She finishes off the last bit of pineapple on her kabob. “I think I might.” She watches him as he climbs over the fence that borders the Wheelers’ backyard. Once he reaches the other side he edges his way down to the crashing waves below.
Mindy and I both start laughing as Dawson jumps into the murky water. That water is really not for swimming, but such details don’t seem to deter Dawson. He climbs back over the fence and dives into the pool.
She looks back at me. “Charlie’s going to kill me for telling you this, but he really likes you.”
My eyes immediately go to where Charlie is talking to Dawson in the pool. “No he doesn’t.”
“Yes. He does,” Mindy says. “He talks about you all the time.”
“Well, why hasn’t he ever said anything?”
“Because he’s so insecure about it. He thinks you still have a thing for Jay.”
“I don’t,” I say automatically, trying to process what she’s just told me. Charlie Wheeler likes me? Talks about me all the time?
“You should tell him that then. I mean, if you want him to know. But don’t tell him I said anything. He would be so mad at me.”
She pops the last grape from her skewer into her mouth. “Anyway, I’m going for it. You should too.” She gets up, takes her plate over to the nearby garbage can, strides over to the pool and jumps in. I see her swimming over to where Dawson is now lying on a raft in the middle of the pool. His antics must have exhausted him. Mindy swims under the raft and topples him over.
I laugh and silently wish her luck. If it’s Dawson she wants, I hope she gets him. I look over at Charlie, who is on the diving board. He looks over at me and smiles before making a perfect dive. I smile back and fiddle absentmindedly with the fruit kabob on my plate.
Charlie Wheeler likes me.
Do I like him back?
I used to like him for very simple reasons: he’s good-looking and friendly.
But friendly is too surface-level a term to describe him. He is kind and giving, and he’s never made me feel like I am beneath him. He listens, he’s curious, he can admit when he’s wrong.
My reasons have evolved, but my feelings are the same.
“Hey,” Chloe says, sliding into the chair beside me. “Would you totally hate me if I leave now and head over to Tim Condie’s party with Ivan and Jay?”
“Of course not. Go if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure? You should come.”
“Nah. I’m going to stay here.” I think about telling Chloe what Mindy has just told me, but it’s too soon. I’m barely processing the idea in my head, and I don’t feel like I can talk about it yet. Tomorrow. I will call Chloe tomorrow and tell her everything. Right now, I just have to figure out what I’m going to do.
“Okay, love you, Mil.” Chloe pulls her wraparound on over her bathing suit and gives me a quick hug before heading over to Ivan and Jay. Together, the three of them exit the patio. I briefly think of all the wet footprints that my classmates are tracking in and out of the Wheelers’ house, which my mom will have to mop up later.
I’m starting to get cold; the Corpus wind intensified as the sun went down. I walk across the yard where I left my sundress and towel. I slip the dress over my still wet bathing suit, grab another plate of food, and sit down on a lawn chair to people-watch. The party started with more than fifty people from our graduating class, but as the evening progressed, it’s whittled down to about twenty. I guess most of the others have headed to Tim Condie’s party, with his ice chest full of beer and whatever else he’s managed to sneak into his house.
I look back at the pool, where Mindy and Dawson are both lying on a double raft. He’s saying something with wildly gesturing hands, and she’s laughing.
“Hey,” Charlie says as he approaches me. He’s wiping his face with a beach towel, and water’s dripping off his hair, down to his chest. “Hope you’re having a good time.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” I’m not even lying. I appreciate how low-key this party has been.
He looks around the yard, at the pool. “Is Chloe still here?”
“No, she went to Tim’s with Jay and Ivan.”
He laughs. “I guess a lot of people have headed over there. It’s okay. Most of the people I really care about are still here.” He does a double take. “Unless you’re going to Tim’s too?”
“No. Have you met my mom? She would kill me.”
Charlie puts his towel down on the table and starts twisting one end of it. “Are you upset that Jay left?” he asks.
“No. Why would I be upset?”
He keeps his eyes down on the towel in front of him. “It looked like you guys were having fun together.”
“Not really. He’s . . . we’ve just been hanging out a bit because Chloe and Ivan are about to get together, I think. So, you know. Jay and Ivan are like joined at the hip.”
“Oh. It looked like maybe he wants to get back together with you.”
I look down at the twisted-up towel in Charlie’s hand. “He does, but I told him no. I just don’t like him like that anymore.”
Charlie smiles. “I don’t blame the guy for trying. But . . . I’m glad he didn’t succeed.”
His words summon a host of butterflies to my stomach. I don’t know what to say in return and am saved from having to think of something when Dawson and Mindy come up to us. Dawson has his arm around Mindy, who’s beaming.
“Hey, man,” Dawson says. He starts shaking his head, tossing drops of water at all of us and onto the table.
Charlie laughs and wipes his face with the towel. “Don’t tell me. You guys are bailing on me for Tim’s party.”
“No way,” Dawson says. “I’m going to take Mindy on my dad’s boat. You guys want to come?”
I smile at Mindy, happy that she went for it.
“I’m not going to leave my own party, Daws. There are still people here,” Charlie says.
Dawson looks around, as if noticing for the first time that the yard isn’t empty. “Well, sorry to bail, but I want to get the boat out before midnight. Otherwise, I can’t call it a midnight cruise.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie says. “The party’s winding down anyway, but I have to stay and clean up.”
“We should stay and help him clean up!” Mindy says, turning to Dawson.
“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie says. “You guys go.”
“I’ll help him clean up,” I say.
“No,” he says, turning to me. “I can handle it. It’s not a big deal. Just a few soda cans.” He looks back at Dawson and Mindy. “You two enjoy your midnight cruise.”
Once they’ve disappeared into the house, Charlie says, “Wow. When did that happen?”
“Mindy and Dawson? Like, ten minutes ago, I think.”
Charlie smiles in a sort of baffled way. “Huh. How did I miss that?”
“You were busy hosting a party.”
“Yeah, that’s a good excuse. Let’s go with that.”
It’s after eleven. The last few guests emerge from the pool, stopping to thank and hug Charlie on their way out.
I know he said he didn’t want me to help clean up, but there’s no way I’m leaving the entire mess for him. Without saying anything, I get up from the table and pick up the garbage can behind me. I take out the half-filled bag and start walking around the patio, picking up stray cups, plates.
“Don’t, Millie,” Charlie says, jumping to his feet. “You shouldn’t have to clean up.”
I push the garbage bag behind my back before he can reach for it. “I want to, Charlie. Let me help you. As a friend.”
“But you’re my guest.”
“I live here too.” I pick up a half-empty can of Sprite. “Besides, it’s a beautiful night. I’d rather hang out here than go to bed. And if I stay out here, I’m not just going to sit on my butt and watch you clean up the whole yard.”
We spend the next fifteen minutes scouring the yard for balled-up napkins an
d empty soda cans, and then walk the garbage out to the bins by the side of the house. Charlie fishes out aluminum cans and puts them into the recycling bin.
I walk around to the back again and make my way to the edge of the yard, by the fence.
Charlie joins me, whistling the commencement tune that played at our graduation. He leans his back against the fence, facing away from the bay. I smile at him, feeling a rare confidence.
“I used to have a crush on you, you know,” I say.
I see his eyes widen slightly in the dark. “When?”
“When we were twelve. We came here for Caroline’s first birthday party. Your mom had been so nice to invite our family; it was the first time I’d ever come to your house. And I thought you were pretty cool.” I say the word cool in a playful voice, letting it roll off my tongue.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yeah right,” I say, laughing. “Like a twelve-year-old girl would ever tell a twelve-year-old boy who is way out of her league that she likes him.”
“Out of your league? If anything, you’re way out of my league. Or maybe we’re in the exact same league.”
He takes a step closer to me, his back sliding along the fence, his face turned toward me. “I’ve liked you too, Millie, but I felt like everything I did annoyed you. I felt like you were uncomfortable with how we knew each other, that your mom works here, and figured it was just easier if we didn’t really talk to each other.”
“That’s all true,” I say, finally admitting it to myself. It’s always been easier not to talk to Charlie, not to be his friend, because time spent with him reminds me that he’s privileged in ways I will never be, that his family has power over mine, even if he doesn’t see it that way. “That’s why I crushed my crush.”
“I can’t believe you had a crush on twelve-year-old me. I was a skinny dork with buck teeth.”
I laugh, remembering his slight overbite prior to his stint with braces. “I thought you were cute.”
“Past tense?”
“Well . . . would I be standing here next to you if I didn’t still think so?”
“I mean, maybe you’re standing right here for the view.”
I look out past his shoulder at the view of the bay, the rising waves that crash and fall over and over again. “I’ve seen that view a thousand times,” I say, turning back to him.
He stands up straight and turns his whole body toward me.
“I’m not here for the view either.” He softly traces his fingers up and down my arms. I feel a slight shiver shoot up my arms and neck. The Corpus wind does nothing like this to me.
His hands come to rest on my elbows, and he very gently pulls me toward him. My hands wrap around his waist, and his fingers move from my elbows to my back. I’m about to kiss Charlie Wheeler. Twelve-year-old me never thought this could happen.
His lips press against mine, firm and fast. He turns his head to the side, and his kiss softens, slows down as his hand moves up to my neck, and he gently wraps his fingers around the back of it.
“Millie!” Mami shouts my name from the steps of the patio, and I hear the door slam closed behind her.
I pull away from Charlie and pry my hands from his waist. His hand falls from my neck.
“I’d better go in,” I say.
He nods and avoids looking toward Mami, who is waiting for me on the patio. I don’t know why she sounds so mad. It’s not like I’ve never kissed a boy. And Mami trusts me; she knows I’m a Catholic girl at heart, and that her teachings about waiting to have sex weren’t lost on me.
Still, she’s practically glaring at me as I walk past her into the house. She signals for me to follow her through the house and out the front door. We walk to her car parked out front and silently, we slide into the front seats.
“No se ve bien, mija,” she starts. It doesn’t look right. It’s a statement I’ve heard my entire life. Before Papi died, when we could afford to occasionally go out to a restaurant, Mami would never send back food, always eating the meal without complaint no matter how badly the cook or the server messed it up. Because sending it back would give the appearance of angling for a discount or a freebie.
“Que pasó, Mami?” I ask her, turning in my seat to look at her. It’s stifling in the car because she hasn’t turned it on.
“It doesn’t look right for you and Charlie to be kissing while we’re guests in his parents’ house.”
“This was the first time, Mami. It’s not like we’ve been kissing.”
She ignores this. “You know I like Charlie. Of course I do, and I can’t think of a nicer boy for you, but Millie, not while we’re living in the Wheelers’ house. How would that look? If people think that you and Charlie are dating, and they know you live in his house. What would they say? What would they think?”
I want to tell her that I don’t care what they think, but that’s not the kind of thing you tell Mami. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t want anyone thinking that about you, mija. Or about Charlie. There are so many people looking at the Wheelers right now with the Senate race. Charlie needs to be careful too. It’s better if you just stay friends for now. No dating, no kissing, while we’re living here.”
I know there’s no arguing with Mami. Once she’s made up her mind about something, once she’s given me a directive, I obey without question or hesitation. On one level, her concerns make sense to me, but on another level, I feel that as long as I know I’m not doing anything wrong, it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
“Sorry, mija, but that’s the way it has to be. I’m hoping it won’t be much longer, but as long as we are guests in this home, you and Charlie cannot date each other.”
I nod. “Can I go talk to Charlie? Explain everything to him?”
“Está bien, mija,” she says. She stays put as I get out of the car and walk back to the house. She’s not going to chaperone me. That’s a sign that she trusts me, knows I will make good choices. Which of course has always guaranteed my absolute obedience—after all, how could I disobey her when she’s placed so much faith in me?
≈
Charlie is still in the yard, almost exactly where I left him. He searches my face as I approach.
“Is she upset?” he asks.
“No. She just thinks it doesn’t look right for us to be kissing while my family is staying here. She just wants to protect my reputation. And yours. Reputation is a huge thing to Latina mothers, especially Catholic Latina mothers.”
He crosses his arms, leans back against the fence again. “So, I’m not allowed to ask you on a date or kiss you until your family has moved out? That, Millie, is a double-edged sword. If I want to date you, I have to want you to move out, which I don’t. At all. But if I want you to stay, so that I get to see your beautiful face first thing each morning, I won’t be able to date you. Which one do I wish for? Because I want them both.”
“Charlie,” I say firmly, “my family has to move out at some point. The sooner the better. So it’s not really a question.”
This seems to take him aback. I wonder if he actually thought that we were just going to stay here forever, that Mami would become the live-in housekeeper and nanny, that Caroline would have a permanent playmate in Ceci. A rich person’s version of a happy family, where the devoted help is always available.
“Well, I guess in a way this is a positive development then,” he says, and his smile has a hint of mischief in it. “Now that your mom’s said we can’t date, I feel pretty confident that you do want to date me.”
I smile in spite of myself, knowing that my smile borders on flirtation, but I can’t smile any other way at the moment. It’s hard to keep my resolve when I can see that he wants to kiss me again, when I know that I want to kiss him again. But I am Sandra Vargas’s daughter, and I don’t go back on my word to my mother.
“You know my mother almost as well as I do . . .”
“Yes, and that is why I will not cross her.” He’s still smil
ing. I’m relieved that he’s being understanding, that he doesn’t seem resentful. “Your mom is such a good mom, and you’re such a good daughter.”
“I am a good daughter. It’s one of my biggest flaws.”
Charlie laughs. “The minute you move out, though, I’m asking you out on a date. Will you say yes?”
His announcement comes barreling toward my stomach and sends the butterflies that have been fluttering around down there into high speed.
“Yeah.”
He grabs the fence in front of us with both hands and leans forward against it, his eyes still on me. “How can I say good night right now without kissing you good night?”
I look up toward the house and see the dimly lit window where Mami sleeps; a shadow passes slowly across it. “Save the good-night kiss for the doorstep of my new home.”
“Can I at least walk you inside, to your door?”
“Yeah, but no hand-holding,” I say, turning to walk toward the house.
“How did you know I wanted to hold your hand?”
“Lucky guess.”
Chapter Twenty
When I walk into the kitchen the next morning, Charlie’s at the table, eating cereal with Javi. His blue eyes light up the moment he sees me, and it makes me blush because Sele is in here too, rinsing her bowl in the sink.
“Good morning,” Charlie says to me, his eyes following me from the entryway all the way into the kitchen and to the chair across from him.
“Good morning,” I reply, meeting his eyes for just a minute before I reach over to get a bowl. “Where’s Mami?” I ask Sele.
“She went to get groceries. She’ll be back in a few hours.” Sele wipes her hand on a kitchen towel. “I’m about to watch a movie in the family room with the girls.”
As she heads out of the kitchen, Javi takes this opportunity to ask, “Charlie, can I borrow your Xbox again?”
“Sure thing, bud. It’s in its usual spot in my room.”
“Thanks!” Javi bolts from his chair without finishing his cereal.
“Just don’t mind the unmade bed,” Charlie says.
“Maybe you can make his bed for him in exchange for him letting you play,” I say to Javi.
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