“Definitely both,” Marco said. He looked at the picture again and realized he was staring at his dad.
“Is everything okay with your dad? Did he lift your punishment?”
There was a pause. Marco stared at the picture without looking away. Elena saw a teardrop stain the page. Then another. She waited, frozen, not knowing why he was crying anymore. They weren’t happy tears.
Marco shut the book. He held a hand to his face.
“It’s okay,” Elena said. “Crying’s okay. You don’t have to hide it.”
Marco cried more, silent tears. She didn’t know why that made it worse. He looked up at her. “Are you really being nice to me right now?”
Elena forced a smile. She leaned forward and, without thinking twice, wiped Marco’s cheek just like he’d wiped hers the night she’d fought with her dad. His eyes widened.
“Is everything okay?” Elena asked.
Marco shook his head. “I hate him,” he said. “I hate him for what he did and for making me worry about him right now.”
“Is your grandfather okay?’
“Not Vovô,” Marco said. Elena realized she hadn’t moved her hand way. She caught another tear. “My dad’s sick. He didn’t tell anyone, but he’s getting treatment. He leaves the house early and comes back late so we don’t see him throw up or sleep the day away. I saw him the other day, and he’s losing his hair. He looks pale and, god, it’s really hard to hate him right now.”
“Cancer,” Elena said. She sighed. “Just because someone’s sick doesn’t mean our feelings toward them, good or bad, go away. They just get tangled up with guilt. It’s not easy. I’m sorry. I don’t think it gets easier.”
She remembered watching her dad getting worse and worse. It wasn’t this sort of disease, but it had still been a disease. And during that time Elena had felt the same way, hating him some days, and worrying he wouldn’t wake up on others.
Then, without a word, Elena wrapped her arms around Marco. He nestled his head against her. There was nothing romantic about it. It was familiar but also comforting, what she guessed it meant to have a shoulder to cry on. Elena said nothing as he cried more. She held him there, knowing words weren’t enough, and that she’d never feel what he felt, not exactly.
Marco stopped crying at some point. Elena stared at the table, both their glasses of orange juice practically untouched. He eased out of the hug quietly, as he wiped the remaining tears on his cheeks.
He looked lost, staring at the book, the walls, anything but her. When he did finally look at her, Elena could only think about wanting to hug him again.
“Please don’t tell anyone about my dad being sick,” he said. Now he looked like all he wanted to do was sleep. “Thank you for the book and for listening.”
“No problem.”
Elena didn’t want to ask, but she did. “Are you and Cecilia together?”
“Not right now,” Marco said. And that felt like a punch to her stomach. He held a hand out like he might say something else, but before he could, the bells downstairs rung.
“That must be Will and my dad,” she said. She sighed. “I told him we broke up, so you should go. I don’t want him to think we’re back together. Also, obviously don’t worry about the rest of the money. We won’t need to cover any future rent. And I hope your dad gets better.”
Marco nodded and he walked to the door. He walked out right as Will walked through the inside entrance. Elena grabbed Marco’s glass and took a sip. She handed the other cup out to Will.
He gave her a curious look, taking off his jacket as her dad entered the apartment too.
“You stood here and waited with orange juice?”
Elena shook her head. “I had a guest,” she said.
Will nodded. He took the cup. “Did you guys talk?”
Elena waved at her dad. He moved quickly, removing his jacket too, and then taking Will’s. “I’ll hang these up,” he said. Then he disappeared behind the coat closet.
“We did,” Elena said. “And I think that was our last talk.”
She figured then that once she left San Mateo, she’d leave her short time with Marco Silva behind too. The only reminder would be the one transfer between their bank accounts, and a video that would always be looping around the internet.
Chapter 29
Marco lay on his bed, thinking only about all the questions he hadn’t asked Elena.
Where are you moving?
Is this the last time we’ll see each other?
Why did you quit Melo’s?
Do you love Will?
Why didn’t you ask me to stay?
He threw aside a pillow to make room for himself and the questions looming around him. He finally gave up tossing and turning, and flicked his lamp on.
He sat on the edge of his bed and picked up the phone he’d left charging. There were three notifications. Two texts and a new email.
He opened the first text.
Lucas: Vovô landed. I’m picking him up. Want to join?
Marco sent back a quick no. wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his grandfather, it was just that he didn’t want to ask him to confirm what Lucas had said. He knew his vovô didn’t lie, not to him. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the truth so soon.
Marco read the other text.
Cecilia: I know it’s late. But can we meet?
Marco hadn’t heard from Cecilia since the tango exhibition. They’d had fun that night, like they’d had before she went away for a year. Well, he’d had fun until he’d seen Elena and Will dancing together. He’d kept his smile on for Cecilia, but maybe the night hadn’t been as fun as he remembered.
Marco got up. He changed out of his sweats and into something more appropriate to wear to meet Cecilia. No matter what he wore he knew he would be underdressed compared to her. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
Yes. Where you want to meet?
Cecilia: I’m visiting a friend in the area. Want a ride?
Marco hated that he still had to be driven around. But he wasn’t going to ask his dad to end that punishment. That would mean he’d actually have to talk to his dad. Thinking about it now, though, he figured why his dad had gotten mad when he’d kicked Marco out. Marco knew his dad well enough to know he wouldn’t tell Abby right away, not about something like cancer. Felipe Silva fought his own battles until he knew he couldn’t anymore. Which meant he’d known about the cancer, and Abby wanting to start a family had been the reason he’d had to tell her the truth.
Marco tossed the thought aside.
He sent Cecilia a yes and then slipped his shoes on. Then he remembered the email notification. He opened it up. It was short, from his mom.
Marco,
I’m going to be in Glensford earlier than I thought. I land tonight. I would love to see you. If you need anything though, let me know. I hope things are going well with you and Elena. Maybe I’ll get to meet her too.
Love,
Mom
Marco thought about what Lucas had said, that their mom could visit them, but she didn’t; she hadn’t when he’d been unconscious after his accident. It was obviously a lie. Which meant Marco should face Vovô tomorrow and ask him about it. Not tonight, though. Tonight, after a long time, he finally had a chance to tell Cecilia how he felt, at least how he thought he felt. After seeing Elena, his mind was everywhere.
Marco typed a quick response back to his mom.
Mom,
I’d love to see you. As for Elena, that fizzled out. Merry early Christmas. Let me know. I’d still love to see you.
Marco stared at the response. He scrolled through his phone and attached a picture of their family Christmas tree he’d taken after Abby had set it up. Marco selected it, then hit send. He narrowed his eyes. He’d sent something else too, by accident, his most recent note.
He clicked on it. No. No.
It was the terms he’d made with Elena. He hit the screen, trying to retrieve the note. Then stopped. He
sent his mom another email.
Ignore the note. It was a joke between me and Elena.
His mom wouldn’t do anything with the note, but still it’d be embarrassing for him to have to explain to her that he’d faked his whole relationship with Elena. He’d explain it to her if he she asked, though.
Marco’s phone buzzed
Cecilia: Outside
He rushed out of his room and headed downstairs. He bumped into a shoulder as he made it to the first floor. He looked up, expecting to see Greg or Abby. Instead, he saw the ghost of his dad.
Felipe Silva looked like he hadn’t slept in too long of a time. Marco could see the spots on his dad’s head where hair was falling out. His eyes had no life in them.
“Sorry,” Marco said.
Felipe stared at him, his face unfocused. “Going for a drive again?” He took in a deep breath. “Abby didn’t tell me. The auto shop where she got her car repaired called and asked if we wanted a special offer for future accidents.”
“I wasn’t responsible,” Marco said. “I drove, but I didn’t crash.”
“I’m not going to yell at you,” Felipe said. “Just go, wherever it is you’re off to.” His voice held no power.
Marco watched his dad now, wondering if he knew his ex-wife was coming to Glensford. Lucas had probably already told him.
Then a question slipped out, one he didn’t want to ask. “How are you feeling?”
The tired anger in his dad’s expression changed. He sighed. “You know, don’t you? Who told you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Marco said. “The point is, it wasn’t you.” He didn’t want to fight and so he changed his tone. Cecilia was waiting outside and he also didn’t really want to have a conversation with his dad right now. “I know I’m not your favorite son, but I also know Lucas is busy these days. And while I can’t drive you anywhere or do much, if there’s something I can do, let me know.”
Felipe just stared at him, like he’d spoken another language. Marco moved a step closer to the door. “Goodnight,” he added. Then he turned and almost ran out to Cecilia’s car. She’d parked it right in front of the driveway, and was waving at him as he approached. Marco was half-frozen by the time he made it to the passenger seat. He shut the door and let his body thaw out for a few seconds.
“Cold?” Cecilia asked, half-laughing. She turned the heat up. “So, up for a drive?”
“Sure,” Marco said. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Cecilia said. “Not really. I just, I’ve gotten used to hanging out with Will close to this time, and now I can’t sit still at home. And we haven’t really had a chance to hang out since I got back, so I thought why not ask you to help ease my loneliness?” She said it like it was meant to be a joke, but her eyes filled with sadness the second she’d finished talking.
“You liked him a lot, huh?” Marco asked. Cecilia nodded.
“He was everything a guy should be,” Cecilia said. “Well, I thought he was, but they never are, are they?” She looked away from the road as they made it to the front gates. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”
Marco shook his head. He didn’t want to be at home, but he also didn’t want to see people out somewhere. “Why don’t we stop at some drive thru and eat in your car? We can just talk if you want.”
Cecilia nodded. “I want coffee. There’s a Melo’s down the road.” She said it like he didn’t know, like Marco’s family didn’t own the chain.
“Sounds great,” Marco lied. They pulled up to the drive thru. He ordered the same coffee as Cecilia and then she parked away from the cafe, behind a closed store, in an empty lot.
“So,” Cecilia said. “This is fun.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought this would help, but it’s only making me think of Will more. I’m going through these cycles of missing him, hating him, liking him, and then wanting to punch him.”
She took a sip of her coffee. Marco tried to do the same but ended up burning his mouth. He set the coffee down in her cup holder.
“Tell me,” he said. Because he was tired of not asking her this. He didn’t want to hear about Will tonight. “Did our kiss mean anything to you?”
Cecilia set her coffee down too. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that. I thought you wouldn’t because you had Elena, that maybe you were over me, but-”
“You know I like you then,” he said.
“I guessed after that kiss,” Cecilia said. She pressed her hair back behind her ears. It was still platinum blond, but her more golden roots where growing out. It looked nice on her.
“Did it mean anything?”
“The end of a great friendship,” Cecilia said.
Marco shifted in his seat. “You kissed me back.”
“Only because it felt like I should, like if I didn’t I might not see you again.”
“You left the next day. We didn’t talk for a year.”
“That was something else entirely,” Cecilia said. “It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me wanting to leave everything in this stupid city behind.” She paused. “I don’t want to talk about that. But I guess you deserve some sort of answer. I did think about that kiss when I was gone, not often, but when I got lonely. I thought about whether or not I should date you and keep you close that way, or if I should let you go, break your heart until you stopped liking me.”
“So you don’t like me?” Marco asked.
“Not that way,” Cecilia said. “You were always my friend. And I realized I’d never been just a friend to you. That you wouldn’t want that offer.”
Marco watched the steam rise from his coffee. “You thought I’d stop talking to you because you didn’t want anything romantic?” She nodded quickly. Maybe she was right. He’d only seen Cecilia as the girl he wanted to date; she’d seen him as a friend.
“Why do you like me?” Cecilia asked. “Really think about it.”
“You’re beautiful,” Marco said. “You’re cultured, intelligent, talented, exciting-”
Cecilia laughed. “I’m none of those things. Okay, I’ll give you that I’m apparently appealing by our modern standards, but the other stuff, it’s in your head. If you got to know me, and I mean really know me, you’d know I hate airplanes. I wish people would stop asking about where I’ve been to, or what languages I speak. All those talents you think I have I hate. They remind me my parents sent me off to extra lessons after school or to camps so they wouldn’t have to see me. I’m not exciting. I hate that word. It makes me feel like I can’t be sad, like I have to be constantly making people feel alive when they talk me to.” She sighed, waving her hands. “This is a perfectly polished act. This version of me, the sad girl drinking coffee in her car, with absolutely no self-respect, that’s me. I’m pining after a guy, who, for the first time, I didn’t have to pretend around. I hurt your feelings on purpose. And I really wanted to hurt Elena’s when I figured out how much Will liked her. I’m not a good person. I don’t think I’m terrible, but whatever version of me you have in your head, it’s not real.”
Cecilia leaned back in her seat. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. “You’re not going to say anything?”
Marco didn’t know this version of Cecilia, the real version, the human one. “I’m sorry,” he said, “for kissing you and for thinking you owed me anything.” He held his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry Will broke your heart and that I’ve spent the last five years idolizing you without knowing it. That kind of pressure must suck.”
Cecilia laughed again. “Most guys I’ve dated do the same thing. It must be a trend.” She pressed a hand to Marco’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for not telling you this sooner. Part of me always knew you liked me, but I ignored it because I thought you’d get over it. That, eventually, I could keep you around as my friend.”
“Do you want to be friends?”
Cecilia shrugged. “Do you still have feelings for me?”
Marco looked at his coffee. “I don’t think
so. I think I could be very good friends with this version of you, though.”
Cecilia smiled. “You’ve changed,” she said. “In a good way.”
Marco smiled back. He held up his coffee as if to make a toast. “To new friendships?”
“To new friendships.”
Chapter 30
Elena taped the box shut, then wrapped it with was left of her snowman-patterned wrapping paper.
She looked around her new room. It was empty except for the air mattress she’d borrowed from Will. She hadn’t even built the new bookcase her dad had given her as an early Christmas present. She grabbed Will’s present and went back out to the living room. He stood by the miniature Christmas tree he’d brought as a housewarming gift.
“You wrapped that in like thirty seconds,” he said. Elena set the wrapped box under the tree. Well, next to it. The box was about a hand or so taller.
“It’s a handy skill,” Elena said. She looked around for her dad. Their living room was finally coming together, their old sofa and a mismatched beanbag chair from her dad’s old room. The moving company wouldn’t be here with the rest of their furniture until after New Year’s.
“Your dad’s picking up takeout for our Christmas dinner,” Will said. He pointed to the tree. “Since you already opened my present, can I open yours?”
Elena nodded. In fact, she’d rather he open it before her dad got back. “Go ahead.”
Will grabbed the box and carefully unwrapped it. He broke past the tape to reveal a purple fabric. “A hoodie? Denim jackets are more my style but-” He glanced at the logo. It was for Tisch, NYU’s film school. He looked at Elena. “I don’t know if I’ve gotten in. And I told you I want to stay here. Besides, tuition there is insane.”
“If you get in,” Elena said, “you can use the Melo’s Coffee employee tuition program. They have Melo’s in NYC too. As long as you work part-time, they cover half of the tuition. I checked with Lucas. He confirmed it. I’m sure it’ll still be insanely expensive, but there’ll be scholarships and financial aid.” She paused. “And even if you don’t get in this year, you have next year and the year after that. I’m not saying you can’t stay here, but if the only reason you’re staying is because you’re afraid you’ll lose the family you have here, then go. We’ll be here. And we can visit.”
Call It One-Sided Page 20