The Jock, The Nerd and The Geek

24

His Abuela spoke again now. "Marcos."

"I did it for you," Maria's eyes were glassy now but she didn't look sad. She looked angry. Hurt. Pained. "Your Father died and left us penniless and everyday, I fight just so we can keep our house. So we can eat. So we can have a comfortable life. And what? You want me to babysit you? You want me to watch over you? You're eighteen, Marcos!"

"I know," He nodded, looking down now. His fists were clenched together as he tried to keep his voice even. "It's w-why it hurts so much b-because I knew I couldn't ask you to be with me a-anymore. That's why I asked Andrea for help."

Once again, he had managed to surprise her again. "What? W-What help? You—"

"I let him take me on a dates and hit me so he could give you your tips and Alex found out—" Marcos looked up now. He couldn't breathe well. The tears were clogging up his throat. "The girl that was there for me left me because I was trying to get you back. That is what I get for being greedy."

"He— He—" Maria stared at her son, her eyes moving through his body. "Why would you do something like that?"

Marcos could feel a slight tendril of hate wrap itself around his heart as he said, "You knew I was scared of him but never stopped inviting him. You kept thinking he'd be the one to bring me to my senses. You could have asked, but as always, you tried to ignore it because you don't want to try understanding. You never—"

He paused now, taking in a large breath of air before brushing the tears falling from his cheeks, shaking his head. "It doesn't change anything. You have everything fixed. And I'm happy for you. That's all that matters."

Marcos turned around and ran back up the stairs, entering his room and slamming the door close before getting into the bed and slipping under the comforter.

"It hots, Mommy," He whimpered, curling his body more now. "It hots. Me t-tiwad. P-Pwease make stop."

Breathe for me, Princess.

He shook his head. "Nu here. You nu here."

I'd always be with you, Eros. Always.

He felt a hand rest on his body through the thick cloth over his body and he tensed before the hand began to stroke him through it silently.

Though they didn't speak, he could already sense who it was, and though it took a while, he began to relax, counting alongside with her strokes before he heard her ask softly, "Pray with me?"

Marcos didn't say anything for a while, staying underneath before poking his head out, his comforter still over his neck. "I— I don't remember how to,"

Abuela gave him a warm smile. His room remained dark but there was an oil lamp in her left hand as she said, "Just close your eyes and listen to my voice, love. Will you?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, his Abuela's soft voice now floating through his room. "Dear Virgin Mary, thank you for keeping my grandson safe all this while. He has done... Certain things that put him in danger but I am truly grateful that he is alive. That he is well. And that he remains the most beautiful boy I ever set my eyes on. I come to ask one thing. For his sake. I want him to realize he's not alone. That no matter what happens, he has people around him who love him. Who would do anything to see him become the wonderful man you brought him here to be. Amen."

Then she blew out the light on the lamp and set it beside his bed before patting her thighs. "Come,"

He obeyed, crawling to her then put his head on her thigh, staring at the door as she heard him say softly, "How do you feel?"