Almost There

- 27 -

The next day, Tess waited for Isaac near his locker in the passing period after Calc. She nervously hugged her books to her chest as she watched him approach, afraid he'd give her the cold shoulder after his curt words the previous day, but when he saw her waiting there, he greeted her with a smile.

"Hola," he said.

"Hey." Tess braced herself. She was reluctant to revive the memory of their tense conversation, but she had to; she needed to make sure Isaac understood and that he wasn't mad any more. "Isaac, I wanted to say I'm sorry about yesterday."

Isaac opened his locker to exchange his books, sparing her a questioning glance. "Yeah?"

"I should have told you about Miguel. I guess I didn't think about it. I hope you don't feel like I was keeping anything from you, because I wasn't—not intentionally."

"Oh. I'd almost forgotten about it, Tess," he said. "Besides, I should apologize too. I was kind of a jerk. It's no big deal. I just get a little jealous sometimes."

Awash with relief, Tess smiled. "You don't have to be jealous."

"I know that." Isaac grinned at her, slamming his locker shut. "I overreacted."

"Apology accepted. Are we okay?"

"Of course we're okay. Just maybe tell me next time you're hanging out with some dude?"

As Isaac started down the hall, Tess gave him a hesitant smile. "I can do that. Not that I'm hanging out with many guys. I don't think you could call tutoring sessions 'hanging out,' anyway."

"That's a good point." Isaac leaned down and brushed a quick kiss over Tess's cheek. "I'm being stupid. Walk you to class?"

"Thanks." Tess smiled at him, relieved that they'd put the matter behind them.

***

"Tess, what do you think of these shoes? I'm sorry, Miguel—I only need her for a moment."

"No worries, Mrs. Morrison," said Miguel. "She's actually waiting on me." Tess's newest Senior English assignment was a critique of an article—a real, published article, from a real author or journalist. She'd chosen a news article about the latest fad diet to critique, and Miguel was reading through it to help her decide if it would work for the assignment.

Clarette had come into the room with a pair of silver kitten-heeled shoes. There were ribbons trailing down from them which Tess assumed would be wrapped around the ankles of the wearer. "These shoes? What for?" she asked.

Her mom rolled her eyes with a sigh and a smile. "Honey, for your homecoming dress."

"Oh." Tess hadn't even thought of shoes. "I thought I might wear the sparkly flip-flops."

"Well, you could," said Clarette. "I just wanted to offer these, because the heels are only half an inch. I think they'll look darling with any dress you find, but I want you to be comfortable. You can have them, if you want; I think I wore these for a wedding once and haven't had an occasion for ribbony heels since. Fancy that."

Tess eyed the short heels; if there were any high-heeled shoes she'd be comfortable in, it would probably be these. With the ribbons, they reminded her of ballet slippers. "Julia would love them," she said with a small smile. "Can I try them on after I'm done with homework?"

Looking at Tess fondly, her mom nodded. "Of course, honey. I'll put them on your bed. Make sure they aren't too loose, or you'll slide around in them all night. If these aren't comfy, sparkly flip-flops will look great, too." She took the shoes out of the room, the ribbons fluttering behind her.

Miguel set the article aside, finished reading. "Who's Julia?" he asked.

"My sister. She was a ballerina—she did all kinds of dance, really." Tess hesitated. "She died last year."

An expression of empathy warmed Miguel's features. He glanced down for an instant, his eyes catching on the ballet slipper necklace Tess wore, and then met her gaze. "Oh, Tess. I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Tess reached for the article he had lain on the table, ready to push the matter aside as she normally did; she didn't want to make Miguel feel awkward.

"It's weird how the little things remind you of them, isn't it?"

Surprised, Tess met Miguel's gaze. "Yeah. It is," she said, wondering how he knew.

He must have perceived her unspoken question. "I lost my dad a couple years ago. It was a heart attack. I won't say I'm done grieving, but most days I'm okay. Then, something random will remind me of him out of the blue. It's not like it was right after he died, when I'd wake up and remember he was gone. It was like losing him again every morning. Still, it hurts."

At first, Tess didn't quite know what to say. She knew her parents understood the grief of losing Julia, but they were older than Tess; they had lost people they loved before. She'd never met a person near her age who understood. "I know exactly what you mean, Miguel. You're used to being without them day in and day out, and you get along, but then something reminds you of everything you've lost."

He smiled at her. "I didn't mean to get personal. Sorry about that. You just made me think of him, that's all. I guess I just want you to know you aren't alone."

She returned his smile, touched. "Thanks. It's nice to know that someone understands."

"Likewise." Clearing his throat, Miguel looked at the article Tess had taken in her hands. "I think this is a good one. You only have to write a page, right? Did she give you a specific structure for the assignment?"

Shaking her head, Tess said, "No—she just said to do a critique of the author's argument. That seems pretty open-ended."

"It is, so you have some flexibility in your approach, but I have a suggestion for a basic outline." Miguel reached for Tess's notebook and a pencil. "It may make sense to talk about the author's credentials. She's a nutritionist, so it makes her credible..."

They bent over the notebook and got to work, and by the time they were finished for the night, Tess felt differently about Miguel; she'd appreciated his skills as a tutor, but she now felt he was becoming something like a friend.