I had a propensity for dancing with the devil. It coursed through my blood and the more I fought it, the more it manifested itself. Nothing could be done to tame that side of me. It’s why I learned to accept my nature.
Good girls kept the status quo. Bad girls made the rules.
And I was someone who always created her own rules, the world be damned.
“I want to start off by saying I’m really sorry for last night,mamá,” I said genuinely. “I never meant to cause you any panic. Or you,papá. It’s the last thing I wanted.”
Mamáandpapáexchanged a look. I was waiting for the verbal thrashing. It never came. Upon closer inspection, they both just seemed resigned. And perhaps they knew that yelling would seldom get us nowhere. Whereas in the past, they would have blasted me for the slightest indiscretion, now they were silent.
Was this growth?
Instead,papápoured more café into his cup and cleared his throat. “Tell us everything from the beginning, Ella.”
It was a small price to pay to get back into their good graces. Therefore, I explained everything from going to St. Victoria, participating in Initiation Night—yes, I pledged my allegiance tothe inner circle, but fuck it, it’s not like my parents would gossip to others about this—and how we got caught by the cops. For obvious reasons, I didn’t relay any details about me and Cade because they didn’t need to know what happened in the nurse’s office.
That was between me, him, God, and whatever spirits witnessed the act.
Safe to say, my parents were shocked to hear the entire situation. No screaming match ensued, except for—finally—a lecture on how reckless and irresponsible we were with a calmness that was worse than fury in my opinion. I listened patiently. I knew it was well-deserved. Furthermore, I lived under their roof and ate their food. While I made my own rules, occasionally I had to adhere to theirs too.
Plus, sneaking out of a high society party to go partake in a hazing activity was pretty scandalous according to my parents’ standards. Their concerns and fears were valid. They asked me to be more careful and never do anything so rebellious again. I didn’t add that Cade and I had done so much worse in the past. No point in sullying my reputation any further in their eyes.
Papámentioned that my record was clear—most cops were dirty and in the pockets of Montardor’s elites—and that Principal Hill was sweeping this situation under the rug. No charges, no investigation. Moreover, the latter had plans of one day debuting into the political scene. She’d need all the support with her mayoral campaigns. The last thing Diane Hill wanted was to be on the Cordovas’ and the Remingtons’ shit list.
“I don’t even want to know what kind of trouble Emilio will cause us.”Papásighed. “You kids are a handful.”
Mamáinched him a teasing look. “And to think, at one point, you wanted more.”
“I take it back,” he barked half dryly, half playful. “These two are more than enough.”
“Hey, where do you think we get it from?” I pipped in. Emilio was an angel of a child, but the Cordova bloodline was filled with rebels and my little brother would probably follow suit when he grew up. “Abuelasaid you were a demon’s spawn as a child.”
“Don’t listen to yourabuela.”Papáscoffed. “She’s spouting nonsense.”
I chuckled, eating my cookies asmamáribbed him good-naturedly, recounting old stories thatpapápretended not to remember. Seeing them banter—seeing them less distraught and more playful—eased my guilt for putting them through the ringer.
Whenpapáhad enough, he groaned and stood up, taking his café with him. “I’ve got work to do.” He leaned down to kissmamá’s cheek. “I’ll see you later,mi corazón.”
Mamásmiled and squeezed the inside of his wrist, where he had her name tattooed.
My parents were still sickeningly in love with each other. No matter how much Emilio and I gagged at their displays of affection, I knew deep in my heart I always longed for their kind of love.Papátreatedmamálike gold.
Having seen that kind of love my whole life, I never wanted to settle for less.
It was why finding Cade felt so monumental.
He treated me like I was his whole universe.
Oncepapáleft and the door of the study clicked shut,mamá’s smile dropped. She stared at me like I took ten years out of her life. “No more secrets,mija. You can tell us anything, okay? We’re a family. We support and confide in each other. Never forget that.”
These past three years, it felt like there was entirely too much space between us. A lot of it was my fault. It became harder to share my secrets with them, as was the case for most kids who entered adolescence. And the nature of my secrets was quitedark and not the kind you casually divulged to your parents.
There was one secret, however, that I could tell her.
I went to sit beside her and grabbed her slender fingers with mine. “Mamá, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Her undivided attention was on me. “What is it?”
When I met her gaze, tranquil and comforting, it gave me all the courage I needed to say my piece. “I was five weeks pregnant in July and I miscarried the night of Josh’s party.”
