The Fuentes Family

33

Alex

Santiago closes the front door behind him as he leaves, going out to smoke. I told Amelia I'd talk to him. Actually, I told her I'd apologise, but that's not happening.

Someone hops onto my back then slides down. Startled, I spin around, thinking it's a little kid that's here for some reason, but it's just Val.

"Guess what?" I beams.

"Qué?"

"I passed my driving test!"

"Jesus, do they realise who they're putting on the roads?"

"I'm an awesome driver! Wanna test out my skills?" For some reason those words that come out of his mouth seem like he's said them hundreds of times before and in the wrong context.

"No, gracias," I turn around and take steps to the door.

"You're not gonna congratulate me?"

"I was, but now that you've said that it'll be weird if I do."

"Oh, right. Of course."

When I'm outside, I hesitantly sit beside Santiago on the porch bench. He doesn't look at me, just focuses on something in the distance and inhales his cigarette.

"Things got... a little out of hand."

He sighs, the smoke coming out his mouth, and drops his cigarette hand. "I'm sorry for the shit I said."

"Wait what? You just said you're sorry?"

"Yes, Alex. We're don't all care about our pride as much as you do."

I run my hand through my hair, building up the strength. "I shouldn't have hit you."

He shrugs. "I had it coming, besides, Mom made you pay for that."

"I know, you little prick," I shove his shoulder and he smiles a little.

He speaks after taking another draw. "Look, I'll cut down how much I take as long as you stay out of it. You just make me want to take more to annoy you."

"And how'd that end up?"

"Not good," he rolls his eyes. "Don't look around my shit again or i'm seriously done with you."

"Fine." I look at the cigarette in his hand and want it. Can you ever look at one and not want it if you've smoked before? I take it, allowing myself this one time and he gives me an annoyed look, then takes another from the box beside him and lights it.

The cig coming to my lips, I inhale, closing my eyes and the long draw burns my throat. I used to love that feeling, and every time I smoke I get a small reminder of why. Santiago watches me, thinking. "Why'd you stop smoking?"

I think hard, looking for an excuse further than it's bad. "Every time I smoked I felt guilty, like as if I was hurting people, and myself. It's great, but I knew I couldn't let myself get addicted." I pause, looking into his blue eyes that are so different from Amelia's. I never found blue eyes so interesting until now; how they're all different. 'Tiago's are electric light blue with white flares going through them, and Amelia's are a deep blue with green spreading into them like fire into water.

"Addiction scares me," I continue, "It scares me to depend on something instead of just myself, or to feel like you need something or you're gonna die." Saying these words aloud, I discover that I am addicted to something. I'm addicted to Amelia Miller. Shit.

"You must be pretty strong minded to do that," he says before putting his cigarette to his lips, losing all interest in what I said.

"So, are we good now?"