Ocean Blue ✓

chapter twenty-nine

elliot

I'm almost to the door when Mom catches me off guard.

"Mija," she says in her sternest warning voice, "make good choices."

"When do I not?" I joke, wondering how much they know, what all they've figured out. What if they know? What if they don't let me go to Alyssa's, because "sex bad"?

Dad quirks an eyebrow. "Ellie, you know you can tell us anything."

"I know." Of course I know that. I just don't follow up with it.

"Listen, Ellie, I know I say pretty judgemental things sometimes, but it's just because I care, okay?" Mom leans forward and gives me this sharp, intense look. "I just want to see you happy. I might just worry too much about you. So, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, ever."

"It's okay, Mom," I say quietly, even though I suddenly feel stripped away, completely vulnerable. She's never said anything like this before. She usually gets Dad to say it for her.

Mom shakes her head and places her hands in the air, like she's surrendering. "No, no, it's not. I push you a little too hard sometimes, and I'm sorry."

"We just want you to be happy. No matter what that means for you," Dad says, his face softer than I've seen it in a long time. Such a long time that I think I might have been in elementary school when I last saw it.

"I love you guys," I mutter. "I know you're coming from a good place. I just ... need to figure myself out a bit. I'm sorry if it's stressful. I get it."

"Te quiero, mija," Mom says, reaching across the coffee table. I cross over and bend down to give her a tight hug. Her chin jabs into my shoulder, but I don't care. "Te quiero mucho."

"Te quiero mucho también, mami," I whisper.

"I love the dog more than the two of you," Dad says, "but you're pretty okay, kiddo."

Mom pulls away and thwaps his knee. "Why are you always so cruel, Hooker?"

"You married me."

"I must be a masochist," she says. "Imagine spending the rest of my life with some dog-lover. Masochism."

"Or you just felt bad that I couldn't legally marry the dog. It was a pity marriage."

"Okay," I say, backing away towards the door. Not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. "On the pitying masochist note, Imma leave. Bye, parents."

"Goodbye," Dad says as Mom says, "Be good to that girl."

"Peace out," I mutter, then shut the door.

Alyssa is frowning at her phone when I near the car, but she sets it face down in her lap when I squeeze myself into the driver's seat. "You all toothbrushed up?" she asks me.

"Oh, definitely." I smile over at her. I would kiss her right here, right now, if it weren't for the fact I'm eighty-percent sure my parents are looking out the window to see me leave. I can tell they were a little surprised I actually managed to make a friend who isn't some total weirdo child, or a sudden add-on to the trio of Duncan, Neema, and myself. I don't know if I should find it insulting or endearing that my parents know the extent of my unsociable nature.

"To the Hargreaves's!" I cheer, turning up the radio. The Dodie song resumes, and we finish off our little carpool karaoke, easily transitioning to the next Cavetown number, and the next Still Woozy, and the next Chloe Moriondo. In-between belting lyrics like there's no tomorrow, we manage to fit in little snippets of conversation, from recommending artists the other doesn't know, to talking about plans for Cumm-n-Gitt ice cream.