* * *
At around three o'clock, Mom and I had just finished changing into some clean clothes when the doorbell rang. “I got it, Mom!” I yelled, running to the front door. I plastered a huge smile on my face, preparing to greet my girlfriend, but when I threw the door open, I was surprised to see Marissa was not alone. Standing next to her was a plump, middle-aged Hispanic woman I could only assume was her mother.
“Hi, Ayden,” she said gently, trying not to appear too 'friendly' in front of her mom.
“Uh, hi.” My eyes were locked on Mrs. Ramos.
“May we come in?” her mother asked, smiling politely at me.
“Um, sure,” I said, composing myself.
Just then, Mom walked up behind me, having finished putting on a touch of makeup and her favorite teardrop earrings. She, too, gave a startled smile at the sight of my girlfriend, looking gorgeous in her stylish blue dress with white polka dots, and her mother. “Marissa! So good to see you! Is this your mom?”
“Hola.” Mrs. Ramos extended her hand. “You must be Mrs. Saunders.”
Mom took her hand and shook it. “I am! But please, call me Colleen.”
She nodded. “Colleen. Call me Carmen.”
Mom opened the door all the way and gestured for them to enter. “Well, Carmen, Marissa, welcome to Casa de Saunders! Come on in!”
We all sat down in our living room, which still smelled of Lemon Pledge. I sat as far away from Marissa as I could, hoping she'd understand my reason for caution. As far as I knew, her folks still didn't know how close we'd become, and I didn't want to give us away. I prayed Mom didn't either.
“Sorry about the smell, we just got done cleaning,” Mom apologized with a trace of irony in her voice. “We lost a roommate recently.”
Mrs. Ramos smiled warmly. “So we heard. How's your head, Ayden?”
I instinctively lifted my hand to my forehead. I'd forgotten to put a fresh bandage on it. Oh man, this must look hideous. Suddenly self-conscious, I stammered, “Uh, it's fine.”
“What can we do for you?” Mom asked, saving me further embarrassment for now.
“Marissa, querida, would you like to explain?” Mrs. Ramos asked.
Marissa faced both of us. “We'd like to invite you over for Thanksgiving dinner. If you don't already have plans, that is.”
My eyes widened, and I cast a glance at Mom, who seemed to be equally flattered by the offer. “At your house?” I asked Marissa.
“Yes, Ayden, at our house,” she said matter-of-factly. “I know it's just you and your mom, and I thought it might be fun if you guys could join us, so I asked my mom and dad if we could invite you over.”
I was speechless. This was just another reason why I loved Marissa so much.
Mom was the first to recover her voice. “That's … very kind of you. We're both truly honored by your gracious offer. But we don't want to inconvenience you.”
Mrs. Ramos smiled again, her rosy cheeks highlighted by a lot of makeup. “Ah, it's no inconvenience, Colleen. I promise you, we'll have enough food to feed an army.”
I looked at Marissa again, and then back to Mom. “Please, can we go?”
Under the weight of our stares, her shoulders slumped. “Oh, okay. Let me go get my coat. And a baseball cap for you, Rocky.” She winked at me.
“Thanks, Mom!” I was ecstatic.
Yay! I'm going to Marissa's house!
Where … her father lives.
Oh, balls.
* * *
Having such a tiny family, I wasn't prepared for the sheer number of relatives crammed into the Ramos household, which from the outside looked far too small to hold them. The inside seemed even smaller. Kids of various ages ran from room to room, ignoring every shouted remark yelled in their direction to slow down. Many of the older women were in the kitchen, the older men were in the backyard chatting or smoking, and the ones in between were relaxing on chairs or sofas in every room that made up the downstairs.
I finally got to meet Marissa's big sister Lisa, who actually looked a lot like Michelle – if Michelle was four years older and with a darker complexion – and she was really nice, giving me a friendly welcome. Her little brother Ricardo, on the other hand, was every bit the brat I'd heard about. When he wasn't tearing through every room in the house with the rest of the bored kids, he was right next to me, giving me the stink-eye.
Mom and I met so many people that I knew I wouldn't be able to remember any of their names. Aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, two grandmothers and one grandfather, they were all there. Some of them didn't speak English very well, so I just tried to be the perfect guest by nodding and smiling as I was introduced to them. Finally, Marissa and I were able to score a spot on the couch in the den, where there was nothing to do but watch a couple of Marissa's teenage cousins play video games. They barely paid us any mind.
Checking once again to make sure no adults were watching us, I leaned over and whispered, “Marissa, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if your parents find out we're boyfriend and girlfriend? What will your father say?” I hadn't met him yet, but I had no doubt I would before the night was out. I hoped I had the stamina not to faint.
“I don't know, Ayden. But whatever happens, I'll be there with you. I promise.” She slipped her hand into mine, and gave me one of her beautiful smiles. It was amazing. Somehow, after seeing that smile, no problem ever seemed that bad anymore. That smile could melt an iceberg.
Maybe she's right. I've stopped hiding who I am, and maybe it's time we stopped hiding who WE are. And what we are … are a guy and a girl who care very deeply for each other. If Mr. Ramos blows his stack, then so be it. I can handle it.
Unless, of course, he just shoots me.
We spent the next twenty minutes on the sofa, not speaking. Then we heard shouted words coming from the dining room: “Ven y cógelo!”
Immediately, we heard the stir of people stand and make their way through the house, toward the dining room. We stood too.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Marissa smiled. “It means 'come and get it'.”
* * *
After an hour's worth of eating and listening to conversations I only understood about ten percent of, I was glad when Marissa took my hand and led me to her well-lit backyard, where we sat down in a couple of patio chairs next to a nice outdoor table.
Mom and Mrs. Ramos seemed to be getting along great. I could tell she was happy to be in a room full of friendly people, as it gave her the chance to show off her charm and her personality, something she was really good at after years of being a server at Romano's. I imagined Marissa and I were the topic of much of their conversation, but grown-up talk was not something I was interested in, so I was thankful to get away from it for a while and share a quiet moment with my girlfriend.
“Man, you've got a big family,” I said, listening to the loud rumble of conversation still emanating from the house.
“Yeah, I know, it can be overwhelming. Most people who've never been to a Mexican Thanksgiving are.”
“It does take some getting used to.”
Just then, a water balloon sailed through the air, splattering on the ground about ten feet away from us. We looked up to see a small figure disappear back through his open window on the second floor.
Marissa was suddenly up and irate. “Ricardo! I'm telling Mom!” We waited for his little face to reappear, but it didn't.
As she sat down with a frustrated grimace, I took her hand in mine again. “No offense, but I'm glad I don't have to deal with that every day.”
“Tell me about it.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Sometimes I wish I could move in with you.”
Uh … what? My brain went from zero to warp nine in a heartbeat, as it considered the completely ludicrous possibilities of this actually happening.
Before I could come up with a reply, however, the back door slid open and two pe
ople walked out. One was Mrs. Ramos, and the other, a stocky man with dark skin and a thick mustache, had to be Marissa's father, Armando. I straightened up immediately, shrugging Marissa off my shoulder in nervous terror as Marissa's parents took the other two chairs around the table.
Oh, crap. Here it comes. The interrogation. The moment when Riss's overprotective father tells me I'm not good enough to hang out with his daughter.
Stand your ground, Ayden. You're a superhero. You foiled a smuggling ring. You nailed a starring performance in your first school play ever. You're worthy of her. You can do this.
Squaring my shoulders, I faced them. Smiling, I said, “Thanks again for inviting me. And my Mom. The food was amazing.” This was true. I don't think I'd been this well-fed in years.
Mrs. Ramos nodded. “Gracias. I love your mother, by the way. She's a great lady. And she's so very proud of you.”
I blushed and shot a glance at Marissa, who smiled in agreement. “Will you be there on Saturday for our performance?”
“Of course,” Mr. Ramos said, his face expressionless. “You know, it's considered good manners to remove your hat when talking to one's elders.”
The baseball cap Mom gave me, which I only wore to cover the bruise on my skull, fit me so comfortably that I forgot I was even wearing it. In one quick motion, I removed it and placed it on the table in front of me.
Mr. Ramos leaned forward, examining my wound. “Marissa told us a girl at school threw a rock at her, and you put yourself in harm's way to protect her. Is that true?”
Well, Rhianna actually threw the rock at Sophie, but I wasn't about to correct him on that point. “Yes, sir,” I said as humbly as I could.
I waited for Mr. Ramos to say 'thank you,' or commend me on my incredible heroism and self-sacrifice, but instead, he just leaned back in his chair again.
“You two are more than just friends, aren't you?” asked Mrs. Ramos, her smile flattening into a straight line.
I locked eyes with Marissa again, who gave a slight nod. I turned back to face her parents again. “Yes, we are.” I reached out to Marissa, who took my hand. “I care about her. Very much.”
“She cares about you too,” Mrs. Ramos said. “Every time I clean in her room, I check to see if that valentine you gave her is still on her bulletin board. In almost two years, it's never come down.”
Now it was Marissa's turn to blush, and she fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. I could feel my own resolve disintegrating as well.
Mr. Ramos's expression softened just a little. “We're not here to judge you, Ayden.” He turned to Marissa. “Or you, querida. We've raised you to be a smart, independent young woman. And though you've made your share of mistakes –”
“Like putting your pet goldfish in the toilet while you cleaned his bowl at the same time Ricardo was potty-training,” Mrs. Ramos said with a smile.
I laughed, despite my best effort not to, covering my mouth with my hands. Marissa shot me a dirty look.
“But,” Mr. Ramos continued, “not when it comes to the really important things. Like doing well in school, and especially choosing your friends.” He looked at me, and for the first time, I didn't feel like a criminal being interrogated.
“Ayden, you've been through a lot,” Mrs. Ramos said. “And in spite of all that, you seem to be a fine young man with a good heart. There's not many kids your age who would've done what you did.”
I exhaled, visibly relieved. “Thank you.” I squeezed Marissa's hand again. “So … does this mean Riss and I can still be friends?”
“Yes,” Mr. Ramos said, quirking an eyebrow. “And if you want to call yourselves 'boyfriend and girlfriend,' you have our blessing. Just be careful not to take things too far, or our next conversation will be quite different from this one. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” I said obediently. I wasn't sure what this meant for my future with Marissa, but grudging acceptance from her parents was better than none at all.
Marissa jumped to her feet, ran over and threw her arms around her father's neck. “Thanks, papa,” she said, before doing the same to her mother. “Thanks, mama.”
“You're welcome, querida,” Mr. Ramos said.
Suddenly, another balloon landed square in the middle of our table, bursting and sending a spray of water across all four of us. Mr. Ramos leapt to his feet, glaring at the window on the second floor, where again, I saw a face disappear into the darkness. “Ricardo! Usted está en para ahora!” He nodded at the rest of us, and then strode angrily back into the house.
Using my hands as best I could, I dried the front of my shirt. Thankfully, I hadn't taken much of the blast. “Thanks, Mrs. Ramos,” I said with a friendly smile. “For everything.”
“Come on.” She rose to her feet. “There's a tres leches cake that's to die for being served in a few minutes. Join us?”
“Absolutamente,” I said with a chuckle, eliciting a laugh from both Marissa and her mother. Together, we rejoined the party, my heart light and worry-free for the first time all night.
Chapter 30
~ Day 83 (Sat., 4:00 p.m.) ~
SOPHIE
I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the sleeves on Wendy's blue cotton night-dress. Earlier today, Mom and Eve eagerly volunteered to make my hair look more “period appropriate” than my normal hairstyle, or, as Mom added as she put on the finishing touches, more “darling” – groan – for tonight's final performance, and I happily let them.
They outdid themselves. I loved my hair, which hung in delicate, golden waves, softly tumbling past my shoulders, curling into ringlets at the end. It was secured at the top with a pink bow, the kind every little girl wants in their hair during their “princess” phase. I particularly loved the way the bow held my hair away from my eyes, which stared back at me, shining and proud, from the mirror.
I looked so much younger than I felt. But I felt happy. In fact, I don't think I'd ever felt happier in my entire life.
My reverie was interrupted by a light rap on my bedroom door. I turned to see Kirsten poking her head through the doorway, her makeup perfectly placed to highlight her amazing eyes. “Hey, Soph. You ready to go?”
In the nearly three weeks since starting her drug program, she'd made good progress, at least physically. She'd gained back some of the weight she lost, and her face didn't look quite as stressed-out as before. I was glad for this, but I was still worried about the psychological damage caused by her ordeal. She hadn't taken Adderall for very long, less than two months, but it was long enough for her to become addicted. Even though her body might return to normal, I knew it would take a lot longer for the guilt and shame I saw etched into her face to go away. I hadn't spoken to her much since her treatment started, partly because I didn't want to distract her, but mostly because I still wasn't sure how she felt about me invading her room and, ultimately, telling on her to Mom and Dad.
“Almost,” I said, adjusting my sleeves in the mirror one more time, but they weren't cooperating.
“Here, let me get those.” She moved behind me, making the final adjustments while staring over my shoulder. After a few more tweaks, including tightening up the bow-strings on the ends of my short sleeves, she turned me around to face her. I saw her eyes glistening. “I am so proud of you, Sophie.”
“Thanks.” I lost myself in her smile. “Are – are you doing okay now?”
Her smile faded, and she gave an uneasy nod. Releasing me, she sat down on the edge of my bed. “Yeah, I'm all right. I just can't believe I let that happen.”
Grabbing the folds of my skirt, I took a seat next to her. “Kirsten, you made a mistake. People do that sometimes. Even you.” We locked eyes, and I tried to give her my most reassuring smile.
She stared into space. “I really thought I could handle it. I said to myself, 'Just a few pills until I get my grades back up, then I'll quit'.” She shook her head. “But by then, I was hooked. Even after I got back on track, I couldn't stop taking them.”
“You really couldn't stop?”
“You know what it felt like, Soph?” She turned to face me, a haunted look in her eyes. “Like I was watching myself become this whole other person. Someone I hated. I was losing myself, one pill at a time.”
“How'd you afford it? If you don't mind my asking.”
“I've been saving up my allowance for a while now. I found out this summer that Centralia has an awesome Leadership program that includes a trip to Washington, D.C. for a few lucky students. The thing is, you have to be at least a junior to go, and it's something I wanted to be able to afford on my own … that is, in a couple of years, when I'm eligible.”
“That's awesome, Kirsten! Are you going to run for office someday?”
“Well, I haven't planned things out that far, but it's something I'm thinking about.” She sighed heavily. “And I went through most of my savings buying those stupid pills. Guess I'll have to start over.”
“You can do it, Kirsten. And if you need a little more to go to Washington when the time comes, I'll help you.”
As I watched, her eyes brightened, and the smile returned to her face. “You'd do that for me?”
I nudged her with my shoulder, returning the smile. “Of course.”
She put her arms around me and gave me a big hug. “You are the best little sister ever, you know that?”
“Just remember that when you become President,” I said with a wry grin.
“I will, I promise.”
“You're not … mad at me?” I asked uneasily.
“For what?”
A pained look crossed my face. “I'm the one who found the pill in your room. And I'm the one who told Mom and Dad.”
She leaned back with a puzzled look. “And you think I'm mad at you for that?”
I shrugged, my brow furrowing.
She placed her hands on my shoulders, leaning in close. “Sophie, you saved me. If it weren't for you, I'd still be taking those damn pills, blowing my savings, and miserable. Mad at you? I owe you.”
Sophie's Different (James Madison Series Book 3) Page 24