“How long have you two been together?” Juan Carlos shouts, and the people around us grow quiet.
“Juan Carlos, let’s sit down and talk about this,” Isabel says, lowering her voice.
“Talk! Right here! And I don’t want no bullshit. I saw the way you two were dancing, Isabel. I saw the way he was looking at you!”
“Juan Carlos. Stop. You know Manny cares about Junior and me.”
“Ya, he cares so much he just swooped right in to steal you both from me.” Juan Carlos’s words slur, and he takes a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure.
“It’s not what you think,” I say to dismantle the growing tension.
By now, the band has quit playing, and I catch my mom out of the corner of my eye. Guilt consumes me when I see her worried expression, and Dolly staring at us attentively. I can’t ruin her big night. When I look at Junior holding up his dad, I can see the remorse in his eyes.
“Is that true, Nino? Are you and my mom together?” Junior asks.
I feel everyone’s sharp eyes piercing through me. Everyone waiting for some type of confirmation. I can feel Isa’s eyes on me, but I also see Junior waiting there for me. Being put on the spot can make it unclear how to formulate or explain anything rationally. I take the coward’s route, clearing my throat and keeping my eyes on Junior.
“There’s nothing going on between your mom and me.”
The damage is done before I can call the words back to me. Junior scoffs and removes himself from his father’s embrace.
“You know what, fuck both of you,” he says, looking between his dad and I. “Ma, let’s go.”
Isa calls after him, and Juan Carlos collapses to the ground with a groan. When Isa comes face-to-face with me, she doesn’t have to say anything. I can already see what the sting of my words has done to her.
“Nothing?” she questions, and the pain erupting in my chest is too much to bear.
I look away. Sentences fail to formulate. My feet fail to move toward her. She reaches for Juan Carlos and lifts him to stand. I let my head fall forward. I’m not strong enough to watch her leave. Not again.
17
ISABEL
Habia un demono en la sala
I struggle to get a drunk Juan Carlos out of the event venue. For one, he’s heavy, and then there’s the fact that he’s swaying side to side.
“¡Levántate Cabrón!” I scream, pushing him to stand up.
I’m angry at him, at Manny, and even at myself. This was not how I saw the night ending. I see a figure running toward me, and it’s not who I’m expecting.
“Hey. Let me help you,” Desmond says.
I expect him to lift Juan Carlos, but shrug when I see him dragging him. Nothing he didn’t deserve. Juan Carlos cries out and quickly stands to his feet.
“Fuck,” he grumbles.
“Get to the car,” Desmond orders, pointing to my car.
We each slide under an arm to support him until we can safely throw him in the back seat. Junior looks back briefly, then back to the front window. His angry music blares through the speakers.
“Is he going to be alright?” Desmond asks when he shuts the back door.
“Ya.” I nod.
“Are you going to be alright, Isa?” he asks.
And the truth is, I don’t know. I have no idea how to decipher what I’m feeling at this moment, but I nod my head anyway. Desmond has always worried about me, and I know I can always count on him. I give my big brother a hug and head to the driver’s seat.
