I HADN’T HUNG OUT with William in months, lately because I’d been grounded, but even before that there had been times when he’d invited me to do something—go to Holy Angels to watch the girls in their uniforms or to Bing’s to get cinnamon rolls or to a movie at Newark Shopping Center—but I’d shot him down so often that he started snubbing me, acting like he didn’t see me when I passed him in the hall at school, walking away if I approached him at his locker, sitting at a table as far from me as he could possibly get in the cafeteria. I figured that with enough time he would get over it, but in the end, I was the one who caved.
“Hey,” I said one day in chemistry. We were going through the motions of that day’s experiment, sitting side by side while neither of us acknowledged the other’s existence. “Is this seriously how it’s going to be?”
He pretended like he couldn’t hear me.
“Hey,” I said louder.
He looked at me.
“You know this is dumb, right?” I said.
“Did you just call me dumb?”
I rolled my eyes. “So you’re gonna keep being like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like, not my friend.”
“Me? You’re the one who keeps dissing.”
“I’ve been grounded.”
“So you’ve said.”
“It’s true.”
“What about before that?”
“I had other plans.”
“Yeah. With her.”
“I told you that you could come hang out with us if you wanted.”
“What do you do with her anyway?”
“What do you mean? We talk.”
“She can talk?”
I gave him the finger.
William pulled a beaker out of the clamp and held it up to the light, watching the soft fizz of the chemicals inside.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“For what?”
He gave me a sideways look. “Seriously, if you don’t know, then it’s not worth it.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth. Fine. If that’s what it took. “Sorry,” I said.
“Like you mean it.”
“You’re being a jackass,” I said.
William shrugged.
“Sorry,” I said again.
He grinned and put the beaker down. “So, amigo, you want to do something after school today?”
“I’m still grounded.”
“Fuck that. We just made up! You can’t leave me hanging now. We’ll go see a movie or something. I’ll drive you home after.”
I could see how much it meant to him and how crushed he would be if I turned him down. Besides, I’d snuck out that time to see Maribel and had gotten away with it, so maybe I could pull it off again.
“Sure,” I told William. “No problem.”
THE SECOND I got home that day my mom stood up from the couch and said, “Se?ora Rivera called me.”
That was it. Nothing about where I had been or why I was so late getting home. Nothing about my grounding. I put my backpack on the floor.
My mom frowned. She was twisting a bracelet around her wrist.
“Why?” I asked. Was it Maribel? I wondered all of a sudden. Had something happened to her?
My mom looked like she was about to say something, but then she stopped herself. “We should probably wait for your father.”
“But why?”
“We should talk to you together.”
Now I was really worried. “Can’t you just tell me now? Is something wrong?”
My mom searched my face. Her eyes were heavy and tired and the makeup around them was smudged, like she’d been rubbing at them.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Is Maribel okay?”
“Maybe you should go to your room, Mayor.”
“Is she okay?”
“Please, Mayor. Don’t make me say anything right now. I don’t even know what to say. Just wait until your father gets home. He and I need to talk first, and then we’ll come find you.”
“I’m just asking you if she’s okay.” That was all I wanted to know. As long as she was okay, I thought, nothing else my mom could say would matter.
“She’s fine,” my mom said. “Just—” she started, when, behind me, my dad walked in the front door.
He took one look at my mom and said, “What?”
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“What happened?”
“Mayor, go to your room. We’ll come see you in a minute.”
“Papi’s home now. Why can’t I just stay here?”
“Mayor, please,” my mom said.
My dad cast his gaze at me. “You heard her,” he said. “Go.”
Angrily, I dragged my backpack across the carpet toward my room.
“Pick it up!” my mom screamed.
Without turning around, I snatched it off the floor and went to my room. I heard my dad say, “Celia, what the hell?” before I shut the door.
I sat on my unmade bed with my elbows on my knees. I got up and kicked my shoes off into the corner. I tried to listen through the door, but I couldn’t hear anything. From my pants pocket, my phone vibrated, and when I checked it William had sent me a text. “good movie. Ur mom mad?”
I wrote back: “dont know. sent me 2 my room.”
William: “haha. *.”
Me: “ttyl.”
I turned off my phone and threw it on my dresser.
After an eternity, my parents knocked on my door and came in. I could see right away that my mom had been crying. She was clutching a used tissue in one hand, and she stood with her body half hidden behind my dad, who had a dark look in his eyes. I stood in my socks, facing them, waiting for the news, whatever it was.
“We received a call,” my dad said, his voice stony.
“I already told him that part,” my mom said.