Love and Other Goals (Love and Other #1)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

M onday morning, I leave the AOPi house with a smile. Mateo and I texted several times yesterday, and I’m feeling more and more confident about how I’m feeling about him. Which is that I like him. A whole lot.

I breathe in the morning air and decide to walk to campus without my ear buds in, a decision I immediately regret when I hear Bailey’s voice calling out to me.

She falls into step beside me. “So, Lana,” she begins, sounding uncharacteristically unsure. “I heard some interesting rumors about you over the weekend.”

Oh boy. Are we really going to middle school gossip this? Undoubtedly, Bailey was one of those popular girls who served as the central power lines for the rumor mill.

Finding no way around it, I simply ask, “What do you mean, Bailey?”

“Well, a couple of the girls from TriAlpha who were at the soccer game claimed they saw you there, and that there seemed to be some sort of flirtation between you and Mateo Alvarez,” she says. Then she audibly scoffs, and I work overtime to keep my facial expressions in line. “I told them I didn’t know of any such connection, but they insisted. ”

“I’m not sure why you would care about my romantic life, Bailey,” I declare without answering her unspoken question.

That seems to throw Bailey off, and she’s scrambling to find a dignified way to get her questions answered. I have to admit it’s a little satisfying seeing her fumbling so much when she’s usually so socially confident. I struggle not to smile to myself.

“It’s always useful to know what dating dynamics are going on with Arrow leaders,” Bailey says. “And I’m just being curious as a friend.”

I pretend to look at something to my side so I can roll my eyes at her use of the word “friend.” My first instinct is to say something snarky back to her, considering how un friendly Bailey usually is to me, but then I hear Teegan’s voice in my head. Embrace it.

“Yes, Bailey, there was flirtation between Mateo and me at the soccer game, because we’ve gone on a couple of dates.”

Bailey’s mouth drops open for a moment before she collects herself, but her eyes remain wide. She’s silent until we reach the point where our paths diverge toward different buildings.

“Um, wow, how nice for you, Lana,” she finally spits out, looking like it physically pained her to do so. “I’m surprised, but, you know, that’s very exciting for you. See ya.”

She speed walks away, and I can’t help but shake my head at her ability to be so condescending in her response to me dating Mateo. As I head into my building for class, I quickly text the Beefs.

Well, Bailey just cornered me into confirming to her that Mateo and I have been dating

Amaya

Prepare for the entire town of Brooklyn to know about it within a few hours

Teegan

I’m here for this gossip train

Amaya

TEEGS

Teegan

I’m only jealous that I didn’t get to be the engine

face palm emoji

Amaya is right. I do need to prepare myself, because the lid has been officially blown off this relationship. Although I’m still a little anxious about how Aaron is going to react, I’m mostly relieved and excited to not feel like I’m keeping my dates with Mateo under wraps anymore.

The next afternoon, I’m sitting in the Harry Potter room, laptop open, Mindful Mellow playlist streaming through my ear buds. I’ve typed and deleted so many beginnings to my personal essay, never making it more than a sentence or two in before deciding I hate the direction I’m going.

I receive a text from Mateo, a welcome distraction from my writer’s block.

Mateo

Hey, Coach ended practice early. Where are you right now?

I give a half smile to my phone and take a selfie with the room in the background. I send the photo to him, curious if he’ll know the location.

Three dots.

Well, this brings up a crucial relationship question. What Hogwarts house would you be in?

Gryffindor, obviously. Where all the cool kids fighting injustice want to be

I don’t know, I was always fond of Cedric Diggory myself. I think Hufflepuff might be the sleeper of Hogwarts houses

Considering Mateo’s patience, loyalty, hard work, and genuine care for others, he’d make a perfect Hufflepuff.

I’ll be right there

Ten minutes later, Mateo walks through the door, searching the room for me. I catch his eye and wave him over. He sits across the table and asks what I’m working on.

In a low, library-level voice, I tell him, “I’m supposed to be working on my personal statement for my law school application. But I don’t know where to start. I’m never going to get my application submitted by the end of the week like I was hoping.”

“What’s the essay about?” Mateo asks, leaning forward. He’s oblivious to the number of people casually sneaking glances at us, so I decide to choose oblivion also.

“Why I want to go to law school, pretty much,” I answer. “Being an immigration lawyer is the one thing I’ve wanted for so long that I’m having a hard time condensing my thoughts. It just feels like part of my DNA. How do I explain that?”

Mateo sits back for a moment, thinking. He runs his hand through his hair and rests it on the back of his neck, a thoughtful motion I wouldn’t have classified as incredibly attractive until now. He leans closer again and says, “You’ve seen the shortcomings and challenges of the immigration system your whole life. You’ve met the real people affected by it. But there are a lot of different ways to help immigrants and refugees, Lana. Immigration attorneys are just one piece of the puzzle. What was the moment you felt in your gut that you had to be this part of the solution?”

I sit back in my chair. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.” I think for a minute before recognizing that I know the exact moment.

“I was thirteen. My mom was invited to speak to a class at UC Davis about her experiences with asylum seekers in El Paso and transition to working with refugees in Kansas City. She decided to take me with her for some one-on-one time. ”

Mateo leans his chin on one hand, listening intently.

“Mom told the story of two families of asylum seekers we knew in El Paso. One family had a daughter, Maria, who was in my class at school. I never knew the specifics of her family’s story, I just knew she didn’t play at recess at first, that she’d drop to the ground shaking at the sound of a door slamming. That fear seemed to be her baseline emotion.

“My mom was representing the other family in court, pleading their case to receive asylum, but Maria’s family didn’t have a lawyer. Mom’s clients won their case and were granted asylum, but Maria’s family apparently wasn’t well-organized going into their hearing. The judge denied their request, and they were deported.”

I realize I’m crying at the memory when I feel a tear drip off my chin onto my arm. “At the time, I didn’t know that Maria’s family was deported. All I knew was that my friend was there one day and gone the next. It wasn’t until I heard Mom share the story that I understood why Maria had left, that it was because her family didn’t have a lawyer helping them present their case.”

I swallow hard. “I knew I had to make sure that families who were in danger in their home countries weren’t sent back. That’s when I knew I had to be this part of the solution.”

Mateo reaches over and brushes a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “That’s what you write about, Lana.”

I nod. My mind is suddenly charged with thoughts organizing themselves. My fingers are itching to start typing everything out while the inspiration is flowing.

Sensing my thoughts, Mateo smiles at me and says, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. I know you have your ELL tutoring and Bible study tonight, so you better get typing while you have time. Glad I could see you for a few minutes today.”

He stands up, but I reach out and grab his hand to stop him from walking away. “I’m glad I got to see you today too, Mateo. And not just because you helped me figure out the answer to my essay,” I say with a soft laugh. “I’m just glad to see you.”

Mateo slowly grins at me, then promises to text me later with a wink.

Turning to my computer, my essay essentially writes itself as my fingers fly across the keyboard. An hour later, I’m proud of what I’ve written as I read back through it. I email it to my mom and shoot her a text asking her to look it over.

I pack up my backpack and leave the library feeling a hundred pounds lighter than when I arrived. As I walk back to AOPi, I text Mateo to ask for his email address. I forward the email with my essay to him.

Seemed only fair to let you read what you inspired

Mateo

I didn’t inspire your answer, Lana, it was already in you. I just asked the right question to get it out

The next morning, I wake up to my phone vibrating with a call from my mom. Panicking that something might be wrong, I sneak out of the room and answer in a whisper. “Mom? Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Hi Sleeping Beauty, I was just driving to the office early today and wanted to call you,” she answers.

My heart rate is slowly deescalating back to a normal rhythm. “Sheesh you scared me, Mom. I was afraid something had happened.”

“I’m sorry honey, I wasn’t thinking about what time it was or that it might startle you,” she says apologetically. “I just wanted to let you know that I read through your essay this morning, and it was so moving. The admissions team is going to love it, but I loved it even more. I didn’t realize how impactful that trip was for you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either,” I answer as I head downstairs to the living room. “I mean, of course I knew it was impactful, but I hadn’t really pieced together that it was the defining moment in making me want to become an immigration lawyer until yesterday.”

“Really? What made you think of it for the essay then?” my mom asks, right before I hear her honk the horn and mutter something about an incompetent driver. Morning traffic in Kansas City can be a wild ride.

“Actually, Mateo is the one who helped me realize it,” I say with a small smile. “I was struggling to know what to write, and he asked me when I knew that being an immigration lawyer was the part of the solution that I had to be.”

“Well, another gold star from me then,” Mom says with a chipper tone to her voice. “Do you know if he’ll be in town the weekend we come to visit in a few weeks?”

“I’ll have to find out, Mom. They have an away match that Saturday, but if you’re coming in Friday night we might be able to have dinner. When it gets a little closer, I’ll ask him about it,” I say. “We’ve gone on a couple of dates, but I’m not sure it’s quite to the ‘make plans with my parents weeks in advance’ stage yet.”

I hear the grin in my mom’s voice when she responds, “Oh honey, from what you’ve told me, it sounds like Mateo is far beyond that stage already.”

“Mom!” I scold. “That is not helpful! I’m trying not to let my thoughts run wild, okay?!”

“Mmm-hmm, whatever you tell yourself,” Mom replies. “I just pulled into the parking lot, so I need to head inside. I emailed you back a couple of suggestions to reword in your essay, but otherwise I think it’s ready for you to submit.”

“Thanks Mom, I appreciate the input,” I say. “Have a great day with your clients. Tell everyone hello when you get home later.”

“Will do. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too.”

I’m wide awake now, so I grab breakfast before heading upstairs to get dressed. Amaya and Teegan are both up, so I plop down at the desk and power up my laptop to look at my mom’s suggestions .

My inbox shows my mom’s reply, but also a response from the email I forwarded to Mateo. I click on that first, unable to resist his pull even via email. It’s a short response that makes me smile big. This is so good, Lana. Do you have any weaknesses, or do you just do everything well?

By the time I’ve made the few tweaks from my mom, Teegan is back in the room after eating breakfast, so she and Amaya crowd around my laptop to read together. When they get to the end, Teegan wraps her arms around my neck. “Beef, you have such a beautiful love for people. You’re going to make the best lawyer.”

Amaya stands up and joins our group hug, adding her affirmation. “I agree, and if UC Davis doesn’t let you in, then their idiotic admissions department should all be fired.”

I laugh, but inside I’m a puddle of gratitude for having found such incredible friends. Now that my essay is complete, my application is ready to submit. It seems fitting to have my two best friends with me when I press send.

I log in to the UC Davis application website and upload my personal statement and other documents. Teegan and Amaya are standing on either side of my chair, and I give a quick glance up to each of them before hitting the submit button.

Smiling at the confirmation screen, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. It may be out of my hands now, but I feel one step closer to my future.