Helena pats his shoulder. "Be nice to Evie so she doesn’t quit. She’s the best employee I have."
"Ooh, I’m telling Marie and Alice," Miguel teases.
"Do it," Helena fires off over her shoulder as she walks off. "Then maybe they’ll get off their lazy asses and work harder."
I can’t help the small rush in my chest. Not pride exactly—but something adjacent. Something I’m not used to.
Almost as soon as she’s gone, I try to reach into my back pocket. "Here, can you hold this?" I ask, practically shoving my plate at him. He does so with that amused smile still playing at his lips.
My sweaty fingers fumble to pull out the half-crushed envelope. "Uh, this is for you," I say, holding it out to him.
Then we half juggle, trying to exchange the card for the overflowing plate of food.
He opens it up right there. "Have a roar-some birthday," he muses.
Stepping out of the way from someone trying to get at the macaroni salad, I say, "Err, I didn’t know how old you were turning today."
Honestly, I got the dinosaur themed card because I thought this was a party for an eight-year-old boy named Miguel. My brain struggles to comprehend an entire family like this coming together over an adult. I was taught birthdays are for young children or popular teenagers.
"Roar!" he crows. My shoulders hunch on instinct as I jerk at the sudden loud sound, glancing around to see if people are looking at us. A few do with good-natured smiles, and a couple others are looking at me in interest now. Heat floods my cheeks and anxiety zips through me but I hold my ground.
"Sorry, but your card inspired me. I’m twenty-two and feeling good," he says in a sheepish tone, as if realizing he’s made me uncomfortable.
He’s somehow managed to put me back at ease. The pressure in my chest doesn’t vanish, but it shifts—lighter, like I can breathe through it now
Miguel gives the card another appreciative look then pockets it.
"Allow me." He takes my plate, carefully balancing it in one hand while he grabs his own from the buffet table. "I must insist you sit with the birthday boy. It is my most ardent wish," he proclaims dramatically.
"How can I refuse?" I laugh nervously. Has anyone ever invited me to eat with them before? Not when I was in school, that’s for sure.
We eat and chat about the community college he goes to. I ask him as many questions as I can because, 1) it keeps him busy talking so I can focus on plowing through the hot pile of delicious food, and 2) I am genuinely fascinated and envious of his college experience.
I’m only a year younger, but Miguel is full of youth and excitement—the way his cousins are. It’s like visiting an different world, but a pleasant one. The kind of world I used to press my nose against the glass for, never expecting to be let inside.
"I mean the criminal justice major is just a start," he says, summing up how his semester has been challenging but fulfilling. "I eventually want to become an immigration attorney." He smiles fondly at the fray of his large Brazilian family spread out in the gym. "I personally know the difficulties that come with trying to start over in a new place."
"I get that," I finally say. My hand goes to my stomach, pressing in to quell the pain of near-bursting. I don’t know if I’ve ever been around so much good food.
If I have anymore, it all might make a reappearance, but I’m still considering the idea of going back for more.
"Oh yeah?" he says, straightening and looking at me with an interest I’m not used to. "Did you have to make a big move?"
I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down at the empty plate, still bracing against the pain of overeating. My stomach will be distended for days. But there’s a strange comfort in the ache, like proof I got to indulge.
"Um, not necessarily a big one, but I moved around a lot. I was in foster care or group homes until I aged out of the program."
"I’m sorry," he says, genuine concern etched on his young handsome face.
I shrug. "It’s fine. But I know what you mean about new starts coming with difficulties. I bet you’d help a lot of people.If not legally, you’d at least put them at ease with your personality."
At that, Miguel breaks into a wide, beaming smile. "Am I puttingyouat ease, Evie?"
"Evie," Helena calls out, shucking on her coat across the room. "We’re heading out." It’s an order. I instantly jump up and carry my plate over to the trash. I didn’t realize how the party had thinned out. I’d been so focused on talking with Miguel. But I’m glad she broke the moment where Miguel put me on the spot.
He dogs my steps, voice rushed. "Evie, I’d like to see you again."
I grab my coat, but he snatches it only to help me get into it. It feels… weird. Nice, but weird.
