The Spectator

Chapter 31: Secondary

     When Ella got home, she could hear music playing in the backyard. She paused in front of the door, listening to the sound of it drift to her on the wind. It filled her with a sudden ache. It reminded her of New Years. She'd been doing her best to keep herself busy, but the thought of Nate always crept up on her in quiet moments. She shook her head and went inside.

     Her father probably had friends back there, the same good for nothings that kept sneaking him beers. Her mother had practically beaten them out of the house with a broom last time they were around— a change for the woman who was usually so quiet around her husband's friends. Ella was proud of her. Things were still fucked up in the Vazquez household— there was too much history for there not to be— but there was a peace in the house. Her dad seemed to be responding to treatments and had actually been cooperating with staying sober... things were looking better.

     She went to the sliding glass doors that led to her back yard. She looked out, feeling warm and homey and... who the fuck was that, sitting with her mother, father and sister at the domino's table? She pressed her face to the glass, saw that flash of dirty blonde hair—

     She yanked the door open with a loud scrape. Everyone paused in their laughter and looked to Ella like they'd been caught with drugs at an airport. Ella crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

     "Well, good evening everyone." She greeted them dryly. "Nate."

     "Ella..." he stood from his chair. Her father also stood, hands up in the air defensively.

     "Now, listen, m'ija," He's approached her using the soft tones of a hostage negotiator. The Vazquez's had been made well aware that Nate was public enemy number one and his daughter was shooting daggers with her eyes. "El Rubio solo quiere hablar contigo... Why don't you listen to what he has to say?"

     "Aren't you the one who told me que no me metiera con ese Rubio?" She hissed, gesturing towards the table. Nate watched the exchange with increasing worry. He hadn't expected a parade when he got here, but she was flailing her hands around a lot. Maybe this wasn't going to turn out as well as he thought...

     "Ay! That was before! This is now! And he's here to talk to you— Yesi, Thalia let's go set the table for dinner, no?" He called to his wife and daughter who got up, giving Nate encouraging pats on the shoulder.

     "Good luck," Thalia laughed following her parents inside. This left Ella and Nate alone together, staring at each other from opposite ends of the patio.

     "Hi," he said awkwardly.

     "Hi."

     "Would you like to... sit with me for a second?" He asked, pulling out a chair for her. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered. Her instagram photos really didn't do her justice... not that he'd been stalking her social media because he missed her. Nope. Not him.

     Pursing her lips, she closed the distance and sat down.

     "Why are you here, Nate?" She didn't know why but she suddenly felt like crying. What right did he have, surprising her like this? When she'd just been feeling good about herself, when she'd just been moving on—

     "I came to apologize," He locked his eyes on hers. Oh, no. Eye contact with Nate was never a good idea. Surprisingly, he broke first, looking down at his lap before speaking again. "I acted like a dick the last time we spoke. I made it seem like I didn't believe you could make it on your own. But you, Ella, are the most self-sufficient person I know. And the smartest. And the kindest... And also the funniest. Basically... you're great."