Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TWO MONTHS LATER • MEXICO
It had almost been three months since I last saw him, but we spoke on the phone frequently. Hearing his accented voice was nothing compared to being in his presence. I missed him.
"Thank you, and by the way, you better come see me next weekend," I told him.
His response was a husky chuckle. "Affirmative, you can show me around. I hear Jalisco is beautiful."
"Yes, it is. The beach is probably my favorite place to go, and don't get me started on the music, the food or the people."
"Sounds like my type of party," Jorge agreed. "Listen, I better get back to work, but I'll call you later tonight or tomorrow. You enjoy your day, you're finally legal."
"Thank you, I'll speak with you soon, 'bye." I hung up and set my phone aside, sighing to myself.
April twelfth, my eighteenth birthday. I never saw myself here back during the fall, I never saw any of the events that had taken place happening back then either. I'd fallen in love, lost my abuela, and I'd gotten shot. With the exception of abuela, I'd seen the danger coming the moment I looked into Nash Soh's eyes. There were flames surrounding him, but I'd embraced the burn, in hopes of a happy ending.
In the end, the fire rose too high and I had to leave, for my own sanity and safety.
Here in Jalisco, Hector and I were free from harm's way it seemed. Back home, Los Soldados thought we'd moved because of my grief and Hector having had enough. Mariposa spoke of the rivalry still being bitter, but things not being as intense as they were before we left. No one else had died, despite a few fights here and there.
Rowland was as it had always been, with the shooting being a mere whisper of the past. Some residents treated it like it had never happened, like a ghost story at a camp fire or something. I was most glad about that. The last thing I wanted was to taint the city that brought me joy and peace.
Jorge and I'd gotten closer and he was insistent that Mr. Lovato, or Bob, would take me back. With all the stories going around, the major being that the shooting had been gang related, he seemed to go with the one about a robbery gone wrong. Really, I think he saw potential in me being a good mechanic, that and he felt bad that I'd gotten shot.
The idea of moving back to the States and to Rowland was something Hector and I talked about sometimes. He was skeptical on the matter, but we both missed our friends. At least in Rowland Hector would just be Hector Ortiz where he'd shed his Soldier past and just be a normal citizen.
When we came to Guadalajara we considered finding a hotel, but our tíos weren't having that. They insisted we come stay with them in their five bedroom estate. Tío Samuel worked at a software company, while tía Pauline stayed home and tended to the house. Our cousin, who was my age, Maura was the sweetest girl. She seemed to be on a far better track than I had ever been on. Our families weren't entirely close if I was being honest, but the moment they met us at the airport they showered us with love.
