his seat and, without warning, shoves me out of mine. I scramble for footing, and Charlie watches on with confusion and concern.
Nerves rattling around my chest, I smooth out my shirt and take the first step toward her table. Then another.
