“I know.”
“It’s far.”
“I know.”
She hesitates.
“It’s free, right?”
Her lips press together.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll transfer after Christmas break. Start spring semester clean.”
She shakes her head. “No,mija.No. That is not why we sent you there. Not so you could run when it gets hard.”
I inhale slowly.
“This isn’t about hard.”
I swallow.
“It’s about hostile.”
She doesn’t answer.
“It’ll be one less mouth to feed,” I say quietly. “Fifty to seventy-five dollars less a week in groceries.”
“Stella—”
“I eat a lot, Mamá. I’m in season. Protein’s expensive.”
Her eyes flash with hurt.
“And you could use the time you spend driving me to give Mateo and Camila more attention.”
Her face softens at their names.
“I can still get recruited,” I continue. “I can still get a full ride. I can still be the first Cortez to go to university.”
My voice doesn’t shake.
“I just don’t have to do it there.”
The rain starts tapping on the windshield.
Soft.
Relentless.
She says something under her breath in Spanish. Fast. Emotional. Prayer and frustration mixed together.
Then she exhales.
Long.
“You promise me,” she says, “this is not because of a boy.”
