Chapter 1 #2
Every morning after, I braced myself for him not to turn around.
But every day he did, offering a smile or a bite of his breakfast sandwich or a story about how he fell off his longboard that morning, with the scrapes and bruises to prove it.
He came around Sunny Hills more often, too.
Spent more time with Mrs. Thompson, wheeling her around the facility as if he were a Formula One driver, ignoring her protests as he whizzed her down the hall to the cafeteria.
Soon he was coming to visit her every Tuesday and Sunday—the same days I was volunteering.
The Thompsons may have moved to town three months after Papi’s trial was over, but ours isn’t the kind of story a town this small forgets.
He would have learned about me within weeks, if not days.
Who my family is. What my dad did. Most people avoided us, and in the few forced interactions I’ve had since the trial, disgust and distrust simmer just beneath the surface.
But that’s never been the case with Kai.
He’s the only person I can talk to who doesn’t feel like they’re just waiting to run away.
The only person who actually seems interested in me.
Still, every day I wait for him to turn his back on me like the rest of the world has.
Hopefully today isn’t that day.
“Dina!” Arlene, resident director of Sunny Hills, barks at me as soon as I step out of the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Kai bent beside his grandma, helping her pull open the tab on her pudding cup. “Are you bringing that gauze over or not?”
One reason I would’ve left by now if it weren’t for Kai and the sweeter residents: Arlene, who acts like I should be grateful to her for showing me basic human decency and not totally shunning me.
I almost wish she’d treat me like the rest of the world does.
At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with her.
I pry my attention away from Kai and grab a packet of gauze from the supply closet down the hall, then rush back. The last thing I need is Arlene more pissed than she usually is.
“Did you mop the cafeteria?” she asks once I’ve handed off the gauze.
“Not yet,” I reply, already grabbing the mop and bucket beside her before she can scold me for not finishing the job sooner.
I stick to the corners, mopping the faded beige tile until my reflection slowly comes into view.
It feels pointless, polishing something so worn with years of baked-in grime, but that doesn’t matter to Arlene.
Half the tasks she gives me are just to keep me busy.
The other half are things she doesn’t want to bother doing herself.
“New dress?” a voice calls out from behind me.
The rapid badum badum badum of my heart echoes in my ears as I whip around to face Kai, my hair smacking me in the face and clinging to the clear gloss I’d applied in the bathroom.
“Birthday gift from my mom,” I say, because I can’t tell him the truth, and the lie comes out as smooth as it had to Mami.
“When’s your birthday?” Kai asks with a smile, leaning up against the pillar beside him.
I duck my head sheepishly, cheeks warm as I mumble, “Today.”
Kai’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he teases, knocking his fist against my shoulder—goose bumps blooming along my bare arm. “The cafeteria’s still open for a few more minutes. Let me buy you a cupcake.”
He’s already walking backward toward the food counter, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, and it takes more strength than I anticipated to shake my head. I’m already on thin ice with Arlene—blowing off her orders to go eat dessert with Kai won’t do me any favors. “It’s okay,” I reassure him.
His smile drops into a dramatic pout. “You sure?” He sighs when I nod, letting his arms fall limply at his sides. He walks back over to me slowly, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Well, your mom has good taste,” he says, eyeing the bodice of my dress with a smile. “Green’s your color. Makes your eyes pop.”
When Kai’s gaze meets mine, all sounds fall away—the distant hum of the TV, the clack of the receptionist’s keyboard, the scratch of canes and walkers on the cracked tile.
There’s nothing left in the world but him, his smile, and the way I look in the reflection of his eyes.
Soft and sweet and beautiful—a version of myself I never thought I could be.
I resist the urge to lean in, to pull him by the collar of his jacket and do all the things I’ve been told I shouldn’t want.
Press my lips to his, run my fingers down the smooth plane of his arms, hold him tight until he can feel the rhythm of my heartbeat—a song written for him.
I swear he leans in closer, not afraid to cross that line. The smell of him—soap and spiced cologne—surrounds me like fog. I’m not sure what he’ll do but I’m ready for all of it, bracing myself for something I know I should regret but won’t.
“Kai!” Mrs. Thompson shouts, popping our bubble. “Quit flirtin’ and help me back to my room.”
The pounding in my ears is so loud I don’t hear what Kai shouts back, my limbs heavy as I sink back down to the ground, not realizing that I’d leaned up onto my tiptoes. I’m not as good at resisting as I thought.
“Sorry, Good Grandson Duty calls,” Kai says, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy smile.
He heads back toward his grandma while I collapse onto the column he’d been leaning against. I whip back to attention when he turns around, trying to wipe the lovestruck grin off my face as he calls out, “Were you planning on going to the Halloween dance next Friday? I can make it up to you then. Buy you a belated spooky birthday cookie or something.”
“O-oh.” My fingers curl into fists, nails digging into the smooth flesh of my palms. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll…” I trail off, unsure what I’m willing to promise.
Deep in my gut, I know the answer is no—that Mami won’t let me.
The only reason I’m able to volunteer at Sunny Hills is because I convinced her it would give my college applications a boost, even though we both know college is the kind of expense we’d never be able to afford.
Still, we like to hold on to some of our old dreams. All the things that once felt possible.
I’d have a job if anyone was willing to hire me.
We’ve never said it out loud, but I know we’re all praying that by the time I graduate next year people will have forgotten about us.
About Papi. That businesses will be willing to have a Soto at their register or stocking their back room without attracting the wrong kind of attention.
We’re lucky Mami was able to find a job bagging groceries at a Costco two towns over, but we know we can’t count on lightning to strike twice.
Until things change, Mami insists we stay close to home.
She’s always been protective, even before Papi’s trial.
Even before we lost my older brother, Joel.
What was once just her holding us close now felt like a vise grip—harsh and suffocating.
I’m lucky to have Sunny Hills. If I didn’t, I’d only ever be allowed to leave for the essentials.
Groceries. School. Doctors’ appointments.
A Halloween dance is not essential.
“I’ll find out tonight,” I manage to choke out, wondering if I’ve made a mistake.
But I know I haven’t when he gives me that radiant smile again, so bright it feels like the best kind of blinding. He backs away slowly, eyes fixed on mine as he holds up his linked fingers. “Fingers crossed.”
I whip around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him wheeling Mrs. Thompson toward the elevator in the mirror mounted on the wall behind me, but he’s already out of view.
All I can see is a girl in an olive-green dress patterned with daisies.
Rosy cheeks and soft brown curls. Glossy lips tugged into a smile she didn’t think she still had in her. A girl I wouldn’t have recognized.
I run my hand along the neckline of the dress again, down the hollow of my throat until my heartbeat thrums beneath my fingertips.
Finally, I feel something close to happiness.
Finally, I feel beautiful. Finally, I feel hopeful for something sweet and good and pure.
Finally, I have a shot at something that I don’t have to steal for it to be mine.
And I don’t regret a thing.