Chapter Eighteen Kenny
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KENNY
T he two weeks after the engagement passed with an overwhelming amount of congratulations from anyone who’d ever met me or Han. With everything so chaotic, before I knew it, it was the day of our engagement party.
Han and I usually skipped out on my mom’s parties, but since she insisted on hosting, we had to at least show up. If it were up to me, we would have skipped it anyway, but Han refused to disappoint my mom.
When I got home from work, I found Han hunched over the table, poring over his laptop and several notebooks. The bags under his eyes were visible from the door.
“You okay?” I asked as I made my way over.
“Just figuring out wedding stuff. How are we supposed to afford any of this?”
I stood behind him so I could see what he was reading. Absentmindedly, I rubbed his shoulders as I scanned the screen, and I could feel him relax into the touch.
“You know you don’t have to do this by yourself, right?”
Han sighed. “I know. I just wanted to figure out some things. I don’t know shit about wedding planning, and neither do you.”
I sat in the chair next to Han. “I was planning on tapping my mom for help. Party planning is, like, her thing.”
“Shit! The party!” Han slammed his laptop shut and rushed to his room.
“It’s okay if we’re a little late!” I shouted before going to my own room to change.
Before long, Han was dressed and ready to go, while I was still picking out an outfit. Han was definitely the punctual one between us. Even if I sometimes didn’t feel Mexican enough, at least I had the whole “operating off Mexican time” thing going for me.
“Ten bucks says your family will be later than we are,” I called out as I rolled up my long sleeves.
“ándale pues,” Han urged. “If you want my money, let’s go .”
I walked out of my room only to realize we were wearing the exact same outfit. Black jeans. Purple button-up. Sleeves rolled. We both burst out laughing, and I turned around to change again, but Han grabbed my hand.
“Don’t even think about it! We’re leaving.”
By the time we got to the party, half the block was lined with cars belonging to my extended family, along with one car for Han’s.
We walked from the car hand in hand, but when we reached the door, Han unexpectedly pulled me in for a kiss. I couldn’t say I was complaining. I was starting to rather enjoy Han’s kisses, expected or not. It turned out Han’s family—plus Tatiana, who seemed to be there with Leti—were walking toward us, which had to be why Han was putting on a show. I kissed him back while they approached, and the warmth filling my insides protected me against the cold night air. But I was afraid if we kept kissing I wouldn’t be able to stop, so I pulled away breathlessly.
I’d been worried about feeling lonely after the breakup, but so far I didn’t. Was that thanks to Han? I loved Han, but I didn’t want to love him in that way. I couldn’t let myself use him as a rebound. He deserved so much better. This was too important for me to go complicating things. I just had to channel Han and ignore my feelings. Maybe we needed to cool it with the kissing. I’d have to bring it up to him after the party.
“You guys are adorable. Gross.” Mariana fake gagged.
“Leave them alone!” Leti said.
“Love the matching outfits!” Tatiana said before she hugged Han while Leti hugged me; then they switched.
When we all got inside, Nacho reached over and nudged Han.
“If you keep doing pinche PDA like that, you gonna have to join the band,” he said, and I laughed. No matter how many times Han told Nacho he had to work or didn’t want to join the band, Nacho stayed persistent, bringing it up in the randomest moments.
“What does PDA have to do with your band?” Han didn’t look annoyed. Probably because Nacho’s attempts were a little endearing.
“You’re in a band?” my little cousin Angelica asked, eyes wide.
“A mariachi band!” Nacho stood straight, practically singing the word “mariachi.”
“Can you play a song?” Angelica asked with starry eyes.
“I’ll get my instruments!” Nacho said, and it didn’t escape me that he’d said “instruments” plural. Han was getting roped into the show, and I was going to enjoy every second of it. I loved hearing Han sing, but he rarely did publicly without Nacho’s coaxing.
“Have you eaten?” My mom ushered Han and me into the kitchen, where chicken, carne asada, tortillas, beans, rice, and toppings like jicama slaw and salsa covered the island. I made a plate to share with Han. If I had to run around socializing, I was at least going to get some good food out of this. We went back to the living room, where Nacho was already standing with a guitar and guitarrón. He handed the guitar to Han, who slumped and groaned but took it.
“Aaaaaa-ha-ha-haaaiiii!” Nacho sang all high-pitched, and I caught Han smiling. They played a song I didn’t recognize but enjoyed all the same. Han’s voice was like velvet. Smooth and soft, but it carried throughout the room. Nacho’s voice, on the other hand, bellowed. They complemented each other well. Listening to them sing together might have made this party worth it.
Once the song was over, Han handed the guitar back to Nacho.
“Not bad, bro!” Han said with a grin.
“Not your bro, mijo. Pero si, that was, como se dice… fire.”
I shook my head, laughing. Han’s inability to give a compliment without the “bro” honorific was both cute and extremely annoying when directed my way. Wait, was it okay to be thinking of Han as cute, while trying to keep him from becoming a rebound? To be fair, Han being cute was just an objective fact, right? It didn’t mean I had feelings just for acknowledging it. Maybe I could think of Han as cute as long as I was being objective about it.
Nacho continued attempting to convince Han to join the band for a couple of minutes, with no luck. Then my aunt Rachel—who came from Arizona for this party with my tío Edgar—interrupted the conversation, grabbing our attention while Nacho brought the instruments back to the car. Rachel married into the family years ago, and she was always eager to welcome anyone else who married in.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you! Welcome to the family!” Rachel said, shaking Han’s hand vigorously. “Are you Han’s mother?” Rachel turned to Tía Mary and shook her hand next.
“Pretty much.” Han smiled at his tía. “She’s my tía, but she raised me.”
“Where are your parents?” Rachel asked, blunt as always.
“Aunt Rachel…” I started, but Han was already answering.
“Mexico.”
“Oh right, I forgot!” She snapped her fingers as if remembering where she put her keys. I didn’t know Rachel had any idea about Han being undocumented. I’d only told my mom once in confidence… Dammit. I should have known I couldn’t trust my mom not to gossip. “Did you have to get locked in the back of a truck to cross? I saw that in a movie.”
My jaw dropped at her audacity. Before I could change the subject to save Han from reliving any of that, he was already answering.
“Um, yeah, but it wasn’t really like the movies…” This was not a story I’d ever been privy to, and I didn’t want to hear it for the first time in front of my gossiping aunts. They were starting to gather around, and Han looked like he might run away. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Mariana, Leti, and Han’s tíos had already been pulled away to greet my parents, but Han and I were stuck with Rachel, since she kept asking follow-up questions. I wanted nothing more than to whisk Han away and tell him he didn’t have to talk about any of this, ever.
Rachel took a step closer, so only me and Han could hear. “Is that why you’re getting married?”
“What? Aunt Rachel, that’s—” I started, but she interrupted.
“It’s okay if it is,” she said, miming the motion of zipping her lips.
“It’s not like that,” Han said.
“Don’t worry. I’m just messing with you guys.” She laughed. “But seriously, I’m dying to know what it was like to cross for the first time.”
“Baby, you don’t have to talk about this here,” I interjected so Han wouldn’t feel pressured to answer. “Seriously, Aunt Rachel, what about me? I haven’t seen you in years. Don’t you want to know what I’ve been up to?” I said, trying to sound jealous. “I have stories, too.”
Han squeezed my hand.
“Right, right, I’d like to hear the story of how you asked your parents to marry someone else days before your engagement with Han!” Rachel burst out laughing.
“It was weeks apart, actually,” I said, my face burning.
“What? You never told me you wanted to marry Jackie…” Han was lying, obviously. There was the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth, and I knew exactly what he was doing. Jackie’s words fluttered through my head.
Real couples fought.
“I swear I didn’t want to. I just felt pressured!” I pleaded, purposefully making my voice crack like I was about to cry.
“Your parents said no, didn’t they? Would you have married her if they said yes?” Han put a hand over his mouth, no doubt to hide a smile trying to break out.
“No! I changed my mind about it that night!” All true.
“Then who’s to say you won’t change your mind about me? Unbelievable.” Han stormed off, and I ran after him. The family was crowded around, but they parted for Han as he marched out of the house. I willed myself not to blink so tears might form.
“Baby, wait! I don’t love her. I swear! It’s always been you!” My eyes burned, tears flowing down my cheeks as I ran after Han.
We got all the way to the car before we lost it, giggling like children now that we were out of earshot.
My eyes were still watering when we got inside my car. I turned to Han and made my chin quiver. “I’m so proud of you…” I said, voice purposely cracking again.
“How the hell do you do that? It’s freaky.” Han shook himself off like my fake crying gave him the chills.
“I just don’t blink. You should try it. It’s really convincing,” I said, wiping my eyes under my glasses. Then my heart tugged. Han did this to get away from my aunt’s prying. “I’m really sorry about Rachel. She’s the freaking nosiest person I know.”
“It’s okay,” Han said, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. He had to be at least a little mad at me for letting his status slip.
“Look, you don’t ever have to talk about that stuff. But you can, if that’s what you need,” I said. I wanted him to feel comfortable telling me anything.
“’Preciate it, bro” was all he said.
I wanted to give him a chance to talk on his own without me prying, but we passed several stoplights without a word.
“Are you mad at me?” I finally asked.
“Nah.”
“Why not?”
A long pause.
“How can I be mad when you’re doing this for me? I don’t have the right to be mad at you.”
“You have every right to be mad at me. We’re equals, Han. It’s okay to be mad. I’m not gonna call off the wedding just because you’re rightfully pissed. I shouldn’t have told my mom about your status. It was in confidence, and I didn’t think she’d tell anyone, but still.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Remember when she kept inviting you to go to Guanajuato for our family reunions?” I’d always felt terrible when my mom invited Han. She didn’t know why he couldn’t go, but my entire extended family was dying to meet him, since my parents talked about him so much.
“Yeah. It’s been a while since she asked, though.”
I nodded. “Right. I told her about your status so she’d stop. It was obvious how shitty you felt having to say no every time, but I should have checked in with you first. I’m really, really sorry.”
Han let out a breath. “We’re cool, bro.”
He probably wasn’t saying what he was thinking, but I couldn’t force him. Still, there was something else we had to talk about.
“So, um… there’s something else I’ve been wanting to bring up…” I thought back to how I felt kissing Han. How safe and right his lips were and how complicated that made things. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss anymore.”
Han took a bit to respond, like he was processing my request. “Don’t we kind of have to? Like, for our cover?”
I swallowed my nerves. It would definitely be hard not to kiss Han, but not for the reason he thought. “We don’t have to. Plenty of couples don’t kiss in public.”
“But you and Jackie were so… uh, we’ll say affectionate. Will anyone buy it if you’re not like that with me?”
“They’ll buy it because it’s with you,” I said, trying to come up with a good enough excuse. “Jackie’s super physically affectionate, but anyone who’s seen you with a girl knows you don’t really do PDA.”
Han nodded solemnly, again clearly not saying everything on his mind. “What about you, though? You’re definitely the PDA type.”
“Then it’ll be all the more convincing, right? People who know us well will see it as a boundary you’ve always had. It’ll show them I see you as more than a physical relationship, you know?”
Han nodded again. If he wasn’t buying it, he didn’t say as much, which I was grateful for. If he picked up on what was actually going on, it could change everything. If I let Han know I had any kind of feelings, he’d probably feel pressured to go along with it, since his green card would be on the line. Confusing feelings aside, I wouldn’t do that to him.