Chapter 3

I couldn't be more excited to go back to school on Monday. I could have been dancing up and down the halls. And even as I stood by my locker, tucking my jacket inside, I couldn't stop giggling to myself like a maniac, which is why I didn't notice Ava prodding me on my shoulder. I turned to look at her. "Oh! Good morning Ava!" I said with a smile.

She stared at me. "What are you so cheerful for? Did you win the lottery or something?"

I spun in a circle, my skirt twirling around with me. "Oh, I might have." Javier walked by with his friends and I quickly hopped up and waved at him. "Hey Javier!"

He looked up at me and waved back. "Hey, Marín," he said, before returning to his conversation.

I giggled, my heart fluttering at the sound of his voice. "He said my name."

Ava was still staring at me with a look of disbelief on her face. "Okay...what the hell happened?"

"Oh, nothing. I just...rescued his dog...hehe~"

She rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. "Alright, come on. We're gonna be late to class."

In chemistry, I couldn't focus on anything. My mind remained on the exchange that Javier and I had on Saturday. I replayed it over and over in my mind and my pen would only draw hearts over my notes. Every time I thought of his voice, his smile, it sent shockwaves of happiness through my bones. It would never get old. I crumpled up onto my table and buried my face in my arms as I dreamed about talking to him again. I wanted to hear his wonderful voice again. I wanted him to smile at me again. Was that too much to ask?

"Marín," Ava hissed. "Marín, hello?? Are you asleep?"

I lifted my head off the desk and looked at Ava with my lopsided smile. "I'm still here!"

She looked at me with an unamused expression on her face. "Clearly not. Come on, pay attention."

Though I tried, I couldn't focus on school that day. I was trapped in a lovestruck daydream with hearts in my eyes. I just wanted to talk to Javier again, but he was always surrounded by his other friends. When Ava and I sat down in the cafeteria, I barely touched my food. I kept my eyes trained on Javier and his friends and I was thinking of what I could do to talk to him again.

Ava snapped her fingers in my face. "Dude."

I glanced at her. "Sorry, were you saying something?"

"Jesus Christ, you're no fun to be around when you’re just staring at Javier." She bit down on the bendy straw from her juice box as she unwrapped a sandwich. "You may as well just go over there if you're gonna stare at him the whole time."

I felt a small pinch of guilt for ignoring Ava so much, but those feelings were quickly overshadowed, as they always were. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop apologizing already."

When I finally decided to stand up and talk to him, my legs betrayed me. I stood a few tables away, trying to make myself move, but there was still that lingering anxiety that stuck to me, despite how excited I was to see him. And the figure that represented that anxiety brushed past me, her long, perfect brown hair streaming past me. She didn't seem to notice that I was standing there.

Kendall tapped Javier on the shoulder and they talked, but I didn't process a word of it. All of the voices in the cafeteria were muted out, behind me, far away. It was the way she looked at him. I didn't know what it was, but the way she smiled, the way she leaned in close to him, it made me feel a certain way. It gave me an unpleasant feeling I couldn't define. What was it? I knew I didn’t have a chance when she sat down next to him, weaseling her way in between him and one of his friends. It felt as though a spear shot through my chest as they laughed together, and I dragged my feet as I returned to the table that Ava and I shared.

I poked the hole in my juice box and took a sip in a defeated manner as Ava was looking at me expectantly. Slowly, I met her gaze with mine. "So what was that shirt you wanted me to make for you?"

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I wasn't an avid reader of magazines, but on occasion, I would pick one up and scan it if it caught my eye. To the surprise of Ava, I hardly ever looked at fashion magazines. The ones that did seem interesting to me were the ones about marine biology and the ocean in general. When I was a child, I always wanted to be a marine biologist, and maybe go to the bottom of the ocean in my very own submarine one day. But that interest gradually faded as I got more into making clothes. It was still mildly prominent, lingering in the back of my mind some days, but it wasn't a persistent obsession like it was in elementary school. Ava gave me the magazine that she’d found the t-shirt in, and I had been flipping through it as the day went on. Hardly any of the information registered. The pictures and words all melded together. I couldn't get Kendall's smile out of my head. It had been seared into my brain with the certified "you'll be having nightmares about this tonight!" note. The design of the t-shirt was simple enough. I could recreate it with embroidered patches or something of the like. I'd made plenty of t-shirts before, so it wouldn't take that much work. All I needed to do was find some fabric and good quality thread to use. Though I hadn't touched my sewing machine in months, I knew it would still support me. That kind little hum as it threaded the fabric. I liked to imagine that I was feeding it the fabric, and in return it gave me what I wished for. That was my sewing machine. The one that had been gifted to me by my grandmother.

I sat down on the bus and started flipping through the magazine for the seventh time in the day when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I flinched out of my passive state and looked up to see who it was.

"Mind if I sit here?" I hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten on the bus, I'd been so distracted. What's going on with me? Wordlessly, I nodded and moved my bag aside. Javier sat down next to me and set his backpack on the floor in front of us."Do you take this bus every day?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do. I thought you might've noticed by now," I replied, my tone reflecting something of displeasure.

"I'm sorry about that. I'm clueless about this sort of thing, if you could believe it." His voice was a bit quieter than it normally was, and I noticed that he seemed sincere when he said that to me. The way he talked, it sounded like how I did when I was having an off day. It was strange though---how much color his voice had lost.

"It's okay," I said quickly. "It's not your fault."

Javier pushed a lock of hair out of his face and smiled a little. "That's nice of you to say. You're...not annoyed?"

I shook my head. "No, it's not really a big deal."

"You'd be the first to think so." He sighed and nodded to the magazine in my hands. "Do you like punk music?" he asked, a clear effort to change the subject present as the topic had been pushing further into personal territory.

I glanced at the magazine and nodded. "Oh, yeah. This belongs to my friend, though. I'm just borrowing it."

"What's your favorite band?"

"Ice Nine Kills," I said, and then immediately felt queasy. For that question I'd rehearsed a thousand times, that was always going to be my answer. So why did it feel so wrong to answer that way?

His eyes lit up. "Really? I don't know anyone else that likes them. That's so cool."

"What's your favorite song by them?" I asked, trying to push the squirming discomfort in my stomach away.

"Hmm...I'd have to say Last Words. What about you?"

I smiled nervously and considered my response. I hadn't prepared for this question, but luckily it didn't take long to come up with an answer. "What I Should Have Learned in Study Hall. That one's my favorite."

Javier nodded. "That's good. I'm not a big fan of slow songs, but that one is really good."

A spear shot through my chest. "Oh. Okay." I should have picked a heavier song stop disappointing him stop disappointing him!

"What other bands do you like?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. There was no point in being dishonest any longer. "Panic! At the Disco. I'm actually going into the city on Friday with my friend to see them live."

"That's cool. I'm not a big fan of their music, but that's cool." He looked up at the ceiling, likely deep in thought. "The last concert I went to was probably a Silverstein one? That was a while ago."

I jumped at the mention of Silverstein. "I love their music! It's so good."

"Oh, you do?" He was smiling more, and I could tell he was feeling better. "That's really cool."

We continued talking until the bus arrived at our stop. We walked to the street together, and parted ways on the sidewalk. I watched him, waving, and stood there until I could no longer see him. Then I went inside.

I managed to get straight into my bedroom without alerting my father, and quietly shut the door before sliding into my desk chair. I pushed some things aside and started sketching out a pattern for the shirt. I would need to buy some more fabrics. The leftover ones that had been sitting in my desk drawers wouldn't suffice. I figured I could ask my mother for some money, since usually she gave me whatever I needed without much question. My father also did, but I resented talking to him. And despite the occasional resistance from my mother, it was more bearable than standing under his gaze.

It was the knocking on my door that broke me from my concentration and the dread built in my stomach as I heard my father's voice through the door.