Chapter 28 The Missing Chapter
The Missing Chapter
Coco
I turn back to the bartender obstinately and order a round and a few shots.
“Everything okay?” Loren asks me.
My face must’ve changed when I saw the way they were looking at each other.
“Yeah. Phenomenal.”
The wine, the looks I don’t understand, the jealousy, the fear, the things left unfinished—all of it is thrumming relentlessly against my back.
As soon as the shot glass hits the bar, I throw it down my throat.
I hear both of them cracking up and telling me to take it easy, but I smile as much as I can and take the one I actually ordered for Loren.
It makes me retch, but I chase it with a sip of my rum and Coke.
“Let’s dance!” I say, faker than a wooden euro.
I don’t wait to see their warning looks. If I’m missing something, if I’m lacking information about the story Marín and Aroa were the main characters in. Am I making a total fool of myself? Does that change my situation with him? Is it going to fuck up my night if I find out?
I’m carrying my drink and Blanca’s, but when Gus suddenly pops up in front of me, I dump almost all of it over his head.
“Fuck, Coco!” he yells when he feels the liquid hit his chest. “A little ice play is one thing and this is…another.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries.” He focuses on his shirt, brushing it with his hand like that’ll dry it. He looks up, laughing and raising one eyebrow. “You’re legless, Coco Puff!”
“What are you talking about!” I wave him off. “I just took two shots.”
“Go puke them up. If this is how you are already, when they hit you, it’s gonna be a pretty wild party.” He grabs the drink I’m holding and hands it to Blanca. “Here, Blanqui. Gin and tonic. If you’re wondering where the rest of it is, you can lick it off my shirt. Or my chest.”
“If I lick your chest, I’ll be coughing up hair balls like a cat.”
“Don’t mess with me or I’ll say something outrageous and you’ll get all mad.”
I lean against the wall to follow the dialectical ping-pong match between them. I’m glad we’re out in the open air and the music is a little quieter than inside. I was starting to get overstimulated.
“Did we take a long time or is it just me?” I ask Aroa.
“Forever,” she replies. “And you smell like a minibar.”
Great. Marín, who doesn’t drink more than a beer at weddings, baptisms, and promotions, is gonna love my boozy breath.
“Do you have any gum?”
“Are you planning on kissing someone?” she asks as she rummages through her bag.
“I dunno. This place is full of cute guys, right?”
She hands me a piece of gum, and at the same moment, Marín hands me a bottle of water with the lid already cracked half open and winks at me.
“The trick is to hydrate yourself, Sardine,” he says. “Drink a little. You’re gonna be wasted if you keep drinking rum at that pace.”
“Wasted sounds better than legless,” I say.
“Who told you you’re ‘legless’? Aroa?” he asks, amused.
She shakes her head, unable to stifle a tiny smile. The power of Marín, I guess.
“It was Gus.”
“Ah, of course. The poet.”
All three of us burst out laughing.
“…a chick magnet,” we hear Gus say.
“It’s been so long since you bragged about your list of eternal conquests.”
“Well, I’m the picture of discretion.”
“Will you all shut up already? You’re always the same,” I say from where I’m standing.
“You’re shit-faced!”
“You’re a hairy beast!”
“You know what’s not hairy? My balls. They’re smooth, super smooth. Want one?”
“Yeah, on a stick like a Chupa Chup.” I crack up. “Let’s dance!” And I give him a pat like I’m his nanny.
“Do you think I’m your little dancing monkey?”
I take a sip of my drink and then chug the bottle of water Marín gave me. Then I pull Blanca to dance outside our little group.
I spin back to Marín, and we both start whooping as a song we love comes on. I tug on his wrist, and Loren wolf-whistles us as we start dancing.
“Ladies and gentlemen…Anchovy and Sardine!”
“Super salty!”
The alcohol has completely erased all my inhibitions and shame, so I’m moving like I would in my room, with no one watching. My arms are in the air, and one finger is looped around his, guiding me, drawing me closer, twirling me to the beat of the music.
He doesn’t need to move much to be ridiculously sexy. His whole body sways to the rhythm, smoothly, nothing flashy, just elegant, sliding around me. For Marín, dancing is as easy as breathing. Like fucking.
I put my hands flat on his chest, and we smile at each other. I bite my lip in a kind of promise of who knows what…and I get the giggles because I don’t know how to be sexy.
He hugs me as we cackle. “I’m going to have to eat you whole,” he whispers into my ear.
“Sounds good to me.”
“You prudes!” Blanca yells, waving her drink in the air. “Show us how a fucking sardine moves.”
I move closer. My stomach is pressed against his. Marín laughs up into the sky, and I grab his waist and shimmy up and down a little.
“Like fish in water!” And then Gus starts whistling.
One of his hands is on my waist, and the other is on my neck.
At first, I think he’s trying to move me a little farther away from him, but before I can blink, he turns me around so my back is to him and bends me forward.
It’s not like I know how to twerk, honestly, but I know how to do something with my hips.
Loren and Blanca join Gus, and they all whistle.
I grab one of Marín’s wrists, and he twirls me back toward him. We always do this kind of stuff in the kitchen at home, when we put on music while we cook, although it doesn’t feel like this.
The song ends, and we burst out laughing, clasping hands, bowing to our audience, which Aroa is not part of.
“Where’s blondie?”
“She went to the bathroom.” And Gus raises his eyebrows as he says it.
The vibe suddenly changes completely when Loren shoots Marín a loaded look. I grab my drink again and take a big gulp that goes down smooth, cooling the heat in my cheeks.
“We were just dancing,” Marín says. “It’s a fucking club, for God’s sake.”
“I didn’t say a word!” Loren puts his hands up.
“You can’t even sneeze when she’s around, for fuck’s sake,” I complain, raging at the fun being cut short, from the sudden crash and, probably, because of the alcohol.
“I’m going to…”
“I’ll go,” Gus says, cutting Marín off. “I’m Switzerland. And I’m easy to break, like chocolate.”
He downs half of his gin and tonic and winks at us before he puts his drink down and disappears into the crowd.
“What a buzzkill,” I grumble.
“Come on. No way,” Blanca says.
I look at her, and when she makes a silly face, I smile again. “I think I drank too fast.”
“I’m going to buy cigarettes.” She points at the machine I can see from where we’re standing. “Let’s do a lap when I get back? And get some air.”
“Cool.”
Loren and Marín are talking about Aroa. And the content of their conversation is pretty obvious. One is asking the other to calm down; the other says he’s tired of this childish shit.
“I’ve always been clear, dude. Always,” Marín defends himself.
“Yeah, but she’s jealous, and…we can see her side too. She showed up all excited, thinking you were getting back together, and now…”
“Loren, I never gave her any indication that was going to happen.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“Hey, I get it.” Marín pushes his hair off his forehead. “But it’s Blanca’s bachelorette party. The only expectation any of us should’ve had is to help her have the best time ever, right?”
“Yeah, dude, but it’s more complicated than that. We’re humans. You are too and…”
I zone out from the conversation. I’m bored of talking about it. I grab my drink and down the last of it. I shouldn’t drink any more. I look at my watch. It’s super early to be winding down already.
Aroa suddenly appears. She’s moving a little fast, but she doesn’t seem mad.
“Hey,” Marín says, grabbing her wrist.
“Huh? What?” she asks.
“Nothing. Um…all good?”
“Yeah, yeah. But I don’t feel good. Does anyone mind if I go home?”
“You’re leaving?” Loren asks, confused. “Wait, you don’t feel good?”
Aroa grabs the bag she left in a corner, slings it across her chest, and rubs her face. “I don’t like these places. I’m getting overstimulated by all the people and…”
“But it’s Blanca’s bachelorette party, Aroa,” Marín says warmly.
“I know, I know. But I’m gonna be grumpy, she’s going to notice, and that’ll just make it worse. Where is she?”
“She went to buy cigarettes,” I pipe up. “Have you seen Gus? He went to find you.”
“Yes, yeah. We crossed paths. He’s, he’s still in the bathroom.”
What’s up with Aroa? Is this all about me dancing with Marín? She’s being really weird. I go over. “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just wanna go to sleep. No one minds, right?”
“Wait.” Marín pats his pockets. “I’ll walk you there and then come back. I’ll be worried if you leave alone.”
“We’re across the street, Marín,” she whines. “It’s two hundred meters away.”
“It doesn’t matter. There are a lot of drunk assholes around. Not like I don’t think you can defend yourself, by the way. It’s just to put my mind at ease.”
I stare at them. Look how the tables have turned. Now I’m the one seething with jealousy.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Marín says to me, moving away from her a little. “Do you have your phone with you? In case I can’t find you later.”
“It’s in my bag.”
“Put it on vibrate, please.” He leans down a little and smiles shyly. “I just want to talk to her for a minute, okay? I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, sure.” I nod.
“Coco…” His hand finds mine, discreetly, down low, like it’s not a big deal. We both look at our fingers as they brush against each other. “All I want to do is spend the night with you, you know that, right?”
I smile. “No, but I have the bad habit of always believing you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “What…what makes you say that?”
“Nothing, nothing. I’m just…drunk.”
“I’ll bring you water when I come back. If you want?”
“Okay.”
He turns away. Aroa is waiting for him on the edge of the terrace. I watch them wend their way through the crowd toward the exit, and soon they disappear into the other bodies, other faces. A bunch of strangers swallow them up.
“Fuck it.” Loren doesn’t answer. “Loren?”
Loren? Loren isn’t here. I’m…alone.
I look around me. Blanca went to get smokes.
Marín and Aroa left. Gus never came back from the bathroom.
Where the fuck is Loren? I grab my bag and cross it over my chest, and stand on my tiptoes, trying to spot Loren’s ridiculous hair in the crowd, but it’s impossible.
Loren’s haircut must be in style—there are a lot of them floating around.
My logical side tells me to stay where I am, but the side being controlled by the shots I downed so fast at the bar is making me push through the crowd and I start getting overwhelmed. I rush in one direction and crash into a group of girls.
“Sorry, sorry.”
I decide to go to the cigarette machine. I’ll definitely find Blanca there, I tell myself.
I get the impression there are even more people here than when we arrived, and it’s so hard to swim across the tide of people talking, laughing, dancing, and drinking in little groups. All I can see is the tops of heads, and none of them seem to belong to my friends.
It’s really hot in here. I suddenly notice how my romper is sticking to my back.
I have to get out of here. I don’t want to be all soggy when Marín comes back.
Because…he’s gonna come back, right? What were he and Loren trying to hide from me?
The reason Marín and Aroa broke up? What if Marín was always the guilty party?
What if he cheated on her? What if he did something that’s going to change the way I… ?
I suddenly perk up when, to my left, on the other side of the bar in the middle of a jumble of people, I see Loren and Blanca. Blanca looks really upset. Loren’s grabbing her hands, but she pulls them away, pushes her hair back, rubs her face… Is she crying?
I want to go over, but the crowd won’t part. I’m suffocating. I’m really suffocating. What if I go back out again and then try to turn around from there?
The “excuse mes” I’m saying as I go aren’t having any effect, so I elbow my way through. I can see the exit, and I can start to feel the air getting cooler. What’s going on with Blanca? She just went to buy cigarettes. Did Ruben call her? Did they get in a fight?
I walk straight into a girl and stumble back a few steps. I grab the wall, which saves me from falling to the floor…in the nick of time.
In the nick of time.
In the nick of time.
In the nick of time.
It’s the only thing playing in a loop in my head when I look up and I see them.
My brain is stuck there, trapped, in the last thing I thought before I saw them.
Embracing. Clinging to each other. Looking at each other.
She’s touching his hair. He’s resting his forehead on her chin.
Intimacy. Complicity. If you’re observant, it’s easy to see when two people are keeping a secret.
I’ve spent half the trip only seeing what I wanted to see, but not anymore.
They’re right there. Clinging to each other.
Looking at each other. By themselves. Hidden. From who?
From me.
It’s Marín and Aroa.
I sense a movement, and my head, which is still trapped in the loop of “in the nick of time,” reacts, stopping me from seeing the kiss, if there is one.
I’ll be honest, I don’t really care if there isn’t.
I’ve seen enough. I start to shove people out of the way, and I run out.
I want to get out of here. I want to leave as soon as possible, to get some air, to forget all about it, to sober up, to be clear-eyed and realize that no, I didn’t see anything intimate or complicit, that they haven’t built a bridge together over so many years, that they don’t share any secrets…
that I’m the only secret Marín is keeping and that they were probably…
Someone suddenly grabs my arm and stops me. It’s Gus. He’s sweaty, and he looks nervous. Maybe dazed or drunk. When did that happen?
“I can’t find anyone,” he says.
“I want to get out of here,” I blubber.
“Me too.”
“Take me outside.”
“Where?” he asks, confused.
“Gus…get me out of here.”