Riptide

thirty




¿Que dijale?: What does it tell you?



It’s six a.m. on a Saturday morning and I should still be in bed. But today is the surf comp. Grace will be out there without me. And then there’s last night with Brianna. Blew me away. Didn’t expect things to go there again. It’s weird, kissing someone I’m not even exclusive with, and I don’t know how I feel about it. How Brianna feels about it. Making out with her so soon. I mean, kissing her is amazing—her lips are so smooth and soft. But I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do. Which sounds crazy. Everything’s crashing together all at once.

I bang around the kitchen looking for cereal.

“You trying to break my cabinets?”

I whip around, embarrassed. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

Ma adjusts the tie on her robe and bustles into the kitchen. She waves a hand at the barstools. “Take a seat. You need my migas and some coffee and some sense talked into you.”

I slump onto the barstool, exhausted. “Thanks.”

Ma goes into cooking mode and whips everything out with the ease of a person who hasn’t lost a wink of sleep. She peeks out from behind the fridge. “So, you and Grace are having problems?”

I bury my face in my arms, in a cross between exhaustion and embarrassment. Ma can read my face like a book—there’s no way I want her looking at me if we’re talking about Grace or Brianna. She’d kill me. “Yeah.”

The refrigerator door shuts. “Grace came by yesterday.”

“She did?” I sit up. “How was she?”

Ma opens the carton of eggs. “Seems like she’s having a bit of a hard time.”

I drop my head back in my arms. “That’s just Grace. She’s a drama queen.”

Bam. Ma whacks my head. Not like it hurt. Just the normal watch it gesture.

“Okay. Okay. That wasn’t nice.”

The sizzle of an egg hitting the pan is the sound of love and forgiveness. Ma says, “You know, regardless of what’s going on between you two, she could use a friend right now. I didn’t raise you to turn your back on someone in need.”

I groan. Here comes migas with a side of guilt.

The clang of the wooden spoon against the cast-iron skillet is fast-paced. Ma’s biting back words. Which makes me feel guiltier. I already feel like a louse for dating Brianna when part of me is still attracted to someone else. Now Ma is telling me what a crummy friend I’m being to Grace. But after all the crap Grace has pulled this summer, that thought irritates me.

I sit up. “What about Grace? She hasn’t been the greatest friend in the world either.”

Ma shakes the spoon at me. “Mijo, she’s not my kid. You are. Isn’t today her big moment? Her competition?”

I squirm on the stool. “Yes. But I doubt she wants me there. We aren’t exactly talking.”

Ma turns back to the stove, dumps some chorizo in with the eggs, and stirs ferociously. “Which explains the reason she stopped by yesterday. I always want to share my problems with the people in my life I don’t like or trust.”

Guilt served. Well done. Not too sure I’ll enjoy breakfast now. “But mom, what about her whole we can’t date but you can’t date anyone else either crap? And what about her going out with Damien? And she told me to date Brianna—what’s that about? It’s like she wants to hold me back but at the same time she doesn’t want me. She’s loco.”

“How do you feel about Brianna?”

Ouch. My stomach burns. “I don’t know. She’s really smart, and beautiful … ” I slump to the counter, realizing for the first time that I’m doing the same thing to Brianna that Grace has done to me. Well, sort of. Brianna deserves someone who is 100 percent into her. ’Cause she’s awesome. And I’m an idiot who’s still hung up on someone who doesn’t want me. “But … ”

Ma puts migas on two plates and sprinkles them with cotija cheese. She raises an eyebrow. “But what?”

I grab my plate and shove a bite of migas in my mouth. Then I answer, “She’s not Grace.”

Ma parks in the stool next to me. “Care to elaborate?”

I think about how I’ve made out with Brianna. That I’m not into her enough to kiss her like that. About feeling guilty, like I’m using her or something—like we’re friends with benefits, but she’s not in on the fact that this whole deal is a friend thing.

I shrug, ears burning. I screwed up big time, and Brianna doesn’t deserve this. I owe her a major apology.

But I don’t elaborate. I just say, “Not really. Besides, dating Grace isn’t going to happen. I don’t even think I really like her anymore. She’s not into me, and she’s definitely completely unavailable. So that’s that.” I think again about what her dad would do to my future career if I went after his daughter, and about possibly screwing things up for Hien. That’s a cold shower. “Really. I don’t want to date her. I just need to get over her.”

Ma’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you two still friends?”

“I don’t know. It’s all screwed up.”

Ma says, “But she wanted to talk to you yesterday.”

“She’s gone on a date with Damien. I don’t know if

I can deal with that.”

Ma points her fork at me. “Then you aren’t the boy I thought you were. Are you so innocent? Can you throw the first stone, mijo? Grace has been a good friend to you. Remember when PoPo died? Who was there for you?”

Grace.

Ma shakes her fork at me. “You’re at the age where you have to make big decisions. Keeping friends is important. Grace is important. This competition is important to her.”

“I know, I know. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

She says, “Get your rear end in your truck and hit the road.”

Even though I know that’s what I need to do, I’m worried. The two of us didn’t exactly part on good terms. “But—”

“Sometimes you rely on faith. You believe in the things you cannot see. Trust your heart. ¿Que dijale?”

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