Mayte
“HEYYY YEAH YEAH!” LEO BELTS INTO HER HAIRbrUSH ALONGSIDE Selena, throwing her head back and beginning to dance around her room.
I can never quite get the footwork for the cumbia right the way Leo does, but my family has assured me that if Latinas just move their hips a little, everyone thinks they know how to dance. It’s worked thus far.
“Here, let me do you now,” Claire says, patting the chair in front of Leo’s mirror.
Her blond hair is perfectly straight except for two braids framing each side of her face.
Her lipstick is a strange pinkish purple that only she could pull off, her eyelids covered in pink glitter. I sit down in front of her.
Leo is singing the first verse of “Bidi Bidi Bom Bom,” one of the Spanish parts that I can’t sing straight through, and dances over to us. “You look like a sexy alien,” she tells Claire and kisses her cheek, leaving a bright red lipstick print. “In the best way.”
“Hell yes,” Claire says, kissing Leo’s cheek back. “It’s totally a vibe.”
“What are you going to do to her?” Leo asks. I can still see her cumbia-ing in the mirror, dark hair hanging in two low pigtails, black crop top, cargo pants. She, as always, looks completely perfect.
“Ooh!” Claire runs her brush through my hair. “What if we meet halfway? You’ve got your bombshell, I’ve got my alien. We go for—”
“Bombshell alien,” they both say at the same time. We all laugh.
“I’ve missed you guys,” I say. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages.”
“Yeah, because you’re always busy,” Claire says. She pulls one side of my hair into a little bun.
I groan. “I know. It was Abuelita Duty, and you know how my mom was just losing her shit over the cancer, so I had to deal with her. Now someone always has to be home with Aida, which just ends up being me. It’s so frustrating.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” Claire says. “I get it.”
“I had Abuelita Duty all the time too. So it wasn’t just you, anyway,” Leo says, then goes back to Bidi-Bidi-Bom-Bom-ing.
“You guys can come over one of these nights,” I say. “I just have to be home while Aida’s home. She likes sitting and watching TV, so it’s not a big deal.”
Claire ties up the other bun and then brushes out the hair she’s left hanging down. “What do you think?” she asks.
I squeeze the two buns. “I love them. This is too cute.”
Leo tosses me her red lipstick, and as I apply it, she pours vodka shots. Pretty sure this is the third for each of us.
“?Salud!” Leo shouts.
“?Salud!” Claire and I say back.
We hold our liquor pretty well, but I grab Claire’s and Leo’s water bottles and hand them over.
“Drink,” I say.
Claire rolls her eyes. “Yes, Mom.” But she and Leo do as I say.
“What kind of playlist is this, anyway?” I ask as a mushy Taylor Swift song comes on. Leo begins swaying and twirling around to it.
“It’s a ‘the love of my life is coming to my house’ playlist,” Leo says. “So shut up and let me swoon.”
“We want to pregame!” Claire says. “We want to pump up! This is not pump-up music.” She looks over at me. “Actually, I’m probably the only one here who doesn’t want a ‘my crush is coming over’ playlist tonight. Fifth wheel.”
“I don’t have a crush on Auggie,” I say without missing a beat.
“Okay, so that way that you look at him whenever he walks in means nothing,” Leo says, rolling her eyes but still smiling.
Do I look at him in a way?
“Didn’t you guys, like, go on another date or something?” Claire asks. “Leo said you guys got coffee.”
“It wasn’t a date.” I stick my tongue out at Leo. “Someone decided to stand me up, so he had to drive me instead.”
“So what you’re saying is you could’ve texted and asked me to come,” Claire says. “But instead you asked a boy who you’ve been claiming to not be into, but who you’re constantly talking to and who you get all blushy and nervous around. But it totally wasn’t a date. And it’s totally not a crush.”
Before either of them can say anything else, I change the song. Both Claire and Leo perk up. I grin. Saved by Shakira.
“This is more like it!” Claire says as the three of us begin to move to the masterful beats of the Colombian songstress.
We’re all laughing as we dramatically dance, spinning around the room together, and for a moment, I feel like I can shrug off everything.
For a moment. I’ll pick it back up in a moment.
“They’re here!” Leo sings as she whirls toward her bedroom door.
“Wait!” Claire shouts.
Leo and I go silent as Claire points at both of us. The line about moving like you’re from Colombia hits. I glance at Leo and we both dance our hearts out.
“?Wepa!” we yell at each other, moving our hips and twirling around.
Then Claire grabs Leo’s phone from the bed, turns off the music, and puts her arms around our shoulders, leading us to the door. “Let’s go, girls,” she says.
I can feel it in my hands. The buzzy, floating feeling in my palms. That’s usually the first way I can tell. Then the heavy, sleepy way my head rolls from Claire’s shoulder along the top of the couch to Auggie’s shoulder and back.
“What was the dog’s name again?” I ask, head landing on Auggie’s shoulder. “Michelangelo or—”
“Georgio,” Auggie says.
“Georgio!” I say, sitting up. “I keep imagining this fancy dog. Like a fancy dog in a bow tie and a top hat dancing with a cane and, like, barking a jazz song and—” I burst out laughing and Leo and Claire do too.
Auggie’s smile is taking up his face. Not the cheeky smile he smiles when he gets an insult in on me, but the cute little, sweet little soft one that I like on him.
“That’s such a stupid name for a dog.” The smile disappears.
“Ignore her,” Leo says. “She’s not usually a bitch; she’s just drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” I say. “I’m tipsy.” I think I’m telling the truth. Two mango White Claws and a few vodka shots. I feel like I’ll remember tonight tomorrow. I’m just gonna need to hit the kitchen for water and something carb-y soon. “And anyway, I’m always a bitch to Auggie.”
“It’s how she shows she cares,” Claire says.
“It’s how she shows she looooooves you,” Leo croons at Auggie. Janko sits on the arm of the chair she’s in, and she lays her head on his leg. “My prima likes your best friend.”
“Of course I like Auggie,” I say, and lean my head on his shoulder. “As a friend.” I nudge him to look at me and he does. “Am I allowed to say that? That we’re friends? Or are we still only pretending? Do you still hate me?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.
He rolls his eyes, but that smile is sneaking onto his face again. “I don’t hate you. And you can say whatever you want.”
“Oh, and as my favorite writer. I also like Auggie as my favorite writer.” I bounce a bit in my seat, the buzzing in my body wrapping warm around my brain.
“Like, the fancy dog story. I like that way better than anything we’ve read in Lit this year.
Oh, oh, oh and the freaky one where the writer literally starves to death. ”
Janko pumps his fist. “Oh yeah! ‘Winter’s Teeth’ fucking rules!”
“Right? He sent a bunch of stories to me after our coffee date.” I hold a finger up. “Not date. Coffee meeting. Friend-Coffee-Get-Together.”
“Friend-Coffee-Get-Together,” Claire mutters, giggling to herself.
“Hold your hand up,” I say to Auggie. His face is so red, but he does what I say and I place my palm against his. “They’re such writer hands.” I trace my finger around both our hands. “They’re bigger than mine, and your fingers are so long and smooth and pretty. ”
“Pretty?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Pretty writer hands.” I take his chin between my fingers, squishing his cheeks. “And look at his cute little smile.” I turn to Leo and Janko. They’re making out. I turn my head back the other way, staring at Auggie. “Why won’t you just do a shot?”
He laughs and gently shoves me away. “Mayte, get off me. You’re so annoying and you’re worse when you’re drunk.”
I lay my head on his lap and my feet across Claire’s. “I’m not drunk, I’m—”
“Drunk,” he says with a grin.
The cute smile is gone. The mischievous one has taken over. I hold eye contact with him. Blue. So blue they’re almost gray. Maybe I am drunk. His eyes are so pretty. I am sober enough to know I do not love him, and I do not like him, I think, but he has pretty eyes and a cute smile and—
“I’m drunk and need water and I didn’t realize your eyes were that blue, but that doesn’t mean I want to kiss you,” I say to him.
“I didn’t think it did,” Auggie says, holding my gaze.
My stomach does a somersault.
“Let me see your eyes,” Claire says, staring into Auggie’s face. “Ooh, they are pretty.”
“I want to see,” Janko says, jumping off the chair and grabbing Auggie’s cheeks. He stares into his eyes. “Man, they’re right, they’re beautiful. I’ve never noticed that before.”
“Stop,” Auggie says, pulling his face from Janko’s hands and covering his eyes. “You guys are the worst.”
“For thinking you have pretty eyes?” I ask.
“I am this close to taking you up on drinks, just so I don’t have to deal with you all simultaneously hitting on me while I’m sober. And I already swore off drinking,” Auggie says.
“You swore off drinking forever after puking in the pool once?” Leo asks.
“I didn’t say it was forever.” He looks at Claire. “Tell Mayte to stop peer pressuring me.”
“Stop peer pressuring him,” Claire says to me. Turns to Auggie. “And you, stop being such a baby. Vomiting every time you smell a beer isn’t going to make you friends in college.”
Auggie rolls his eyes. “Peer pressuring isn’t a good way to make friends in college either. Nobody wants to—”
“Good thing I’m not going to fucking college,” I say, louder than I mean to.
“You’re not going to college?” Janko asks. “What… are you going to do?”
The room goes silent.
“What if we just don’t talk about college and… futures and… all that?” Leo says.
“Okay,” Auggie says, trying to end the conversation exactly where it is.
“Because Mayte’s here, so we can’t talk about college!” I say, sitting up.