19. ARAN

CHAPTER 19

ARAN

M om sets a staggering plate with the chunkiest cachapa on the planet in front of me. It's like a thick corn pancake stuffed with a slab of queso de mano and several layers of ham and is drizzled with nata—which I know is also called cream, though it doesn't taste the same when I think about it in English.

I've been camping out at home ever since picking Liv up at the hospital after they flushed out her gut. That was probably enough punishment, to be honest. But then I yelled at her some more in the car just in case. And then our parents freaked out when I arrived home, basically carrying my little sister in, and presented them with a brand-new hospital bill.

Needless to say, she got grounded. And because our parents hover very high on the neuroticism scale, they kept her home from school yesterday. And because Luz is also the textbook definition of intense, she threatened to drive over when she found out about the whole thing. To save her the hassle, I volunteered to stay home for a few days so I could keep an obsessive eye on our sister.

That, and so I could avoid my life for a bit.

But the back and forth between school and home is getting old. And maybe because I'm also done with acting like a freaking child.

Liv glares at my plate, as if upset that her portion is so much smaller. Not that she could eat all this. I mean, shit, I'm not even sure I can. But Dad blesses our meal, and I dig in.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Mom asks Liv.

My sister hasn't said a word to me in days, but she does respond to Mom. "I've told you a million times already. I'm fine. I don't need all of you to guard me like dogs."

"Of course you do," Dad says with a gruff voice I inherited. "You and Luz are delicate."

I wouldn't exactly use that word for either of them. Stubborn, reckless, and a danger to themselves? Sure.

Olivia rolls her eyes and sags against the chair. I keep stuffing my mouth with food, because anything I say would bring everyone's bad mood up to my own six.

Mom reaches over and pats my hand with her much smaller one. "I'm so glad we don't have to worry about you, Aran." Dad nods in silence to second that.

Right. I'm the solid, dependable one. The one who doesn't break. The one who doesn't need anything, ever. I've always been proud of being my parents' most low-maintenance kid. That's also why I came home for a few days. I knew they'd be too fussy about Olivita to even ask me why I was here. Unlike Archie, who's tried to corner me before or after every practice, or unlike some of the others, who have been blowing up my phone.

Except being home didn't dial my shitty mood back to a manageable level. If anything, I feel worse. I don't want people to fuss over me, but I also don't want them to pretend I'm okay. I just don't freaking know what I want.

After breakfast, I toss my duffel bags into the back of my car and slam the door shut. I turn around and almost jump, because Mom stands on the curb beside me, quiet as a ghost.

"Can you take your sister to school this morning?"

I wrinkle my nose. But I note the lack of please and thank you, just as Strawberry would've pointed out.

"Why?"

"So you can make up."

I sigh and run my hand over my head. My hair's getting longer and my patience is getting shorter.

"Fine."

She reaches out and instinctively, I lower myself so she can pat my cheek. "Gracias, mijo."

Nodding, I grab her hand and straighten back up. "I'm not coming back tonight after practice."

"Good. Go resume your life." Chuckling, she bundles up into her cardigan. "Then I'll go back to cooking normal amounts of food, no?"

The sensitive little prick in me is still very much awake, and it takes issue. As if Mom had no right to get used to me being out of the house.

"Chao," I say, rounding the car and getting into the driver's seat.

Mom doesn't take my curt farewell as a big deal. She waves at me and heads back into the house. I hear her muffled voice calling out to Olivia.

I rub my eyes and run my hands up and down my face, wishing it was enough to wash away this embarrassing sentimental loop I'm trapped in. I'll drop Liv off at school, and that'll be the end of this episode. And then I have one more to close before I go back to my usual self. Before I can fully focus on hockey and nothing else.

The passenger door opens, and I drop my hands to turn on the vehicle while my little sister buckles up. I do the same and set us in motion.

The radio is off, and neither of us changes its status. We don't fill the silence with our voices either. Mom's hopes will be crushed when she realizes two people can't make up if neither of them thinks they were wrong. Because I sure as hell wasn't wrong in freaking out. And Liv has said a million times that it was an accident. Which I believe, because she's the one who stands to suffer the most from deadly food allergies. But it still doesn't satisfy me.

From the corner of my eye, I see her fold her arms and fix her attention out her window.

"You can't control everything and everyone around you, Aran. Sometimes things you don't want will happen, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The first words to come out of my sister's mouth that are directed at me stab into my core and make it bleed.

I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. "But sometimes I can."

"Yeah, this isn't one of those times. You can't stop me from getting hurt. And you also can't go feral if I do."

I frown. "Is this because I scared Brooklyn off a bit?"

"A bit?" She snorts. "He's nearly as big as you and plays defense, but I've never seen him as scared as he was when you squared up to him."

"I would've killed him if it'd been his fault," I mumble as I pull into the high school parking lot.

"And that's precisely the problem I'm trying to illustrate, you Neanderthal." She unbuckles her seat belt and gives me my own patented deadpan stare. "Would it kill you to be more sensitive sometimes?"

Yes.

Yes, it freaking would. That's what got me into this mess in the first place. If I hadn't acted like a sensitive little shit during the game, I might've kept my head screwed on right after.

"I'm your older brother. My job is to keep you safe, not to paint your toenails."

Huffing, she rolls her eyes. "Te odio."

"Me too. Don't forget your scarf."

She slams the door shut with shocking strength and flips me the bird, but then she winds her scarf around her neck. What a brat. My lips curve.

I switch on the radio and get back on the road. I have a half hour to drive around town and get to the St. Cloud library, where Strawberry will be waiting for me to start the tutoring session. The one that will be our last.

The smile drops away from my face. Instead of taking a right turn where I should, I drive straight down the longest path back to college.

At a red light, I focus away from the road for a second and find my old elementary school on the right. My pulse spikes at the onslaught of memories of that night. My hands on her waist. Her face buried in my chest. Her small hand grabbing mine for dear life. The smile on her face when she finally managed to skate a stretch on her own. Her arms around me after she almost fell.

"Ah, shit."

At the first chance, I do a U-turn and take the short way back to school. I need to nip this in the bud. The faster I get to the library, the faster I can tell her I don't need her to tutor me anymore. Not like a coward, like I almost did over the weekend by simply canceling the service online. But head-on. Just like I've done with every imminent breakup.

Except this is not a breakup. And we'll still see each other. Just less.

Ryan can teach Maddie all about hockey. It'll be easier that way, since they live together. I'll see her occasionally coming in and out of our apartments. Maybe at O'Malley's. Even less at school. English and accounting are a world apart on campus. It'll be fine.

The last three words repeat in my head as I cross town. I park near the library entrance and grab my backpack from the back seat. I tie my black scarf close to the base of my neck and take a step forward.

"It'll be fine, jerk. Why are you hesitating?"

Of course, no one answers my question. Not even my own brain.

I force myself to move ahead. I take a bracing breath as I push the heavy entrance door open. I flash my student ID at the scanner and walk past the information desk. Massive rows of bookcases occupy about a third of the ground floor. I cut through the middle of the long tables by the center and pivot to the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time. My heart gallops, but the little effort isn't enough to justify it.

I'm low-key freaking out. Once I get to the farthest tables on the top floor, I'll have to?—

I spot her right away. She sits in the corner by the massive window. Sunlight from the clear morning streams over her, making her hair glow red. Her face is set in a grumpy expression as she furiously taps on her keyboard, and like magic, it makes the corner of my lips tip upward.

Tension leaves my body, even though my heart is still racing against itself.

Then, as if she senses me, Strawberry's eyes tear away from her computer and skewer me. That's how it feels when a smile blooms across her face.

My resolve wanes with every step that brings me closer to her. I was wound up like a coil when I was farther from her. Am I going to transform into an angry beast after I put a firm, permanent distance between us?

And then what's going to happen to my game? Am I really going to concentrate better if I'm always this worked up?

"Aran! I'm so glad you came." Her cheeks are still rosy from her smile, even when she narrows her eyes a bit. "I wasn't sure you would, since you've been ignoring all of us for days."

I pull up the chair across from her and take my sweet time divesting myself of my coat, scarf, and gloves. Finally, I take a seat. For the first time, I meet her eyes.

And I'm toast.

"Are you okay?" Strawberry asks, worry evident on her face. "You don't have to say anything other than yes or no. And if you say no, I won't nag you. I promise."

"Yes."

I am now. I'm okay. I know exactly what I'm going to do.

I open my mouth and speak.