Chapter 18 – Mateo
Chapter Eighteen
MATEO
I’m trying to relish my day off—emphasis on trying. I slept in. Made myself breakfast. I even managed to sit on the porch with my coffee and pretend things were fine for a full twelve minutes. But the silence? It’s loud.
Analyse still hasn’t texted or called. I’ve checked my phone so many times, and every single time I don’t see that one new message notification, I have to suppress the urge to chuck my phone across the room.
Not a single word from her, and now I’m stuck in that weird space between should I give her room and should I just call her and get it over with. The worst part of all of this is that I’m still unclear on what is causing the sudden weirdness and silence. I don’t even know what I did.
But I can’t just sit on my hands either.
Yesterday I dropped lunch off at the school office—real food, not the sad salads she pretends are meals—without signing my name.
Just left it there because I knew she wouldn’t take it otherwise.
Last night I left daisies on her porch, no note.
She’s always loved them. They were gone by morning, but she never said a word.
This morning, I left a stack of new books for Maya on their porch with a note that said, New mysteries for Maya.
Nothing back. Not a word. But at least she knows I’m thinking of her. At least she knows I’m trying.
Whatever it is, it’s eating at me. I thought things were good. I thought we were good. But something’s changed, something’s shifted…and I hate not knowing what. I toss my empty coffee cup in the sink and head out. I’m in desperate need of a haircut.
I step inside Angie’s shop, and I’m immediately wrapped in the warm scent of hairspray, coconut oil, and warm blow-dried hair. I should’ve turned around the second I walked in and felt the tension crackle through the air like static. But I didn’t. Because I’m a damn fool.
“Rodriguez,” Angie says without looking up from the head of curls she’s working on. Her voice is flat—polite, but barely. “Didn’t think I’d see you today.”
I nod, a little caught off guard. “Hey, Ang. I’m just here for a quick cut,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
Angie hums, still not looking up. “You want the usual?”
“Yeah.”
She finishes sectioning off the client’s hair before finally glancing my way. “Take a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
I head to the second chair, keeping my eyes on the tile floor.
The shop’s quiet aside from the low hum of a dryer in the back.
A few minutes later, she clips the cape around my neck with more force than necessary.
Not painful, but definitely on purpose. What did I do to her? What’s with the women in my life?
“You been keeping busy?” she asks, tone casual.
I glance at her in the mirror. “Yeah, I guess.”
She raises a brow. “At the gym, maybe?”
And there it is. I shift in the chair. “You wanna ask something, Ang, just ask it.”
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, sharp and unblinking. “You and Letty. You two back on or something?”
I blink. “Back on? We’ve never been on before. There’s no getting back with someone I’ve never been with.”
“Hmm.” She turns on the clippers and starts trimming the back of my neck, each stroke of the blades just shy of aggressive. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not with Letty. I’ve never been with Letty. I don’t know why this is even coming up.”
“Funny,” she says. “Because she’s been acting like you are. Been in here twice this week, name-dropping you, saying how you always tell her that you and Analyse aren’t serious.”
My pulse jumps. “She what?”
Angie scoffs. “She told Dee and Jolene that you two are reconnecting. She said you’ve been working out together, grabbing coffee, and that Analyse is just a fling.
And I have to say, Mateo, this really pisses me the hell off!
You know what that girl has been through.
I don’t think I’ve seen her date since that idiot Nico left her, and now you’re playing her? You’ve got some nerve.”
I turned in the chair despite the cape. “That’s a lie.”
She levels me with a look. “You sure about that?”
“Yes!” I say, too loud. “She showed up at the gym. I didn’t invite her. I didn’t ask her to work out with me. And I sure as hell didn’t say any of that.”
Angie crosses her arms. “Well, she’s saying it. And people are believing it.”
I rub a hand down my face. “Jesus. Why would she even—”
“Because she wants you,” Angie cuts in. “And she knows you’re taken. Or…were.”
I freeze. “What does that mean?”
Her voice softens a fraction. “I saw Analyse yesterday. She seemed off. Different. She looked…rough. She didn’t say much, but I know heartbreak when I see it.”
My stomach sinks. “She didn’t respond to my last text,” I mutter.
“Well,” Angie says, spinning my chair toward the mirror, “now you know why.”
I stare at my reflection. The cape is still snug around my neck, my jaw locked so tight it aches. My face looks the same, but inside, I’m unraveling.
“She won’t even talk to me,” I say again, softer this time.
Angie leans back against the counter behind her, arms still crossed. “Then maybe you need to do something more than talk.”
I swallow hard. “I didn’t know she was hurting. I didn’t even know what was going on.”
“That’s the problem,” she fires back. “You should’ve.”
Silence stretches between us. The buzz of the clippers is gone, but the hum of tension remains.
“Fuck. I thought…” I shake my head. “I thought things were good. I thought she knew that I’d never do anything like that.”
Angie snorts. “You thought she knew? No offense, Mateo, you know I love you, but you don’t exactly have the best reputation.
You’ve been with girls left and right. And Analyse doesn’t have the luxury of taking chances, but she did take one, on you.
You need to make her feel safe. Letty’s out here writing fanfiction about you two. ”
I grit my teeth again. “Letty’s lying. I never said any of that. And I haven’t touched her.”
“Then you better find a way to make that crystal clear. To everyone.” She picks up a comb and towel, starts sweeping hair off my neck with more force than necessary.
“I didn’t ask her to come to the gym,” I mutter. “I didn’t even want her there.”
“Then why’d you let her stay?”
“I felt bad…I was trying to be a nice guy.”
The door chimes as someone walks in. Angie lifts a hand to the new customer then gives me a pointed look and drops her voice. “I’m finishing your cut, but after that? You’re on your own, lover boy.”
I nod, guilt tightening like a vise in my chest. Minutes pass in silence. Snip, snip. Clip, comb. When she’s done, she undoes the cape and shakes the hair onto the floor, not bothering to brush the stray pieces off my shoulders. I stand and slide the money on the counter. She doesn’t reach for it.
“Fix it,” she says. “Before there’s nothing left to fix.”
I nod again, unsure if my legs will even carry me out the door. The weight of everything Angie said sits heavy on my shoulders.
I push through the door, the bell overhead chiming behind me, and the later afternoon air slaps me in the face. I’m halfway to my truck when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fumble to pull it out, my fingers suddenly clumsy.
One new message from Analyse. My heart jumps into my throat.
Analyse
Hey.
My thumbs hover for a beat too long. What do I even say? What tone do I take?
Mateo
Hi, chula.
Three dots appear. Vanish. Then come back again. My chest tightens with every passing second.
Analyse
Sorry I haven’t texted you. It’s been busy.
Busy. That could mean anything. Busy avoiding me. Busy untangling her heart from mine. Busy convincing herself I’m not worth the risk. I take a breath and remind myself this is her reaching out. She didn’t have to.
Mateo
That’s okay. I’m just happy to hear from you now. Are you okay?
Another pause. Longer this time. I start pacing the sidewalk in front of the barber shop, phone tight in my grip.
Analyse
Yeah…Can you come over? I think we should have a talk.
The bottom drops out of my stomach. A talk. That could mean anything. Sweat begins to creep down my neck.
Mateo
Of course. I was thinking the same thing.
I slip my phone back into my pocket, hop into my truck, and start it up. Every mile between me and her house suddenly feels like too many.
The drive to Analyse’s place feels longer than it should. My thoughts keep cycling through everything Angie said. Letty’s lies. Analyse’s silence. Her face, looking “rough.”
I park down the street from her house, heart hammering against my ribs. The sun’s just starting to dip, casting everything in dusky gold.
I step onto the porch and knock. Lightly at first, then again.
Firmer. A full minute passes. No answer.
I raise my hand to knock again, but before I can, the door creaks open.
Analyse stands there in sweats, an oversize hoodie drowning her frame.
Angie might have said she was looking rough, but that’s not what I see.
There are darker circles under her eyes than usual, and I swear I’ll find out why, but even like this she’s beautiful. She always is.
“Hey,” I say, voice rough.
“Hi.”
She opens the door, stepping aside to let me in. I step inside, and the door clicks shut behind me. Her scent lingers in the air—she smells like strawberries. I follow her into the living room.
“Where’s Maya?”
“She’s still with Seb. He said he hadn’t had a proper tio date in too long.”
“Ahh. Okay. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I am fine, Mateo.”
“Yeah, so then why did you basically kick me out the other night?”
“I told you…I had an early morning.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?”
“I said bullshit. You’ve had many early mornings, Lyse, and not once have you ever run me out of your house the way you did that night. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She takes a deep breath and then sits beside me on her couch. “Letty texted me that night.”
“And tell me, what did that she-devil say?”