9
Reyes
I’d woken up late after a long, insanely hot night with Jake and missed the free breakfast provided by the inn, which meant I had barely more than a banana in my stomach through most of our Sunday scrimmage.
The kids had played hard today, but we’d lost the match by one goal. No one had looked more defeated than Harrison when he’d missed that final shot. His shoulders were slumped as he walked off the field, despite everyone giving him an encouraging pat on the back. I knew he’d beat himself up over that loss all week, pushing himself to try harder and be better. I could see the hunger in his eyes, the desire to be as good as the others, if not better. It was a drive I was all too familiar with. I only hoped I’d be able to do what my coach had done for me when I was fourteen and provide a solid foundation for him to develop his skills. I knew having the opportunity to play wasn’t always enough. You needed someone to believe in you and support you enough to build your confidence, as well as the drive and discipline to push you through those moments when all you want to do is give up. Those were the things I wanted to be for Harrison, to help him discover it in himself. For some reason, he reached me more than the others. Maybe it was his determination. How he’d showed up early and stayed later after practice almost every day this week, just to ask questions and learn more. Harriscravedimprovement more than anyone else on the team and I admired that in him.
But there was also something about Harrison that was starting to bother me. He’d been a member of HotShots for two weeks now, and in all that time, I’d never seen his parents at practice or a game. It wasn’t unusual for the parents to drop kids off so they could go run errands or get a bite to eat while the kids were occupied, but by now, I’d met everyone’s parents at least once. Except Harrison’s. It hadn’t escaped my notice that he’d walked to and from the clinic every day either. In a town where you could practically walk from one side to the other, the distance didn’t worry me so much as the fact that he did italone, every day.It made me want to press him for a few more details about his home life as soon as I had the chance.
Arriving back at the inn, I poured myself a bowl of salsa and tore open a bag of chips, devouring nearly all of them before giving in to the guilt and calling my parents. I hadn’t talked to them since my last attempt to tell them the truth. However, they’d left me three voicemails just this morning. If I didn’t call them back soon, they’d make good on their threats to fly Mia out here just to check on me, and as much as I loved my sister, I really didn’t want to see her right now either.
Ma answered on the fourth ring, but I could barely hear her over a chorus of noise in the background, requiring her attention. It was a full thirty seconds before she finally spoke into the receiver.
“Hola, mijo. Como estas,” she cooed.
“Hey Ma,” I said. “How’s it going there? Getting ready for Sunday dinner?” I asked, knowing most of my family would be bumping elbows in my parents’ small house soon. Ever since I was a kid, Sunday family dinners were practically a religious event.
“Sí, sí.”
“Did Dad choose enchiladas or chili for his birthday dinner?” I asked, grinning.
She snorted. “You know him so well. Chili this time, in those homemade sourdough bread bowls he loves so much. Speaking of birthdays, will you be flying home next week? We’d all love to see you.”
I let out a breath. “I can’t. I’ve told you I can’t get away from the cli—”
A loud screech in the background, followed by a clattering of metal against the tile floor made me yank the phone away from my ear. Mia cursed in the background and I thought I heard someone snicker.
“It’s in your hair!” I heard a child’s voice call when I listened in again. I recognized it as one of the twins, but I wasn’t sure which one. Nicolás and Nicole were only five, so their voices were still too similar by sound alone.
“Hush, Nicolás,” Ma chided. “Agara la toallas de papeland help clean up this mess!Y por el amor de Dios, stop spooking everyone!”
I popped a few more chips into my mouth as I listened to Ma bark orders to the small crowd in her kitchen. I could just picture her leaning against the counter while the rest of the crew did the dirty work. That’s how it was in Ma’s kitchen. You made a mess; you cleaned it up.
“Who is that on the phone?” A deep, rough voice spoke in the distance, and I wondered if it was my brother. It was hard to know for sure over the noise. Desmond’s voice had changed the last couple of years, thanks to his new smoking habit, and it was sometimes hard to tell him and our older brother, Paul, apart.
“It’s Casper,” Ma said. “Nicolás, don’t you dare run out of here!”
“Is that Des?” I asked, curiosity winning out.
“Sí. NICOLÁS!”
I pictured her peering down the hallway leading out of the kitchen with her arm raised over her head as she yelled at my nephew, and it cast a sad smile on my face. It felt so strange to both miss these people and simultaneously feel like I didn’t belong anymore.
The phone shifted, and seconds later, Desmond’s scratchy voice came through the line.
“’bout time you checked in.”
I bit back my reply. Des knew there was a reason I didn’t call home often—he just couldn’t accept thathewas a part of it. In another life, he’d been one of my best friends, right up there with our cousin Max, but things started changing for us around my sixteenth birthday. Almost as soon as I came out, Desmond started distancing himself from me. I didn’t think it was because I was gay, just that maybe he didn’t know how to relate to me anymore. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened between us, but Des felt like nothing more than a stranger these days.
“Well, I’ve been busy,” I replied.
“No shit. Too busy to tell your own parents you’ve been booted from the team.”
I flinched and didn’t say anything.
Des drew in a long breath. There was a snap of a soda can, followed by a few long, loud swallows. “Anyway. Told myself I wouldn’t yell at you. Are you doing okay? How’s South Carolina?”
My eyes widened. I truly hadn’t been expecting his… almost support. “Um, yeah. It’s good. I’m enjoying the clinic. Change of pace from the team.”
