Page 14 of Resurrection
He laughed a little. "Been a while since someone called me sir." He had warm brown eyes, and I noticed they were the same as Adri’s.
"This is my husband, Jose," Letty explained while fumbling with some plates by the stove.
"Hope you're hungry," Jose said. "We always make enough to feed an army around here."
It was loud and lively with some tune crooning on the radio. It was nothing like the quiet I was used to during our family dinners.
"Is your sister coming?" Jose asked Adri as we settled into our chairs.
"She won't be home tonight," Letty said. "Don’t you remember? She's having a sleepover at Brittney’s."
"The Fenwick girl?" Jose grunted out.
"Let them be. School’s starting again soon. They won’t have time for these girls' nights anymore."
A bowl of steaming posole appeared in front of me. I’d tried it before at a quinceañera my parents were invited to a couple of years ago. Letty’s was the bomb, though.
The conversation at the table was easy, full of laughter and questions about where my family moved from and what my parents did. It felt like I'd known Adri’s parents longer than just an evening.
"How do you like the posole?" Jose asked when I finished my bowl.
"It’s great."
"Secret family recipe," Jose said with a wink.
Adri’s doorbell rang when it was getting dark outside. He and I were looking through his collection of CDs in his room while we listened to Red Hot Chili Peppers. He didn’t know that I played guitar yet, but it seemed like we were vibing on the same wavelength.
"—you seen my son?" a worried voice carried from the front of the house.
"Crap," I muttered as I sprung to my feet from where I'd been lounging cross-legged on Adri's cluttered bed. "That’s my mom."
Adri glanced at me, dropping the volume on his boombox so that the sound faded to a whisper in the background. "Are you gonna be in trouble?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.
"Maybe."
"It’s all good," Adri said. "I’ll tell her I kidnapped you."
"She’ll freak out more."
"Ty?" Letty showed up at Adri’s door. "Your mom is here."
We scrambled out of Adri’s room and headed down the hallway and into the living room, where Colette Brady waited for me with her fists on her hips. It was her angry pose.
"You should have told me you were going to be at your friend’s house, Tyler." She started fuming immediately.
"Sorry," Letty stepped in. "It was our fault. We thought he’d told his parents he’d be here."
I don’t know how Letty figured I’d done that since she’d literally seduced me with the promise of food. But I realized she was just trying to be helpful.
In the end, it all worked out.
My parents became friends with Adri’s parents—the Medinas. And I made my first friend too.
The only family member who remained elusive during those first couple of weeks after our move—always at her girlfriend's house or volunteering somewhere—was Adri's mysterious sister.
It took me a while to finish decorating my room. When I finally managed to organize all my posters and my collection of memorabilia, I invited Adri over. He stepped inside, giving my space the kind of once-over that made me nervous. It was like he was sizing up everything, examining my taste with a mix of curiosity and judgment in his dark eyes.
My walls were covered from top to bottom and looked sick. Still, part of me was terrified he’d find seeing Bon Jovi and Nirvana plastered all over them as cringey.
