Electric Tacos (Wattys 2023)

TWENTY THREE

"What are you thankful for, Mateo?" He asked himself as he straightened out his blue shirt. He was standing, looking at himself in the mirror. "I'm thankful for my friends, for them not batting an eyelid at me coming out–they probably knew already–or weren't paying attention, for Tito defending my honor, and my pinche arm almost being healed."

He walked over to the iron he'd plugged in and finished ironing his khaki pants.

He could finally move his fingers enough to do it.

He smelled the fresh warmth of the fabric cleaner and the iron before taking them and putting them on.

He made sure that his socks and shoes looked presentable too.

Then, he sat down on his bed and went back to finish the blunt he'd put in his ashtray. He lay across his bed, waiting in anticipation for the door to knock.

For the other Mendez clan to come.

For the family to meet at Thanksgiving once again.

He lay for the next half an hour, listening to music and watching a rerun of Kojak or Magnum. Or one of those cop programs, on his television, before the door finally knocked hard.

He let out a sigh.

"Mateo, vamonos!" Sr. shouted down the hallway. "Your primos are here."

He rolled his eyes. "Can't wait."

He gave himself a good spray over twice and opened the bedroom window before making his way into the lounge to sit down on the last empty space beside Marisol.

There was a chair laid out for him with a cushion on it. The sofa spaces had been taken up by Jay, Pammy, 'Aunt' Jenadine, Uncle Marco, Oscar, and Chino.

Sr. was walking in and out with cups of coffee, tequila glasses, water, hot chocolates, and random fruit juice.

Mateo stared at Chino, who glared back. Oscar started staring at him too. He started to click his tongue.

"So, you into Tito?" Chino asked. His dark eyes shifted and cut through his soul. "That Hermandad shit?"

Mateo started to sweat as Chino started to scowl. Marek shrugged. "Maybe?"

"Don't lie to me."

"Why do you care anyway? You don't give a shit about me, even on my birthday." Mateo glared back at him. Sr. shook his head. "You know it's true."

"He was in my class at school. He seems nice at first, but then he shows his true colors." Chino said. "Just watch him."

Mateo looked back at Chino. "Why do you suddenly care about me, when it gives you an advantage and makes you look good?"

Chino shook his head. "Why are you being a little bitch?"

"Enough," Sr. said. "If you're gonna keep being vulgar, go outside. Not in my house."

Mateo walked out of the room. Oscar walked out with Chino. They all went out into the yard.

Mateo stood by the gate and started to smoke a cigarette. He began coughing.

Chino shook his head. "Why are you tryna fit in so badly?"

Mateo shrugged. "I'm not."

"You're smoking. You've never smoked before."

"I smoke weed, and I smoke cigarettes. I've been smoking for a while now."

Chino scoffed as he ran his fingers through his dark, spiky hair. "Is it those Cruzes?"