“Yeah, or no. I don’t know,” she said. “Will was supposed to hang out with me and Mia that night. And then he ended up having a date, so I was bummed. I saw you that night and when I heard we were playing that stupid spin the bottle game, I wanted it to land on you.”
Marco reached out and grabbed her hand. Now he was the one that was mad. Why didn’t he remember saying what he’d said? Probably because he’d spent the whole year after his mom had left saying stuff he didn’t mean, but that he knew would hurt people. Maybe just not that year, but that had been him at his worst.
He pressed his fingers to Elena’s palm, his thumb against her wrist. He could feel her heartbeat, fast as it was. Or maybe it was his.
“You liked me?”
Why was he touching her hand? He should have stood and tried unlocking the door again.
“I didn’t know you enough for that,” Elena said. “I just, I thought you were cute and you talked to me when Mia had to leave early. You smiled a lot and I thought, I don’t know.”
She looked up at him now, her eyes wide.
“You thought maybe you could like me instead of Will.”
“I guess,” she said.
Marco wanted to remember now. He dug through the scenes from his freshman year, trying to find this particular one of a pretty girl in a mad hatter costume. What had he said to her? How had that particular kiss felt? He wanted to know.
He scooted closer, getting on his knees, back away from the bookcase. Elena stilled. She watched him and he was all too aware of it. Marco moved his hand to her hair. He wrapped a strand around his finger, remembering then, she’d had on a long red wig under her mad hat that night. He pulled the strand of hair behind her ear, catching his reflection on her glasses. He leaned in closer, waiting for the moment Elena would push him away.
She didn’t. Instead, she waited.
Marco swallowed down the doubt.
Can I kiss you now? the silence asked.
Elena said nothing. Then she leaned in closer too. Marco breathed in the dusty air around them and then he pressed his lips to hers. His hand went to her face, bringing her closer.
Marco pulled back, the feeling of Elena’s lips still very much on his. He waited again.
“How was that kiss?” she asked.
He smiled. Then he met her halfway and she leaned in again, and they repeated the kiss. But this time, neither one of them pulled away. They hung on to that kiss, and then another, and another. Marco kept a hand at Elena’s cheek, another on her waist. She leaned into him, closer and closer. He lost himself.
Her hands were around his neck, hugging him into the embrace. They moved together, until his back was against the bookcases again, and she was almost on top of him. Marco pushed back with another kiss.
His mind snapped to the memory. He’d kissed her in the dark closet, a soft, innocent peck of a kiss and forgotten about Cecilia. Now he was thinking about Cecilia, but about Elena too. The person he liked was still Cecilia.
Marco pulled away from the kiss. He knew it was too sudden because when he looked up, Elena’s eyes were closed and she still had her arms around him, as though she wanted another moment like this.
Her eyes shot open. She let go of him.
Marco’s lips were on fire. He licked them, tasting whatever citrus flavored lip balm she’d been wearing.
“I…” he began.
Elena held a hand to her lips, breathing in, looking at the floor again.
“That uh, was-”
He really couldn’t find any words. Why didn’t she say something? Anything would have been fine.
“I’m not such a terrible kisser, am I?” Elena asked. Her expression hardened and she scooted away a bit, enough so they weren’t in the same breathing space.
Marco’s mind no longer held Cecilia. He realized he wanted to kiss Elena again. That was all he could think about right now. Leaning in, and bringing her back to him. What was going on?
“We shouldn’t do that again,” Marco said. “It was good, but we shouldn’t. You like Will and I like Cecilia. This was, it was, a moment of curiosity. And I think we should leave it at that.”
Elena pressed down her hair. She nodded, her expression stoic now.
“You’re right,” she said. “We’re in a fake relationship. And obviously we’ve been spending a lot of time together. That builds up closeness, even if we don’t want it to. This was just a side effect of that. Don’t worry, I get it. It was a mistake.”
Marco didn’t think it was a mistake, it couldn’t be, not if he was having to fight off the urge he had to kiss Elena again and again. His eyes were on her lips, his heart raced.
“Yeah,” he said, not meaning it. “Won’t happen again.”
“We should get back to looking,” Elena said. “I’ll take the other end. You can finish here.” Then she got up, wiped her hands on her jeans and disappeared into the labyrinth of bookshelves. Marco got up too, but stopped himself from going after her.
He liked Cecilia.
This had been a choice, not a mistake, but he and Elena liked other people. She might have liked him once at a Halloween party, but that had been years ago.
He got up and started to scan the spines of books again.
He liked Cecilia.
Chapter 19
Elena didn’t sleep.
She tossed and turned until Will woke up on the air mattress beside her.
“Having nightmares?” he asked, his voice soft in the darkness.
“No,” Elena said. That was true. “I had too much coffee when I worked that last shift.”
“Oh,” Will said. She saw his outline as he leaned his head on his elbow. “Want me to get you some water?”
“I’ll be okay,” Elena said. “Go back to sleep.”
He nodded off soon after. She turned, hugging the blankets Will had laid out for her, the thicker set he had, because she always felt like his studio was ten degrees lower than the temperature he set it at. She held on to the pillow beside her, the one Will used. It smelled like him still, but with that new cologne Cecilia had probably convinced him to use. It was Will, but it wasn’t.
And tonight she felt like herself, but not.
Why had she wanted Marco to remember the closet kiss? Why hadn’t she said anything when he leaned in to kiss her?
Elena lay on her back, hearing only the beating of her heart and the occasional sounds of cars outside. She pressed a finger to her lips, closing her eyes as she remembered the kiss, the kisses. She hadn’t thought about Will at all, not about how much she loved him or about wanting to kiss him.
No, she’d only thought about Marco, wanting to pull him closer. It made no sense.
Elena had practically told him she liked him, or had liked him. It was mortifying. She turned and buried her head in Will’s pillow. Marco had said they shouldn’t do it again, and he was right. It had been a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgment that Elena wouldn’t let happen again.
She closed her eyes. They hadn’t found the book he’d been looking for, not that she thought either one of them had been searching at that point. They took another Preston Blanchard book about the 1980s in Glensford.
Her dad still hadn’t contacted her. It was dangerous, letting this much time go by. It was true, she’d been hurt by what he’d said, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t stop in, just to make sure he was okay. Or maybe she could ask someone else to stop by.
She gripped Will’s pillow, not able to clear her mind of lingering thoughts until she turned her phone on and saw it was four in the morning. Will wasn’t the person to talk about this with, and Marco was part of her distraction. Elena could think of only one person, and decided that maybe it was time for her to pay Dulce Street a visit.
________
Elena observed the Dulce Street logo.
The cupcakes and macaroons decorating the soft baby blue logo made her want every pastry they sold. She shouldn’t go in, but she did anyway. Elena had no plan, no sc
ript she’d rehearsed. It was eight in the morning, she’d barely gotten a few hours of sleep, she was in the apartment of the boy she loved, but couldn’t stop thinking of the boy she was fake dating. Not to mention, she had a backlog of homework and AP practice essays to work on. Elena didn’t have the energy to think, only to act right now.
When she walked into Dulce Street she’d known Mia would be there, well, she’d hoped. Mia’s mom was here before the sun rose. Mia would tag along until school started for her, or on weekends, she’d help out and then stay by to study until more customers came in. Then she’d walk to Bee’s and study there, while Elena manned the counter or they shared snacks together.
Mia was here now, writing on some notecards in a corner of the bakery. She looked up, a glance over at first. Then she paused and looked up again, her dark brown eyes wide.
“Elena.”
Elena really hadn’t thought things through. She looked around, hoping maybe Ms. Ortega was there, to make this less awkward. She could take Elena’s order, and then Elena could ease into a more casual conversation with Mia. Instead of that, Elena’s tired brain took over.
“Your mom didn’t give you that pie,” Elena said. “You brought it over.”
Mia turned her head, as if to make sure her mom wasn’t listening. A customer walked in. Mia got up and, without a word, she took Elena outside.
Elena waited for Mia to talk, because the fact about the pie had been the only thing she could think of to say.
“Is something wrong?”
Elena wanted to say everything was wrong, but that wasn’t true either. It just felt that way.
“What did I do for you to stop talking to me?” Elena asked. “I get that you and Will broke up and I thought you needed time to get over that. It’s just, it’s been so long.”
Mia sighed. Then she crossed her arms and motioned for Elena to step back with her, as another customer passed by.
“You’re friends with Will,” Mia said. “I know how much he means to you, so I didn’t want to ask for you stop being friends with him. Okay?”
“So if I’d stopped being friends with him, you would’ve kept talking to me?” Elena wouldn’t have ended her friendship with Will, but if she had been able to pick a side, would she have picked him? She’d known Mia longer, but in the past years she’d grown closer to Will.
“You know I wouldn’t have asked you to choose sides,” Mia said. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I just want to get back inside and study. You’ll always be someone I care about, Elena, but I don’t think we can be friends again.”
“Why?” Elena asked. If she’d done something, knew her mistake, then she could apologize. “Just because I’m friends with Will, doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with you. You’d never have to see each other and I’d never bring him up.”
Mia sighed again. “It’s not that simple, okay? It never was.” She unfolded her arms and started to walk back to the door. Elena wanted to tell her to stay, to listen, to give advice. Mia always had the best, most structured sort of advice.
“Please,” Elena said. “Can’t we talk?” Even she could hear the desperation in her voice.
Mia’s eyes softened. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t seem to find the words. She sighed again. “I can’t. I’m sorry. When I look at you, I think of Will. And when I think of him, my heart breaks again.”
With that she went back into Dulce Street, leaving Elena alone on the sidewalk.
Elena nodded to herself, because what else was there to do? She couldn’t rush in there and demand that Mia explain to her how Will how broken her heart. She’d broken up with him, hadn’t she? Had Will cheated? Had he said something she didn’t like? Elena couldn’t imagine that side to him, but it didn’t make it impossible. She knew her feelings for Will tended to make her biased in any situation.
Why couldn’t Mia explain it to her then?
Elena turned and walked back in the direction of Bee’s. She hadn’t meant to, but her legs carried her there. She stopped by the front window, catching a glimpse of her dad behind the counter. He looked calm as he spoke to a customer, explaining something as he held a book up. A larger stack of books sat on the counter. Elena smiled as she watched her dad at his best, doing one of the two things he loved most, writing his never-ending novel being the other.
Her hand reached for the door. She stepped inside, the jingle bells announcing her entrance before she had a chance to turn back.
“Welcome to Bee’s-” His eyes glazed over. “Elena.”
The customer turned around. Marco looked at Elena too, like he had no idea what to do now.
“Hi,” Elena said.
“Hey,” Marco said. “I was picking up some books for my grandfather’s Christmas gift.” It sounded more like an excuse than anything, like he was saying he wouldn’t have been here if he’d known Elena would be.
Elena looked at the stack of books. That would help with their back rent.
“I’m sure he’ll love them,” Elena said. How were you supposed to act after having made out with your fake boyfriend? She turned to her dad, who was looking at a spot on the counter. “I was just dropping by to pick up a book.”
“A book?” Andres asked. “Any particular one?”
“My copy of Pride and Prejudice,” Elena said. “I was reading it behind the counter and left it in a drawer. Can you check?”
She could have come up with a better excuse, like she hadn’t taken her laptop to Will’s apartment, or her schoolbooks, or maybe clothes that weren’t the few t-shirts and sweatpants she’d left at Will’s place.
Andres looked around the counter, pulling open the drawers in a set of hurried motions. Elena looked at Marco. He gave her an odd, close-mouthed smile, like the type you gave acquaintances on the street.
“Oh, here it is,” Andres said, closing a drawer. He handed to book to Elena. She took one end of it, but didn’t let go.
“You’re okay?” she asked. Her dad didn’t look tired. The store was running and he had his laptop out on one end of the counter, with a spreadsheet out. Were those the financial documents she’d been keeping track of?
“I’m better,” he said. “Sorting some financial out stuff out, getting enough data to show Bruce Shaw that we’re worth keeping as tenants.”
Elena sighed. So he hadn’t given up on the idea of trying to hold on to the building. She got ready to contradict him, but Marco spoke.
“Thank you for helping me find these books,” he said to Andres. “I’m glad to have them.” Then he looked at Elena. “It’s a good thing I ran into you here. Can we grab a coffee?”
“Sure,” Elena said. She gave her dad a nod goodbye. “Don’t skip breakfast,” she said.
Then she followed Marco outside. What was it with people having conversations outside today?
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Marco said.
“I wanted to check on my dad,” Elena said. “Besides, you can stop by Bee’s. It’s not like we’re ignoring each other, right?”
Marco hesitated. “No…” He gave her a questioning look, like he wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. “I just thought after yesterday-”
“I told you last night, that was a mistake. Like you said, it shouldn’t happen again.”
A chill passed through her body.
Marco balanced the books in his hands. “So we’re good? Our whole fake dating scenario is still going?”
“Still going,” Elena said. It would have to keep going for three months apparently.
“That reminds me,” Marco said. “My dad’s lawyer brought up the non-disclosure agreements again. He said he’d like it if we had it signed before the tango exhibition on Friday, since that’s our first public outing or whatever. Your dad should sign one too, and maybe Will. For now, though, you’re first priority.”
Maybe this was Marco’s way of making sure no one found out about last night’s kiss. “You have the copies?”
Marco nodded. “Not with me, but drop by my house and I can get them to you. I think my dad wants to meet you too.”
That didn’t sound nerve-wracking at all.
“Okay. Just let me know,” she said.
“I will,” Marco said. Then he paused, and his expression eased. “I’m glad we’re not avoiding each other.”
Chapter 20
Marco stared up at his bedroom ceiling.
Why had he gone to Bee’s Books? He could’ve sent Lucas to pick up the history books, or had Greg get out of the car to get them. Marco knew he’d had every option of not meeting with Mr. Castro face-to-face, but even so, he’d gone.
Mr. Castro had been busy when Marco had walked in, his head bent over a laptop. When he’d seen Marco he’d stared right at him, like he was waiting to see what he’d do. Marco didn’t do anything. He didn’t bring up the fight he’d witnessed two days before, or Elena. Mr. Castro played along too, like Marco was just another customer, until finally Marco broke the act.
“Elena’s doing okay,” he’d finally said. Then he’d asked what he’d come to ask. “Are you doing well, sir?”
“Doing my best to keep it together. I’d rather have Elena not see me while I’m trying to do that.”
Marco hadn’t known what to say to that.
“I think…” Marco breathed out. This wasn’t his place. But he couldn’t forget Elena crying in front of him, like her dad had said the last words she wanted to hear. “You hurt her feelings, sir.” He knew adding ‘sir’ wouldn’t make it any better.
“I know that,” Mr. Castro had said. “And if I know my daughter at all, I know she won’t tell me that. She’ll come back when she thinks I’m at my worst, or when I ask her to. I don’t want to be at my worst. So when I ask her to come back it’ll because I’ll have an apology and a way to keep our book shop.”
Before Marco had answered, Elena had walked in. And after that, things were sort of a blur. He remembered thinking she’d get angry that he was there or she’d avoid him. She hadn’t. In fact, she’d played along, and asked her dad for some book, like she wasn’t there to check in on him.
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