Worth The Shot

Rain on the Parade

The warm rain started as a drizzle. Light raindrops pattered the market stalls and your cheek.

"Go back home, get inside," Camilo laughed, affectionately shooed his dissolving crowd of kids away. He turned to you. "How far is your-"

The sky burst into a million, thick droplets of rain, leaving a pattern of splotches on the cobblestone.

You grabbed Camilo's hand and pulled him underneath the tarp canopy of an abandoned market stall, attached to an alley wall. There was barely enough room for the two of you.

"Uh, hey," Camilo blushed at the sudden contact, his heartbeat thrumming against your chest. The rain picked up, tapping on the canopy and dripping off its edges.

The cascading rain gave a magical sheen to the market, creating a border between reality and whatever enchantment you were in.

"You have freckles." You whispered in surprise, finally getting a close look at his face. They were scattered across his nose and cheeks like little brown stars. It was cute.

"And you have the prettiest (e/c) eyes I've ever seen, Mariposa." He breathed with a smirk, lightly kissing you on the nose.

He kissed me. On the nose, but still. He kissed me.

Camilo suddenly tore his hand out of yours and raced into the rain. Droplets of water ran off of his curls and down his face.

"Dance with me!"

"That's so cliché, Camilo!" You shouted over the storm, laughing at his elated expression.

"And?" He grinned back, pulling you out into the rain with him and spinning you in a circle. The rain welcomed you, enveloping you in its otherworldly shine. The gentle water soaked through your clothes and clung to your eyelashes.

"Your abuela wouldn't approve," you laughingly protested as Camilo twirled you underneath his arm. "Do you want everyone talking about us?" You gestured to to the row of houses that lined the market. Faces curiously peered out of the dripping, clouded windows.

"They can talk," Camilo declared, dipping you dramatically. His hand firmly held the small of you back. With a devil-may-care smile, he flicked water off of your cheek with his thumb.

"That was cute, Camilo," You rolled your eyes, trying in vain to crush your enormous smile as you righted yourself, leaning against his arm.

The rain petered out to a slow trickle, driving the shopkeepers back to their stands.

"Oh!" You cleared your throat, suddenly remembering. "I need to bring wood back home."

"I'll carry it for you," Camilo volunteered, following you to the fish lady's stand.

"Camilo, it's like 20 pounds. I can handle it," You teased, lifting up the block from the stand. To your embarrassment, you slipped in a puddle and dropped it, stumbling forward.

Camilo caught the block and smugly raised his eyebrows. "You were saying, (y/n)?"

"Give it back," you jokingly giggled, trying to pry it out of his grasp. "Or I'll tell Valeria you were an accomplice to killing her fish." Your threat sent Camilo into a fit of infectious laughter.

"(Y/n!)" A tense voice barked.

Your father stormed across the marketplace with an exasperated expression. You froze. Oh no. He looks angry.

"What are you doing? You've been out for an hour." He said, accusingly eying Camilo. "Why are you with a Madrigal?" With an odd jolt, you realized that all of his anger was directed toward Camilo.

"I'll see you later," You said, tearing the wood out of Camilo's hands with a terse smile. He didn't need to stay and get yelled at.

"No," your father angrily clarified, "You won't see him later." He turned to Camilo. "Stay away from her."

Camilo respectfully nodded. "Yes, sir." He made worried eye contact with you as he left.

You walked back in silence. When Camilo had left, all of your father's rage had dissipated, replaced by quiet concern.

"Dad, you and abuela are always telling me to date somebody. What's wrong with him?" You abruptly challenged, confused.

"You know I only want what's best for you," He sighed, pausing to look into your eyes. "Stay away from the Madrigals. It... complicates things."

You frowned, following him inside the house.

What's that supposed to mean?