Chapter 19 Full Throttle
Full Throttle
Coco
Something’s going on with Blanca. I’m dying to know what’s plaguing her and why she hasn’t told me.
Aroa is sad. She seems to be starting to accept that her hopes with Marín aren’t based on anything real.
Marín is a little weird.
Gus is a dumbass. But he has a great ass, to be fair.
I rubbed against Marín like a cat in heat last night, and I think he was awake.
I’m somewhere between nine and ten on the scale of a girl-code-breaking, shitty friend and a terrible person.
I feel like Blanca is avoiding me, but I also feel like that assumption would be pretty egotistical and a little paranoid.
She’s not avoiding me; she’s just trying to be Zen, and to do that, she’s avoiding everyone.
When Gus and Marín left, she changed into her bathing suit, gathered up her stuff, and settled in under one of the umbrellas next to the pool.
She doesn’t want to go down any of the slides.
She says she’s so hungover she’d probably just projectile vomit.
“Loren…” I whisper, taking advantage of Aroa going back to the motor home to grab more beer. “What’s going on with Blanca?”
“She’s hungover,” he says through a loud yawn.
“What were you two talking to Marín about earlier? You were whispering. Something’s going on.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What were you talking about with Marín?”
Loren scoffs and leans against the edge of the pool, letting his legs float.
“Blanca told Marín they should go to a motel, for Aroa’s sake.
It’s obvious he doesn’t want to get back together with her, and this isn’t a good place for them to figure out their situation, with all six of us stuck under the same roof. ”
I stare at him, a little stunned. I’m a narcissistic and egotistical nutjob. I thought it was something else, like they were hiding something from me. Or maybe they are hiding something and they’re just really good at lying?
“But everything’s okay with Ruben?”
“Yeah.” He nods confidently. “Look at her. She’s probably talking to him on the phone right now.”
On her sun chair, hidden behind her huge Saint Laurent sunglasses, Blanca’s fidgeting with the tassels on her towel as she talks on the phone.
I relax. She seems much less upset than she was this morning.
When Aroa passes by and puts a beer on her chair, she responds with a smile.
Relax, Coco. You’re getting paranoid. Look at her…
Blanca is the living image of success. She’s a great lawyer who, I mean, yeah, she’s super burned out at work, but she’s fighting for her dream future career.
She makes bank. She has a beautiful apartment.
She’s going to marry Ruben, who isn’t the closest with our friends, but they make a great team. She has style. She’s happy…
Is she happy?
Okay. I’m paranoid.
“You know what would help you?” Loren says, sinking into the pool all the way up to his neck.
“What?”
“Telling Blanca that you’re not in love with Gus.”
I widen my eyes. “Now?”
“Now. Why not? I don’t get why you’ve been hiding it.”
“Because I don’t want to give her any more headaches.
” Loren looks at me with raised eyebrows and sucks his teeth.
“Okay, fine. And because in the end she’s going to ask me why I lied and then…
I’ll have to admit that I’m in love with Marín and…
” I whip my head around to check no one’s close by.
Aroa is sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet on the sun chair where Blanca is slumped.
“So what? She’s your best friend. Are you embarrassed?”
“Would you tell your best friend that you’re actually a shitty friend?” I answer a little angrily. “Fuck, Loren. I want to steal Aroa’s ex. It’s not that easy.”
“It’s easier than you think.”
I snort and lean my head against the side of the pool. “I have to tell you something.” But I’m not looking at him as I say it.
“Please tell me you didn’t fuck Gus in a bush last night?”
I sit up straight and shoot him a look. “Wait. You really think I fucked Gus in a bush?”
“It’s Gus. You once fucked him in a closet.”
“It wasn’t a closet. It was…the storage room at work,” I clarify glumly.
“Same diff.”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s not it.”
“I don’t know if I wanna know,” he grumbles.
“Well, I need to tell you.”
Loren snorts and nods, but when I start to speak, he shoves a finger between us. “I’ll listen, but in exchange, you have to tell Blanca that you’re not in love with Gus.”
“Why are you so obsessed with that?”
“Because she’s your best friend, she thinks you’re in love with your ex, and your ex is on the Forbes list for guys who have gotten their dicks wet the most this year. She’s worried about you.”
Ay, fuck. Different place, same shit. “Okay.” I nod. “But I’ll do it when I deem appropriate.”
“Come on then… What do you wanna tell me?”
“This morning…Marín and I…rubbed each other.”
Loren’s expression looks like a hyperrealist painting of horror and destruction. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, right. I know.” A tiny smile plays at my lips. “Am I allowed to say it was pretty great?”
“Was it?”
“Totally. But brief.” I let out a muffled scream. “Loreeeeen, I touched it.”
“But, wait, hold up… You two woke up and suddenly decided that, after four years of living together, of treating each other like you’re cousins, it was a good idea to touch each other’s privates?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“Explain yourself. And, please, try to make it fit in a tweet.”
“But then you could tweet it.”
“Who still has Twitter now that it’s called X?” He gawks.
I’m not going to argue right now about what social media’s cool these days, so I continue my narration. “I woke up, and we were holding each other. So…I moved my butt because…I don’t know, I was probably still a little tipsy from the wine or something like that and it seemed like a good idea and…”
“Coco…cut to the chase, please. We look sketchy, whispering over here.”
“Well, I jiggled my butt like a cat in heat, and he didn’t hold back either. We were rubbing up against each other for a while.” I pinch my thumb and finger together and add, “But when I turned around to kiss him, he turned the other way, pretending to be asleep.”
“How do you know he wasn’t asleep?”
“Because later, when they left, he said something and…”
“So witchcraft.”
“A little.” I nod. “Oh, God, Loren…am I going to fuck it all up? Or have I already fucked it all up?”
“You’re both going to fuck it all up.”
I don’t want to smile, but it always makes me laugh when Loren suddenly seems like an eighty-year-old with superhuman knowledge of aphorisms. Then I have a jolt of conscience, and I whimper. “I’m a bad friend.”
“Drop the bad friend shit. Is Aroa perfect? You’re not doing this on a whim. You’ve been, fuck… How long have you been in love with Marín?” he whispers. “A year?”
“A little over.”
“Did you try to break them up? No. Did you pressure them for your own benefit? No. Did you try to toe the line and just be his friend? Yes. Did you ever go too far? No. At this point, fuck, Coco, let every dog lick its own dick.”
I grimace, and he apologizes for the expression while he tousles his hair with his damp hand.
“Look, Coco, I’m gonna be really honest. You’re driving me nuts.
” I make a horrified face, but he hurries to explain.
“Not you. Everyone. You have your lies, and everyone else has their secrets, and I don’t know why you all end up telling me everything.
And I understand what you’re doing, you specifically, because you trust me and you’re looking for advice, right? ”
“Yes,” I say, with my lips pursed.
“Well, here’s my advice: If you’re overwhelmed by the lie, start making it smaller. Don’t feed it.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Not maybe…I am. But come on. That’s nothing new.” A smile sneaks onto his mouth, and he elbows me. “Let’s just have a good time, please.”
And that plea came out of his mouth, but it easily could’ve come out of mine.
* * *
When Marín and Gus show up, the vibe is like a very tense steel wire, the kind that holds up bridges and makes a sinister noise when they snap in action movies.
Loren’s right. I have to start doing whatever I can to make this better, and lying to my best friend because I’m embarrassed to tell her certain things is not it.
Gus is wearing a short-sleeve shirt that I’m not ready for, not because I’m into it but because it’s going to trigger an epileptic attack. I never thought the textile industry would cram that many colors on one single garment.
“I come bearing chicken.”
“Did you say chicken or cock?” Loren asks him very seriously as he dries himself off with his towel.
“There’s chicken in the bag,” he specifies, raising his eyebrows. “If you want to look for the other one…”
“Do I look interested?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. I’ve never tried it with a guy; the time has probably come.”
Gus is joking, but he’s taking it too far, to be honest. Marín must feel the same way because his hand lands on Gus’s shoulder a little heavier than you’d expect from a friendly pat.
“Let’s end the comedy festival there and set the table. I want to call my boss and the artist formerly known as Noa. I’m worried her teeth might’ve been knocked out.”
“Are you guys wearing bathing suits?” I ask from the water.
“Yup.”
They answer in unison as they head back to our site. I look at Aroa, who’s smiling politely. I look at Blanca, who lowered her sunglasses and waved. I look at Loren, who’s beckoning me to tell me the time has come to get out of the pool.
“Aroa, will you go to the supermarket with me?” he says to her.
“Mmm?” she replies distractedly.
“Will you come to the store next to reception? We need to buy ice and more plastic cups.”
“Plastic cups are bad for the environment,” she points out. “But, sure. I’ll make you all more conscientious little by little.”
“Conscience, conscience…”
When we’re left alone, I go over to Blanca and sit down, wrapped in my towel, on the chair next to her. “Blanqui…”
“What’s up?” she asks.