24- Home Late

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I've reheated enough dishes of this nature to know the ideal time and settings. I'm starving. I had a granola bar at the dealership, but other than that I haven't eaten since noon. Mr LaRusso called me on my way home to check on me. Thankfully, he wasn't mad that I was getting home so close to the curfew. Contrarily, he seemed really worried and then relieved that I was okay, rather than angry, which I guess I'm just not used to. I made it back here with nine minutes to spare, which counts the time that I changed into my sweatpants. I'm tired as all hell too. Going from training for hours to work to piano to tae kwon do to walking the beach with Miguel to sparring with basically no break is very tiring, believe it or not.

"You're home late," someone says. I jump, getting into a guarded position. Oh. It's just Robby. I relax a little, sitting down with my belated dinner. He sits down across from me. I'm not sure if I like his tone...

"What, you miss me?" I return. I'm too tired for him to ask questions about my whereabouts. I don't want to explain.

"I just know you usually get home from tae kwon do around 8 or 8:30. What were you up to?" He asks. Jeez.

"Stalker much?"

"Defensive much?"

"I don't question what you and Sam do when I'm not around,"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired, and I didn't like the way you said 'you're home late'. It just... I don't know. Sorry," I say. I just want to eat my dinner. And it shouldn't matter where I've been. It's not like he's my dad or my boyfriend or anything. I know he cares, but there's no reason for him to distrust me or anything and... I couldn't help but be reminded of my dad when he said 'you're home late'... maybe I'm just overreacting because I'm tired. Yeah... probably. His face softens.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've- sorry," he says in return. I nod as I take a bite of the dish. Oh my gosh it's so good. Gracias a Dios for Ms Diaz. She's an angel sent from heaven.

"So... did I miss anything big while I was gone?" I ask, just in case. I like to be in the know, because I'm so often out of it.

"Not really. Sam and I just played a card game and then she went up to her room. I think she was talking to a friend or something," he replies. Alright, alright. I feel like them getting together is so close, and watching it unfold is quite infuriating. Like please, just acknowledge it already so the rest of us- and by rest of us I mean me- can live without getting in the way of the tension. I nod a response.

"That looks good," he says. It is!

"It is. It's called seco de carne and this is an empanada," I say, enthusiasm returning to my voice. I love it so much. The flavor, the textures, the vibe? Chef's kiss.

"Did your grandparents make it?" He asks. Full of questions tonight are we? What is this, a police interrogation? I plead the fifth.

"No, they live hours away. These are just leftovers. Do you want to try it?" I ask in an attempt to swerve the subject off of who made the dish, because I know the fact that Miguel's mom or Abuela is the one who made it will somehow end up being revealed and I just don't want that right now.

"Sure," he says with his trademark side grin. He grabs a fork, then sits next to me as he comes back.

"Right... there. That way you get everything,"

He carefully takes a bite. Ay Dios mío, please like it, I'll feel like an awful person if he doesn't. I need to calm down, it's literally just a dish, and everybody has different opinions and tastes, it's okay, it's okay-

He nods, pointing his fork at the dish.

"Stay friends with whoever made that," Robby says. Yay! I laugh I can't help but smile on the inside too. Okay, Robby Keene. I will.

• • •


A/N: Salve! I know this is a super super short chapter, but it's really just a filler that didn't go with the previous part nor the chapter coming up, but I hope it was still of good quality :)

Stay safe and take care of yourselves

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