Worth The Shot

He Knows

You crawled through the hole on your hands and knees, tumbling to the dusty ground. The whiskered muzzle of a gargantuan jaguar hovered over your face.

"Camilo! (Y/n)!" Mirabel offered you a hand, then threw her arms around you both. "I got Antonio right away; his animals dug you out!" Antonio peered up at you and waved shyly. 

Your limbs weighted with relief, you sucked in the sweet, clear air. We're okay. We're alive. "How long were we in there?" You asked.

"Five hours," Mirabel anxiously said. She shoved one of her mother's arepa con quesos into your dirt-caked hand. "Eat that. Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no. Five hours. It's probably around 7am. Camilo bit into the bread, and the bruises along his cheek cleared like swirling storm clouds. You tried not to wince. 

"The birds," Antonio softly said, "will help you fly down." He pointed at the infinite stairs suspended above the gorge. Flying would totally be better. Two massive birds with powerful, black wingspans gripped your shirt in their talons. Your legs dangled over the dark chasm as waves of warm air from the vultures fiercely beating their wings rolled over your face. 

When your feet gently landed on the ground, the vultures released you and you stumbled to regain balance. Camilo's vultures dropped him and he tucked his head, smoothly rolling back to his feet like some ninja. Show off. 

"We can pretend we all just woke up; Abuela won't suspect anything if we get you home," Mirabel planned, grabbing your arm and rushing out Bruno's dull, wooden door. You slipped through the hallway. You smiled at Antonio as he scuttled back to his room. Before you descended the stairs, a hand brushed your bare arm, sending electric chills along your skin. 

"Hey, wait," Camilo said in a husky whisper, locking his hazel eyes on yours. They glittered with unsaid words. "When can I see you?" 

He wants to see me. A euphoric rush burned in your chest. "I have to go to market. Tomorrow," You breathed. Your hand twitched, and you ran your thumb over your knuckles. I want to hold his hand again. Is that wrong? 

"Come on!" Mirabel shot you a puzzled look, cracking the seal that froze the moment. She hurried you down the stairs and you both tumbled out the front door, blinking in the sunlight.

"Did he kiss you?" Mirabelle demanded, her eyes wide and excited. 

"Bye, Mirabel," You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"You're going to tell me everything later!" She insisted with a grin, waving goodbye as you walked back home. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"New guitar," your father explained, turning around in his chair. You loved the sawdusty smell of your father's workshop. Gently cradling the instrument, you felt its weighted, smooth wood in your hands. 

"It's beautiful, Dad. Who's it for?" 

"Mariano Guzman. He wanted a new guitar for..." Your father leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "He's going to propose. To one of the Madrigals." 

You felt dizzily giddy at the word Madrigal. Stop that. You need to focus, You scolded yourself. You had asked two villagers and your abuela about the Festival of Suns, and nobody had known about it. Would your father?  

"For the Festival of Suns this year, what statue should we get?" You casually hedged, fishing for a reaction. 

Your father didn't look up from the steel guitar strings he was working on, distracted. "Maybe a cat? They represent intelligence, and that's never a bad trait to start the year with." 

He knows.

Your breath stalled in your throat. Why do only he and I remember?