Chapter 2
GAbrIEL
“Don’t let me keep you, then,” I told Taylor. “We can text later.”
From what I could see through his car window, Taylor looked totally put-together and handsome in a grey suit with a navy tie. His light brown hair had a hint of red undertones when the sun hit it, although his pale complexion indicated he probably didn’t spend much time outside.
I wished I could see the color of his eyes.
Taylor continued. “How close do you think we are to the accident? It looks like traffic opens up just past this underpass.”
I guess we weren’t hanging up after all. I let him merge in front of me like I’d promised, even though that meant I could no longer see his face.
“I think you’re right,” I said.
The lanes in front of me slowly merged into one on the far left, only to reveal an absolute carnage of rubber ducks in every color of the rainbow spilling out of an overturned semi. I couldn’t help cracking up at the ridiculousness of the scene.
And then I heard a magical sound—Taylor’s laugh. It was deep and breathless but sounded a little unpracticed.
“Oh my god, this is not real,” I heard him say when he’d finally caught his breath.
I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes. The truck’s cab seemed ok, and if there had been an ambulance, it was long gone. I sent a wish up for the driver’s health anyway before snapping a quick photo of the chaos with my phone.
“If you’re dreaming, then so am I,” I said, needing to hear him laugh again.
Taylor’s laughter echoed over the phone. “Stop, that is so cheesy.”
Score. I blew him a kiss through his rear-view mirror. Damn, was I glad he called. I could tell he’d almost surprised himself, and I found that endearing.
After we hung up, I quickly lost sight of Taylor’s car as he rushed to his sister’s appointment, and I turned the volume back up on my music.
Growing up in Southern California, I’d been singing along with the radio to pass the time in traffic since I was small, although these days it was more Mad Tsai than Maná.
A text pinged on my phone while I was at a red light, and I glanced down to check it.
Mamá
Have you forgotten that you have parents? Papá needs your help in the garage.
If I needed something to burst my bubble, that was it.
I’d been putting off my next visit home to Santa Ana for a month, but I wouldn’t be able to avoid my mom’s texts and calls for much longer.
Ever since Abuela moved back to Mexico to enjoy her retirement, the house had felt too empty, and my mom had been focusing all her hovering energy on me in my grandmother’s absence.
Best to bite the bullet. I dialed my mother’s number.
“Hola, mijo,” my mother’s voice filled my car. “It’s good to hear you’re still alive.”
I sighed. “The botanical gardens are busy this time of year, but I’ll be able to visit soon.”
“Your work isn’t that important. You can take time to visit your parents. We aren’t going to be around forever.”
“I know, Mamá.”
My parents loved me, but they always managed to remind me of my shortcomings.
I was their only son, bearing the weight of all their expectations.
I loved my work as a horticulturalist planning public gardens, but they didn’t understand why I needed expensive student loans to do the same job as my father did at his landscaping company.
After changing my declared major a few times, I even had to stay an extra year to finish my degree.
I wasn’t exactly making them proud. I wasn’t doing anything they could brag about at church or around the neighborhood. I couldn’t even hang on to a romantic partner.
“Did you hear that Oscar is going to be made a partner in his law firm?” Mamá asked.
Oscar—my responsible older cousin and a high-powered lawyer. A benchmark I was always held against. Now that I was staring down my thirtieth birthday, measuring up was starting to feel more and more out of reach.
“Tía Rosa is so proud,” she said.
“I’m happy for him.” I fought to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I was happy for him, as much as I was tired of living in his shadow. “He’s a lot older than I am.”
Why was it so hard for me to commit to a life plan? It seemed like everyone else had an internal compass guiding them to the same finish line, and mine was defunct, pointing me in the wrong direction.
Money was their security, and I understood that deeply, but I wanted more.
I wanted a life that was free and expansive. Why did every day have to be a series of sacrifices and obligations? Why couldn’t it be fun?
She continued. “When I was your age, I had two jobs and an eight-year-old to take care of.”
There was nothing really to say to that, and she knew it, which was why she said it. Mamá was smart, managing all the scheduling for Papá’s landscaping business while working as a receptionist for a dentist’s office.
I fell quiet and let her talk for the remainder of my drive, halfway listening to all the chisme about her church ladies, the neighbors down the street, and parents of friends I’d had in elementary school that I no longer kept in touch with.
I’d heard half of these stories before, but despite what my mom implied, I cared about her. She just made it hard sometimes.
“…I’m going to invite the Lopez family. They have a single daughter who’s your age.”
I cut in. “Anyway, Mamá. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be down soon to help Papá with his projects. I have to run into the store now.”
She sighed. “Sale, hijo.”
Thankfully, it was easier for Mamá to say goodbye once I’d promised a visit. I was too distracted by the display case of sprinkled donuts in front of me to process that I’d only been half-listening while she was orchestrating a set-up between the Lopezes’ daughter and me.
If my life were a movie, I’d want it to start with the following montage: me in my yellow VW bug, driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, with a box of donuts in the front seat. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing better.
“Just call off from work, Oscar. It’ll be worth it.”
I’d been at my job for a year but never managed to rack up much PTO because I did things like call my cousin on a random Tuesday afternoon and convince him to play hooky with me. As far as I was concerned, time off was intended to be taken, and I found reasons to use it.
“It’s a beautiful day, and it’s January!” I said. “We have to take advantage.”
“We live in Los Angeles. The weather is always gorgeous.” Oscar had on his professional voice, the one he used at work, and his keyboard clacked in the background. “I have adult responsibilities to handle.”
I winced but tried to let the unintentional dig slide off my shoulders.
It’s not that I didn’t like my work at the botanical gardens.
It was as close to an ideal full-time job as I could get.
But even still, it was just a job. Days like today, I’d never get back.
It was hard to explain that to someone as career-driven and successful as Oscar.
Oscar and I grew up together in the same neighborhood. I didn’t have siblings, but I had him. I was bigger than him in build, but he had me in height. He was five years older than me, which he loved to rib me about in childhood because he got to do everything fun before I did.
How the tables had turned now that he’s in his mid-thirties.
“Whatever,” I said. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. It’s just an invite, but it will be fun.” I dragged out the last word, adding some teasing to my voice.
“I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.” Oscar sighed. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“Yeah.” Even I could admit that was true. Much to the chagrin of my mother, who wished it worked in the reverse. That wasn’t Oscar’s fault, though.
“You know where we’ll be.” I kept my voice cheerful before hanging up the phone. There was no point in dwelling on my shortcomings; there was too much fun to be had.
Aside from a few tourists and a lone surfer trying to catch a break, the beach was practically abandoned.
Tiny whitecaps broke on the wooden supports beneath the pier.
The sun was shining, sparkling on the water, and the cool ocean breeze would keep me from sweating too much while we played.
Our ragtag group had become close after joining an intramural queer volleyball league together.
Now, we were always finding an excuse to make it to the beach.
We named our team Ace of Baes. It could be hard to negotiate all six of our schedules, but we did our best. Everyone except Oscar was already gathered at Huntington Beach when I arrived.
“I come bearing gifts,” I shouted, raising the purple specialty donut box over my head and kicking off my flip-flops. There weren’t many things I liked better than dirt under my fingernails or sand between my toes. I was a lucky bastard to be able to regularly have both.
“Dude, thank you.” Brian was the first to reach his hand into the donut box, as usual. He was our resident gym bro, with tan muscles covered in tattoos and a short dark beard.
“Yeah, man,” I said. “I saw this place online, and I couldn’t resist checking it out.”
“You’re going to make us all need extra gym time with your impulse purchases.
” Lucas ran his hand through his blond, wavy hair.
He was the only one who’d played volleyball in college until an injury sidelined him.
As our most experienced player, he took on the role of captain and led our practices.
Even though he could be a bit of a stickler, he was a great teammate, and I appreciated that one of us was organized.
Several of us needed full-time wranglers.
“Hey, no toxic diet culture here.” Kat shoved Lucas aside. “Sugar isn’t evil; you don’t have to punish yourself to enjoy it.”
We’d all heard plenty of stories about Kat’s country club almond mom, but Kat embraced her curves. She grabbed the donut with the most sprinkles, split it down the middle, and handed one half to Alex.