The fucked-up part is she had been my favorite teacher in elementary school. I never thought I’d be sitting across from the woman while she gave me dick you down eyes.
“Wait, so did you leave after that?” Isa says through her laughter.
“No, Isa, I had already ordered an appetizer before she got here, and I was hungry.”
“Manny! So, what happened?”
“Mrs. Hidalgo and I ate a good meal together, she apologized, asked me to not tell Blanca, and that was it. When she left, I stayed at the bar and decided I was done with dating.”
Isa laughs and reaches across the table, patting my forearm. Goosebumps break out over the simple caress of her soft hands.
“Oh my god, I still can’t believe you got catfished by our third-grade teacher.” She laughs, and I join in.
Why not? Who better than Yolanda Hidalgo to teach me another lesson in life: Don’t trust people on the internet.
“How has dating been for you?” I ask, and Isa’s smile falls.“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were getting back out there again or not.”
It has been a year since her and Juan Carlos split. Isa nods, and her face returns to a more serious state.
“I went on one date. It wasn’t as horrific as yours, but it also was kind of weird.”
“Cómo que weird?” I ask.
“I don’t know? I’m a single mom. There’s not a lot to offer to a relationship right now outside of work and Junior.”
“I understand that.”
Junior was a big reason I stopped dating too. Since he spent every other weekend at my house, it felt like I didn’t have time to date. Being a godparent in my family was a big job, and I respected the role not just for him, but also for Isa.
The first day Juan Carlos didn’t show up, I felt all the pain and thought about Don Charras, how he had been so kind to me with my father’s passing. He had showered me with love and kept me on the right track in life. I owed it to him to be a positive male role model for his grandson.
“But you have everything to offer the right guy,” I say after a moment of silence.
Years may have passed, but Isa was still who she always was at her core: smart, kind, funny, and loyal. Only an idiot would pass that up.
“We’re going to have to call an Uber.” Isa cackles.
“I’ll text Greñas and make him take us home.” I laugh.
One margarita led to another and another. We’d moved from a table to the bar after our waitress made it very clear she was annoyed with us. With the closer proximity, we were able to talk about the things we had both missed out on in each other’s lives.
“Can I ask you something?” Isa says.
“Only if I can askyousomething,” I reply.
“That’s fair.” She nods. “You know, watching the kids today. It reminded me of when we were younger.”
She looks up at me. Her brown eyes entrapping me in them. I can’t help the need to touch her. Our stools side to side, my knee hitting hers as we sit there at the bar. We’re closer than we had been at the table, but it wasn’t close enough. I couldn’t drive away the thoughts forming in my mind. My body was desperate to be suffocated by her presence. It was torture not to reach out and grab her hand in mine. She bites down on her lip, debating her next words.
“The night of my quince, were you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?” she asks hesitantly.
“Who told you that?”Shit.
“Berto told Vivien,” she says, giving me a lopsided smile.
Pinche Berto.
“I forgot that fucker was in the bathroom that night.” My drunk self snitches on sober me.
