21. Mateo
Chapter twenty-one
Mateo
"Ican't believe we haven't made pizza with you two yet," Mom says to Jade and Coop. "But I guess it's never been a Sunday thing, we always made it on Fridays when these two were young." She gestures to me and Addie.
"Mateo was never young," Addie says, earning a laugh from Jade and Coop.
"Fuck off," I say with a smile.
"Friday night pizza on a Sunday," Coop says, elbowing me.
The little shit came through on our deal.
Mom and I spent the morning mixing up pizza dough.
It's my favorite, but I let Mom think it's tacos.
I don't know why, but I can't seem to tell her that as much as I love tacos, they've never been my favorite.
It's always been pizza, and not just any pizza, Friday night pizza.
When I was a kid, we never ordered it. To be honest, we rarely ordered takeout in general.
Abuelo was an amazing cook, and he taught Mom.
Between the two of them, they always made everything from scratch, including Friday night pizza.
But it was never so much about the pizza for me as it was about the feeling in the kitchen.
"Prod don't poke," I tell Jade, demonstrating with my own piece of dough.
Mom coughs, and when I look up at her, she and Dad are sharing a look I can't read.
Dad helps Jade stretch her dough, and Addie helps Coop. Flour covers the counter, the floor, and our clothes. Jade has a streak across her forehead, and Mom is laughing at something Addie said that I missed.
Something I missed because I'm too caught up in the feeling of home. The cacophony of different voices, the rhythm of laughter. This is what Friday night pizza is about. I didn't realize how much I missed it, or how healing it could be.
Until now.
Healing no one else would understand. How could the Mateo Hayes possibly need healing?
That's the thing about mental health and loneliness, it doesn't discriminate.
It doesn't care if you're healthy, or rich, or famous.
It doesn't care if you have a loving family, and absolutely zero worries in the world, it's still gonna fuck you up. For no reason, except that it can.
A cloud of flour puffs in front of Dad's face, and Jade's head tips back in laughter. She catches me staring and sticks out her tongue.
She's been so relaxed tonight, and seeing her like this only confirms the no feelings thing is fucking bullshit.
We finish making pizzas, and Dad volunteers Addie, Jade, and I to clean up what could be labeled a crime scene so Cooper can show him and Mom the secret booby trap he's been working on.
He won't even tell me what it is, and we're supposed to be best friends. Punk.
Addie washes dishes as I wipe down the counter, and Jade scrubs at a spot of dried dough on a cabinet door.
"I'm gonna do it," Addie says out of nowhere, turning the faucet off and spinning to face us.
Jade and I stop what we're doing to look at her.
"Cosmetology school," she says as if we should've known. "Look at you both, I'm fucking good at it."
Jade's smile reaches her eyes. "That's amazing, Ads," she says.
"I haven't told Mom and Dad yet." Addie dries her hands on the towel hanging by the sink.
I hold up my hands. "Mums the word."
"Your move," she says to Jade, propping a hand on her hip. Then she skips out of the kitchen, leaving the remainder of the dishes unwashed.
Jade takes over, and I dry.
"What did she mean by that?" I ask.
Jade sighs. "She wants me to apprentice with Em."
"Why don't you?"
She hands me the bowl she was washing and shuts off the faucet.
"It doesn't pay," she says. "But also, it's not practical."
"What does being practical have to do with it?"
"Nursing is stable."
"But you hate it," I say, putting the bowl away.
"I don't. I mean, I don't like it either, but it'll pay well and there's always a need for nurses. Besides, I don't want to tattoo either." She sighs and leans back against the counter. "If I led a different life, I'd be in art school."
"It's not too late."
"Dude, it's not in the cards."
"So make it in the cards. What would you tell Coop if you found out he was settling on the next thirty years of his life?"
Her tongue spins the ring in her lip, and I risk it all, stealing a chaste kiss.
Her eyes go wide, and she touches her fingers to her lips, surprised.
"Mateo, check the pizzas," Mom says wandering back into the kitchen.
Jade takes a flustered step back and quickly excuses herself to go find Addie.
"I don't want to know," Mom says, cornering me by the oven. "But if there's something happening there, you better tell your sister before she never forgives either of you."
"Nothing's happening," I lie, handing her an oven mitt.
"It's going to though, isn't it?" she asks, tilting her head, studying me. "Even if she can't see it yet."
She asks, but apparently she doesn't expect an answer because she smacks me with the mitt, shooing me away from the oven.
After dinner, Kyler FaceTimes me and I excuse myself to the living room.
The baby is so fucking cute and so tiny.
I don't remember ever seeing a baby that small.
I told him as much, and he said she eats all day long, so she must have his metabolism.
It was good seeing him, the baby, and his wife.
I promised to visit when I'm back in town.
Now I'm scrolling through Jade's "JaggedLines" account. This is what she should be doing. Not fucking nursing. The look on her face when she was studying last week while she waited to pick up Cooper was actual fucking torture.
"Dude." Coop plops next to me on to the couch.
"Hmm?" I toss my phone face down on the coffee table hoping he didn't see what I was looking at.
The punk pokes me in the leg. "I did my part, your turn."
Right our deal. Friday night pizza in exchange for baring my soul.
"How long have you worn glasses?" I ask him.
His brows furrow. "I don't remember not wearing them."
"Exactly," I say. "I don't remember not having a baseball glove."
"But you don't wear one everyday all day, how is it the same?"
"My mitt was part of me, part of my identity. Without it, I feel naked."
"You could put it on."
"I feel naked on the inside, too. This tattoo reminds me that baseball will always be a part of me, but I'm still me without it, even if I'm still figuring out who that is."
For a second, I think I've gone too deep with him, that it's gone over his too smart eight-year-old head, but then he pushes to his knees and wraps his little arms around my shoulders as far as they can go and squeezes me tight.
"Whoever you are," he says, still hugging me, "I hope he stays."
Over his head, Jade stares at us. I can't read her expression. What does she see on mine? Her shoulders fall, in relief or resignation, I'm not sure.
Coop releases me, and I think part of me goes with him. Who knew kids could be so perceptive?
"Time for dessert," Jade says from the edge of the living room as if she just came in.
"I've never had tira-mee-sue before," Coop says, jumping from the couch. He's out of the room before I can even stand.
Jade stares at me.
"I—" I start, but I don't know what to say.
"Your dad's the first man I've allowed in his life," she says. Her chest rises and falls. "But for whatever reason, he's taken to you. Probably because you're a giant child yourself." She shakes her head. "I don't like it."
"Jade," I say, finally reaching her.
She tilts her head and purses her lips.
"I don't like it," she repeats. "But I think you're good for him. And I can't believe I'm doing this." She squeezes her eyes shut, and opens them again, her deep brown eyes like quicksand, pulling me under. "I'm begging you not to let any of this—" she gestures between us— "destroy that."
She's gone before I can tell her I have no intention of leaving. Her or him.