Peace in a Storm

40 - Max

I tugged at the black sleeves of my graduation gown and adjusted the graduation cap on my head, unsure of the boy staring back at me in the mirror. He wasn't the same one I'd looked at when I started this new year. We may have resembled each other and shared some similar traits: the curly hair, the dark eyes, the bad temper, and the smart mouth. But, we were completely different.

The boy from January was angry all the time and sought for the first opportunity to unleash it; whether it be through physical relations with girls or fighting with the first person who pissed him off. That boy was punching his way through life without an idea of where his path was taking him.

This boy was calm and hopeful. He was in love with a beautiful girl, and he had aspirations towards a career and a future family. He wasn't giving up fighting, but he wasn't utilizing it anymore. He promised himself it'd be a hobby rather than a habit; it'd only be used in the octagon – or when someone hopped on his last nerve. This boy, although still just

as hot-headed as the first, was a person I thought I'd rather be. Someone I thought I could be proud of being.

A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts. From the mirror, I saw my mother waltz through the door. She was wearing a simple black sundress that fell to her ankles and black wedges. At the sight of me, her brows creased together and tears threatened to fill her dark eyes. "Oh, mi hijo," she whispered, bringing her hands to her lips.

"Mama," I sighed. "Please don't cry yet. We haven't even gotten to the school yet."

"I know, but mirate," she said as she walked closer to me. She grabbed my hand and turned my body to face her. "You're graduating." A sad smile spread across her face. "I feared I'd never see this day."

I frowned as her eyes fell to my torso, acknowledging the scars from the bullet holes through my clothes. "I'm sorry...for making you worry."

She shook her head. "No, no, you don't need to apologize, mi hijo."

"I do," I insisted. "You have been nothing short of a phenomenal mother, and I'm truly sorry that my actions reflected anything less of that. But, I'm going to make you proud now, mama."

"You've always made me proud, Maximiliano. Despite that hot head of yours, you've always persevered through your storms." She squeezed my hands. "I'm just sorry that you had to go through most of them alone. I'm sorry for not hearing you when you were blatantly calling for help. But, I'm more in tune now, mi hijo, and I hope you'll talk to me when you're feeling upset."

"I will, mama. I promise."

She smiled at me, pressing her palm against my cheek. "Te amo, Maximiliano."

I pulled her into a tight hug, my chin resting on her head. "I love you too, mama."

"Aww," Cat cooed from the doorway. She and Cristian were standing there, watching us. Cat was clad in a simple crop top and skater skirt with sandals while Cristian was wearing

a white long sleeved tee with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. "Isn't that adorable?"

Mama smiled. "Ven aquí," she said to my siblings.

Cristian and Cat obeyed our mother's command. We huddled around her as she wrapped all three of us in her slender arms. "Oh mis niños. Los amo tanto chicos."

"We love you too, mama," Cristian said. As we broke out of our group embrace, he handed her the camera she'd been looking for earlier.

"Ah," Mama exclaimed. "Now I can take pictures!"

A scowl twisted on my lips as I glared at my brother. "I hid it on purpose!"

Cristian grinned. "I know. Why'd you think I was the one who volunteered to look for it?"