Magic in Costa Rica

Part III. Taking Orders

"Hi, Welcome to Stewart's! How can I help you today?" I looked up from my notepad and smiled brightly at Carla, Mark, and Ethan, who were all staring at me like I was a ghost. I guess that was fair, since I hadn't seen any of them since June.

"Seriously, Alma? You're not even gonna talk to us?" Carla groaned.

"I am talking to you," I said, still cheerful, "I'm taking your order. Do you know what you want?" All three of them sat in a stunned silence. "I'll come back in a few minutes, okay?" I chirped and walked over to Mrs. De Luca, who was waiting patiently as always in her booth. "Morning, Mrs. De Luca, would you like some more coffee while I put in your order?" Mrs. De Luca handed over her empty mug.

"Sure, doll," she looked over my shoulder to see Carla, Mark, and Ethan waving frantically for me to come over. I paid them no mind.

"They're just having some trouble deciding what they want." I turned my attention back to Mrs. De Luca, who gave me a sympathetic shake of her head.

"You kids fighting?" she asked. My smile faltered for a moment.

"No, we're not fighting," I paused, "we're just not speaking."

"Ah, I see," Mrs. De Luca nodded in contemplation. "But it looks like their trying to speak with you right now, and in my experience, you're not gonna stop being mad unless you actually talk about it. So you should give them a chance."

"It's more complicated than that," I sighed.

"Oh, come on, don't give me all that! How complicated can it be?" Boy, was that a loaded question. I paused, unsure of how to respond.

"Well..." my voice trailed off as I recalled all the events of the past summer. For a couple of weeks after school ended, Carla stayed by my side, calling every day and dropping by my house every now and then to make sure I was okay, which I was, mostly. But I refused to speak to or see Mark. I thought that she and I were on the same page, but one day at the end of June, she arrived at my doorstep with Mark in tow, in an effort to force us to make up. I was mad at her and Ethan, who had also helped to arrange the scheme, but I agreed to try and talk it out, mostly because I knew how much Carla and he hated to see Mark and I fight.

We talked for a long time, calmly and fairly, each of us listening to the other intently. Mark explained that he never meant to make a move on Alan before talking to me about it, that it just happened out of the blue and he felt awful for being a bad friend. I told him that I forgave him, which I did, mostly, but I couldn't help but feel a little sick over it, even after he and Carla left thinking everything was okay. I still felt the sting of pain and guilt clinging to my skin every time I thought about it. So, instead of forcing myself to deal with these new circumstances and be okay with the fact that Mark and Alan were a couple, I isolated myself from them completely.

I know, I know, not very mature, but I was done being the mature one. I just wanted to hide in my room and ignore my texts and not talk to anyone. So I did. And every time Carla, or Mark, or Ethan asked to hang out, I came up with some excuse to avoid seeing them. After a while, Mark stopped asking, and then Ethan, and finally Carla. The day that I checked my phone to find no texts or calls from any of them, I realized that I had successfully ruined the only three friendships I had made in seven years. Oh well, it wasn't my fault. That's what I told myself; it wasn't my fault. It was Mark's fault for kissing Alan, and Carla's fault for siding with him, and Ethan's fault for- well, actually Ethan hadn't really done anything wrong. Nevertheless, I didn't take any responsibility for what happened, instead continuing my summer content to pretend that everything was fine.