She scoops up the golden brooch, slipping it into her front jean pocket. I shut the box for her, pushing it back into the mess of paperwork. I suppose it doesn’t matter if Dani knows we were here now.
“We should go,” I whisper as she stares at her fingernails, lightly scratching at the bright red polish. She’s always chipping it, scraping away each coat. But the next day, it’s always there again.
We’re back on the porch and I’m moving the mat into its original place, the scratchy fabric noisy against the brick, when I sense Talia freeze beside me.
“Talia? ?Qué estás haciendo aquí?” an unfamiliar voice asks. I grasp for Talia’s hand before thinking better of it and press it into my skirt instead as I turn around. Even if she didn’t have the same bone structure as Dani, logic would’ve told me the woman standing before us, with her arms full of groceries, is Talia’s aunt.
“Tía Eliana,” Talia finally says, jolting back to life. “I called Dani and told her you left your jacket at my house last week.”
“What jacket?” Eliana asks, cocking her head to the side.
“The corduroy one,” Talia replies quickly, too quickly. “With the patches falling off the elbows.”
“I threw out that jacket months ago,” Eliana replies, eyes narrowing. Talia deflates beside me. “So I’ll ask again, what were you doing in my house?” Her eyes shift to me, and my blood runs cold. “And who is this?”
“This is Ophelia.”
“Another one of your little friends, como Victoria?” Eliana sets her bags down at her feet and crosses her arms.
Talia doesn’t respond to that. Almost as if in a trance, she reaches into her pocket and lifts the brooch up for her aunt to see. “This is mine, and Dani took it.”
“That was my mother’s. It should’ve never touched your hands,” Eliana says, completely unfazed. “She was sick and foolish when she died, wasn’t seeing you clearly.”
“Abuelita wanted me to have this. Dani has her own.”
“Tu abuela no sabía que estabas jodiendo con otras muchachas en secreto.” The words feel like a slap in the face, even though they’re not directed at me. Your grandmother didn’t know you were fucking other girls in secret.
“One kiss!” Talia cries, Eliana’s words drawing something wet and miserable out of her voice. “One kiss goodbye to my best friend almost four years ago! Abuelita wouldn’t have cared! My dad got over it! But you and Dani still treat me like some villain!”
“You and Victoria would’ve ruined my daughter!”
“I wasn’t going to fuck my cousin!” Talia’s voice is poisonous, violent. I almost don’t recognize her. “Tell your precious daughter to stay out of my stuff and you won’t have to worry about my bisexuality corrupting her precious soul.”
“You’ll be damned for this,” Eliana says, stepping forward as if to slap Talia.
Talia spits on the ground before her aunt’s feet, forcing her to stop. “You think I’m headed for hell? I’ll see you there.”
With that, we sprint past Eliana. I throw open the passenger door as Talia flings herself into the driver’s seat. Eliana catches up to us while Talia is still turning the ignition on and stares, shaking her head.
I raise a single, unpolished middle finger to the window and roll it down just enough for Eliana to hear me. “Come mierda.”
And then we’re off.
* * *
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Talia says once we’re a safe distance away, not that either of us expected Eliana to follow. We stop at a red light, and Talia pulls the brooch out from her pocket, twirling it between her matching fingers, aglow with ruby light. “We did it.”
I know we’re feeling exhilarated and empowered, but I have to say it. “I’m so sorry about what Eliana said.”
Talia shrugs, for once looking like she actually doesn’t care what some of her family thinks about her. “I can’t change her mind. She thinks I’m a sinner, so I acted like one. At least now I’ve earned my damnation.”
I grin, drunk on teenage rebellion. “You were pretty badass.”
“What about you with your ‘come mierda’?” she laughs, pitching up her voice as she mimics me. “How long have you been waiting to say that to someone?”
“Seventeen and a half years, give or take.” Cursing hits different in Spanish.
She doubles over in laughter. She’s barely looking as the light turns green and we race down the empty streets. I don’t know how there are so few cars out on a Friday night, but I don’t question it. Maybe everyone got the memo that Ophelia Rojas and Talia Sanchez were set loose tonight, breaking into houses and cursing out homophobic aunts.
We scream at the top of our lungs to the electro pop music Talia starts blaring through the radio. As we zoom past the streets I’ve known my entire life, I wonder if I’ll ever feel better than I do in this moment. I’ve never felt so alive, never felt so free.
I blink and we’re pulling up to my house. I beg Talia to drive around the block, again, too delirious and ecstatic to worry about how my hands are tugging on her shoulders, but she teasingly pries me off.
“I’ve got to get home before Eliana calls my dad and tells him what happened,” she says, eyes falling and tone sobering. She turns down the music until only a vibrating thump remains. “She’s probably already called him, but I should do some damage control before he can stew too long in it.”
“How bad do you think it’s going to be?” I ask, biting my lip. Her eyes drift up to mine, staying clear of my mouth.
“Can’t be worse than when Tori and I kissed. He’ll get over it.” She leans back into her seat, covering her face with her hands. “Who would’ve thought that tiny kiss would’ve fucked me over like this.”
I pause. “Was it worth it?”
She pulls her hands off her face. “What?”
“Kissing Tori,” I say. “Was it worth it?”
She watches me, seconds turning to hours. My palms bead with sweat in my lap, but I refuse to wipe them on my legs, fearing any movement will break the moment.
“I won’t change who I am for them.” Her voice is so soft, nearly a whisper, but her conviction is unwavering. “I hid how I felt about Tori for so long. But when she kissed me, I knew it wasn’t wrong. I knew I wasn’t wrong. That was worth every ounce of my family’s disappointment, because from then on I knew I didn’t deserve it.”
I don’t think; I can’t possibly think right now. My thoughts, my brain, wouldn’t let me do any of this otherwise.
Because I’m not the girl who breaks into houses and steals already stolen family heirlooms. I’m not the girl who throws a drink on a boy at a college party. I’m not the girl who fights with her mom and avoids her for days afterward.
I’m not the girl who likes girls.
But in this moment, that girl that I am doesn’t matter. Because right now I am this girl.