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"WELL, IT'S BEEN a pleasure knowing you, kid."
Thea rolled her eyes at Bex's sigh, her grip on her backpack tightening. "You're being dramatic."
"No I'm not and you're denying it because you're scared." Bex mused as she fumbled with her ring of keys, searching for her house key. The autumn zephyr nipped at the girls' bare hands, turning light skin paler. Thea repeatedly pushed back locks of dark hair that blew into her face as Bex opened the door to her house.
"Look, I can't just leave the team hung out to dry," she explained. "We have a real shot at winning nationals if—"
"If their secret weapon isn't at risk every day for being killed by God knows what!" Bex interrupted, turning around. Her brows were furrowed and she had lost the dancing twinkle in her eyes.
"Thea, I don't know what Peter's deal is but I don't think his excuse is anywhere close to yours. Literally, you standing here is probably gonna get you killed!"
Thea stared at her flatly. "So it's me going to D.C. that's gonna draw sellswords near, not your obnoxious shouting?" She smiled innocently when Bex glared at her.
The Ortega house was definitely Thea's favorite place in the world. She wasn't sure if it was the antique light fixtures or the lamp from Goodwill that matched the one at her place. The decorations were eclectic but ordinary. There was always Spanish music playing quietly somewhere in the warm space and the sweet smell of gardenias that Abuela liked to grow by the window. Closer to lunch or breakfast, aromas from whatever was cooking on the stove would fill up the kitchen and eventually, every room.
But who she was really looking for was—
"Theadora, linda!"
Bex's grandmother sashayed up to Thea with her arms wide open. She was thin, diminutive. Her flowing floral skirt swept across the ground and her array of necklaces clinked against each other with each stride. Her little brown bob framed a lively face decorated with makeup.
"How are you, nena?" Imelda Riera asked, holding the girl's face in her fragile hands. Her skin was thin as paper but plump at the same time.
"I'm good, señora," Thea answered with the biggest, most natural smile on her face. "School was great. I got an A on my history test."
"Oh, muy bien hecho!" She did a cute little jig with her arms and laughed, dramatically throwing her flower-patterned scarf over her shoulder.
Thea felt afraid when she saw Abuela Imelda walking around the apartment sometimes. She was 74. Sitting next to her was hard; Thea wanted to pull her into her lap and embrace her so that she knew she loved her and everything she had done for her. When times were tough and she needed someone to rely on other than Bex, Abuela Imelda was always right next door. Bex's mother worked long shifts as a nurse practitioner, her father was out of the picture the moment he discovered his daughter's sexuality, and with Serafina merely tasked with the responsibility of keeping Thea alive, it fell to Abuela to be something more to the girl— a warm hug, a gentle word, and comfort food.
