No Me Sueltes

Hey DJ

I lean on the horn for one, two seconds.

"Come on! The light is green, ugh, muevete ya!" I give the horn a few more beeps and roll my eyes as the car in front of my finally inches forward through the intersection.

Joel chuckles and gives my shoulder a light push. "Calmate, I swear that one of these days I might see steam leaking out of your ears or something. And can it before it turns into road rage, okay? I really doubt that we'll be able to finesse our way out of a ticket a second time. Not every cop is going to be a fan of mine."

"Around here they might," I quip, giving him a knowing look (which earns an eye roll in response) before twisting the dial for the radio, Move to Miami blaring from the car speakers. "Eres un potato, Joey."

"Don't call me that," he whines, scrunching his face up.

"And don't touch my aux cord," I retort, slapping his hand away before replacing mine on the wheel.

"Hey." In my peripheral, I can see Joel turn towards me. "I'm really glad that we're getting to do this, you know, hang out before I have to go back. To Miami."

She gon' make you she gon' make you move. She gon' make you move to Miami.

"Me too. Ever since La Banda..." I trail off. Don't get me wrong, I'm beyond happy for my friend getting the chance to follow his dreams, but I guess I miss when his world was smaller, when it was just us in the high desert. When there was no fame, fans, and a few thousand miles between us.

"Hey, I know it's been crazy, but I guess I can occasionally find time for you," Joel teases. "Que vas a hacer sin mi?"

"Just college, I guess. And I'll eat all of your tacos if you tell anyone, but I'm really gonna miss getting to spend time with my best friend again."

"Best friend, huh?" Joel's eyes sparkle. "Well, I might just have to tell Natalia that you said that," he leans over and bumps my right shoulder with his left, referring to one of our close friends as I roll my eyes. "Orrrr," out of the corner of my eye, a head full of dark brown curls leans forward, trying to catch my eye. "Maybe your roommate, what's her name, Maddy?"

"Joel Pimentel De Leon," I inhale, "shut up."

He bursts out into laughter and I can't help but join in.

"I was trying to be sincere," I exhale from my nose and give my head a slight shake. "And you had to be a- a butt,"

"A butt? What are you, Leah, seven?" Joel's smirk only grows as I swat at him, trying to land a light hit on his shoulder and failing. "Pay attention to the road, pendeja! Again, can't risk almost getting another ticket." He leans back into the passenger seat.

I let out a huff and grumble, "I hate it when you're right."

"About you being seven? Or was it the-"

"I will leave you here, right here right now on the side of this road. And shut up, I'm trying to drive."

"Yeah," he muses. "Trying."

"Joel!"

That was a month ago, yet here I am again, stopped at another red light (I seem to be hitting every single one today), but this time I'm in the car by myself. Back in my hometown in the high desert of southern California, wishing more than anything that my sometimes obnoxious best friend was sitting by my side.

It's unsurprising that I'm running late, but I'm supposed to be meeting friends, and it's fairly rare for more than one of us to visit Hesperia, our hometown, at a time, so it's a big deal that three members of our little group are here on the same weekend when it isn't a holiday. But now, "I'm running extra late, wonderful."