Page 52 of Wasted On Us

She has a point. Until now, I had never even considered fighting for someone this hard. Why fight for love at all? I always thought it should be easy. Something that either falls in your lap or you give it up, straightaway. And now, I’m considering risking it all and burning all of my bridges for a mane of black hair, azure eyes, and a nice smile. The old Mateo would beat me up for even thinking like this.

Swallowing my pride, I lay my heart out on the table for her to see. The way things have been going the last several hours, I don’t feel like I have anything left to lose.

“It’s what I want to do with you. If you tell me it’s not what you want, then I’ll leave you alone.”

I watch her turn my words over in her mind, a pained expression on her face. She looks at me sadly, reaching over and running a hand through my hair.

“I’m not sure how you were raised, but what I want has never really mattered.” Standing, she gathers her things, lifting her bag over her shoulder, before softly kissing me on the cheek. Her eyes are wet, and I feel the dampness from her tears against my skin. “Goodbye, Mateo. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. And don’t for one second think it’s because I don’t care about you. It’s because Ido.”

Then, she’s gone. I watch her walk out the door and down to her car, driving off back toward our houses. I know right then and there that I won’t be able to change her mind. I won’t be able to change the way I feel, either. All that is left is for me to change our circumstances instead.

Because when I said I couldn’t live without her, I meant it.

I’ll have to move out of my father’s house. It’s the only way. I told myself for years that I was only staying there for Abuelita, because I thought she needed me. The truth is—I needed her. She’s made it abundantly clear that she wants me to seek happiness on my own terms. I think it’s finally time for me to honor that wish, and for her baby bird to leave the nest.

Not that I would go very far. I still want to be close enough to answer her call, should she ever need me. But far enough that my father and Daniel Lorenson won’t have any power over me. There has to be a solution. A compromise, like Eden has always been trying to teach me to do. I solve problems for people all day at the dealership. It’s my job. I do it for a living. Why is it so easy to do then, but so hard now? This should be simple.

Maybe it’s easier to see the answer when the problem isn’t yours. And when your heart isn’t hanging in the balance.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Eden

I really need a hobby. My temp shifts at the doggie daycare have been slim for the past week. The girl I was replacing with the fractured ankle can finally walk again, but she has to wear a huge boot on her foot and can’t stand for more than thirty minutes at a time. As a result, my shifts are down by half. Between this, not talking to my parents, and not sneaking around with Mateo, I’ve been left with a lot of time on my hands.

I’ve cleaned my room twice, gathered a trash bag stuffed full of clothes to donate to charity, plucked my eyebrows, had more than one “self-care” day with a hot bath and hydrating face mask, and finally finished the first threeLord of The Ringsfilms so Elowyn will stop pestering me about them. Suffice it to say, I really need to get out of the house and talk to another human being. I’m in danger of starting to wallow, which is the last thing I need to do right now. Because wallowing leads to regretting, and regretting leads to calling Mateo and starting this entire cycle over.

Which would lead me right back to where I began.

So, a wave of gratitude flows over me when Ensley calls, offering to take me out of the house for the day. I pounce on the opportunity like a feline seeking catnip and am ready a full fifteen minutes before she’s supposed to arrive to pick me up. I’m sure she expected to have to drag me out of bed kicking and screaming, and hose the depression funk off of me in the backyard. So, she’s pleasantly surprised when I’m waiting on the front porch, wearing a full face of makeup and something vaguely resembling an outfit.

“You’re actually early. And you look…” She searches for the right word, staring at me from over her glasses. “Human.”

“Thank you,” I reply with a bow. “You seem just as warm and fuzzy as ever.”

She pauses, glaring at me, and then her upper lip twitches into a slight smile, and she huffs out a laugh. “Good to see you still have your sense of humor. Let’s get in the car before I have to hear any more of your jokes.”

I follow her out to her car, which is significantly nicer than mine. Ens has always been better with money than I am. Always talking about APRs and credit scores. I just let the stuff show up when it’s there and leave when it isn’t. That’s probably why I’m living with my parents and she’s driving a nice Tesla.

“Do Mom and Dad know you are with me instead of sneaking off to be with Mateo? I’m surprised they don’t have an ankle monitor on you.” She lets the car idle, checking her reflection in the mirror on the sun visor and wiping at an imperceptible smudge of lipstick at the corner of her mouth. “I feel like this is important for them to understand considering the circumstances.”

I roll my eyes. I love my sister, but her overprotectiveness sometimes manifests as treating me like I’m still five years old. “Yes, and as their oldest and most perfect child, you’d be the one to remind me. Of course. I left a note. And now I’m sending a pic as proof. I’m using a Snapchat filter with a time and date stamp. I’ve got this.”

“Yes, you’re so smart.” She pulls a sour face as I snap a quick photo of her in the driver’s seat to send to our parents. I’m sure they’ll be amused by how whimsical she looks. She’s looked like a fairy in all of our family photos since I’ve been born. Why would she change now? “Now, what’s the plan?”

I stare blankly at the windshield. I hadn’t gotten much further in my head than getting in the car with my sister and hoping for the best. Crap.

“I don’t know! I thought maybe if we put our heads together…”

“We did that. We’ve done that. I say go be a translator.” I can feel myself starting to argue with her, and she shoots me down before I even have a chance to breathe or think a contradictory thought. “You’ll be away from Mateo. You’ll get your dream. And Mom and Dad will forgive you in time.”

“Yeah,” I offer weakly in response to Eden’s bulldozer approach. “I’m not doing that.”

She pauses, drumming her nails on the steering wheel. Her ever-present bangles twirl and clang together. “Then let’s go get ice cream. It’s brain food.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” I can’t imagine ice cream making me think any better. It might dull my sorrows for an afternoon, but that’s not a habit I want to get into. “Plus ice cream will make me fat.”

Eden sucks her teeth in annoyance. “Gelato?” she offers, and I am immediately reminded of the stracciatella that Mateo bought me at Sunset Bluffs.

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