“Yeah, right. My mom lost this place years ago. She’s living with her sister an hour away from here; this month, anyway.”
“Oh.” I’m relieved and then disappointed.
Reeve sees my expression and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Do what?”
“Introduce you to my mom. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor.”
We get out of the car and Reeve looks at the house, his arms crossed. “You know how much I don’t miss this place?” He holds out his hand for me. “Come on, let’s look around back.”
I hesitate. “You’re really taking a leap of faith that this homeowner isn’t also a gun owner.”
“Nobody lives here. Let’s go.”
The backyard is overgrown and littered with the skeletal remains of old furniture and plastic toys. Reeve shades his eyes and looks into a window. “Holy shit. My Batman wallpaper’s still up.”
I stand on tiptoe to peek in beside him. “This was your room?”
“Uh-huh. I loved that wallpaper so much. One of my mom’sboyfriends put it up for me, but we could only afford to cover that one wall. God, I hated that dude.”
“He sounds nice to decorate your room like that.”
“He wasn’t. Believe me.” He takes my hand again and we circle the house. Reeve looks in a few more windows, but they don’t hold his attention. By the time we come back around to the front, his jaw is set with tension. “So is this the kind of place you imagined me growing up?”
“If you hadn’t told me anything about your life, I would have imagined you growing up in some grand house on a sunny street with a big backyard perfect for throwing a football.”
“I did. That’s Cam’s house.” He glances at the front door and then turns his back to it. “Thank god I got out of here. I would never have made it if I stayed.”
“I don’t know about that. There’s a willful side to you I’d be scared to mess with.”
“No, I mean it. I actually have a future to live for, and it’s only because I left.” His eyes are extra blue as a faraway look comes over them, and I know he’s picturing that future a million miles from here. I have to turn away from him.
“Well, I love your little house but I’m not seeing how this is going to improve my Spanish.”
Reeve focuses on something in the distance, then breaks into a smile. “Hold on. You’re about to.” He waves and calls out, “Hey! Mateo!”
I turn around to find a young guy walking our way, shielding his eyes from the sun. “What up, man?¡Bienvenido a la cuadra!”
Reeve and Mateo hug and clap each other on the back; then they’re off and running with a conversation in Spanish that goes completely over my head, save for a few words.
“Mateo and I grew up in the neighborhood together,” Reeve tells me after a minute. “His mom used to babysit me when Iwas a kid, and we played together all through elementary school. Stop me if you want me to translate.”
Mateo looks from Reeve to me. “Oh, sorry, you only speak English?”
“No te preocupes.She needs to learn.” Reeve pulls me close. “Mateo,ella es Jade, mi novia.”
Mateo takes my hand. “Encantado de conocerte, Jade.”
“Mucho gusto, Mateo,” I say automatically, my heart fluttering inside my chest because I just realized what Reeve said.
“You need a translation yet?” Reeve asks. His eyes burn bright with mischievousness.
I squeeze his hand and shake my head. He just introduced me as his girlfriend.
I don’t stop smiling for the next half hour, not even when I stumble through my Spanish with Mateo, or when Mateo’s mom, who joins us on the sidewalk, asks whether I’m sure I wouldn’t rather her speak English, because even though her English isn’t perfect, my Spanish is far worse.
I don’t stop holding Reeve’s hand, either, even though I’m sure I look like some sort of vapid, desperate clinger. The educational aspect of this so-called field trip is lost on me because my brain is too clouded with exhilaration to absorb any Spanish.
