Chapter 49
SELENA
Mamá made enchiladas de pollo con salsa verde for everyone and they’re so good. I haven’t had her cooking in months.
While I’m standing in the kitchen getting seconds, I look at my parents sitting at the small island.
Grayson and Sammy are on the large couch and Jess and her mom have the love seat.
It’s so strange to have so many of my favorite people all in one place.
It’s even stranger to include Grayson Rhodes among them.
When I meet his eyes across the room, for some reason I remember the conversation we had in the hospital.
I think you repay your parents’ sacrifice by following your own dreams, not by relinquishing them.
I think he’s right. I hope he’s right.
“I’m not giving up soccer after graduation.”
I finish saying the words and hold my breath. Both Mamá and Papá turn towards me, their eyes full of confusion and disbelief.
“Que!?”
“I’m going to keep playing,” I tell them.
Sammy chokes on his drink. Jess is nodding proudly as she takes another bite of her enchiladas.
Ms. Ochoa’s eyes are wide as she looks between me and my parents.
If Letty was here she would be jumping up and down, happy for me, but she’s not here.
Grayson is though. He’s smiling, two dimples on full display.
“Como que vas a jugar?!” Mamá cries, standing, her green eyes wide with fury and...and fear? That can’t be right.
“Think about your future, mija,” Papá says.
“Quiero seguir jugando,” I assure them, nearly shaking with nerves.
I never contradict my parents. I’ve always done as they asked.
I didn’t go out with friends or to dances.
I got a part-time job to help pay bills.
I’m getting a degree to pursue a career they’ll be proud of.
“I’m good enough to keep playing,” I rasp, swallowing down years of keeping my mouth shut, of being afraid to take up space, and having to apologize for wanting more. “I think I can do it.”
“Piensas que lo puedes hacer?” Mamá snaps, but she doesn’t yell. Her voice is controlled, ready to strike.
“Hey!” Jess stands up. “I have a new dress I’m sewing—”
“Sammy, Grayson, you should go see it, too,” I say, interrupting Jess, who’s dragging her mom away to her room.
“Are you sure, bro?” Sammy asks, his brown eyes full of determination. I appreciate his unwavering support, but this is between me and them. Besides, if he stays, Mamá might deflect and take it out on him.
“I’m sure,” I nod and watch as he follows behind Jess.
Grayson’s the last to get up. “I’ll see if the bakery’s still open,” he says, heading to the door. He knows it is. He’s bought me enough pan dulce and churros to know their hours of operation by now.
As he leaves, his eyes are on me, urging me to keep going. I do just that.
I tell my parents I’ve been wanting to play professionally since I was a little girl. I tell them scouts have been trying to get me to sign with them since I was a freshman at TLU. I tell them I’m one of the top defenders in all of the country.
It feels like I’m bragging or showing off.
I’m not. These are facts. But, growing up, Mamá always told me, “No seas presumida.” So, I learned to hide who I was.
I wasn’t supposed to draw too much attention to myself, so I didn’t.
In her eyes, it was better to shrink myself, to try and blend in because otherwise I would never belong.
Papá wraps his arms around me. “Do not cry, mijita.”
I hadn’t realized I was. I wipe my eyes and try to smile, reminding them, “I’m still graduating. If soccer doesn’t work out, I’ll have my college degree to fall back on.”
Papá hugs me tight. Mamá doesn’t move from the kitchen island. She doesn’t say anything. Not while everyone returns to finish their dinner. Not as Sammy and I drive them to the airport in my car. Not as we say our goodbyes before they fly back home.
“You okay?” Jess asks me.
Grayson gave her and her mom a ride to the airport. Now, we’ve switched passengers and it’s just the two of us in my car.
“No.”
How can I be? I want to cry and laugh and call my parents to explain myself further.
I hate the idea of disappointing them. More than anything, I want them to be proud of me even if I know they’ll never say it out loud.
Honestly, it hurts that Mamá decided to give me the silent treatment.
Papá at least told me he would support me no matter what I decided, even if he didn’t think it was the right choice.
With a heavy heart, I drive us home. We’re quiet for most of the way. When we do talk, it’s about the game and upcoming playoffs.
My thoughts are going a mile a minute though. I focus on one idea that can help me get something done.
“Can you call Letty?”
“Right now?” Jess asks, grabbing my phone.
“Yup,” I nod. “If I’m going to keep playing, I need my agent to find somewhere for me to play.”