I don't call my dad, but Elena does. On Monday morning she comes strolling into my room like she has every right to, already fully dressed with a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone held between her shoulder and her left ear, and plops onto the edge of my bed.
"Yeah. I will, pá," she says.
I groan and bury my face in my pillow again to block out the sunlight.
"Okay," Elena says. "Feli is right here, do you want to talk to him too?"
My eyes immediately snap open. I sit up, shaking my head at her, but she ignores me. With a syrupy-sweet smile, she says, "Alright, bye! Talk to you soon!" and pushes the phone into my hand.
For a heartbeat, I'm tempted to just hang up, but then I take a deep breath and hold the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hola, Felipe," dad's deep voice sounds through the speaker. "How are you doing?"
"Fine," I mumble. "You?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. I've been on vacation with Samantha for a few weeks. We went to Bali. Terrific place." Samantha; his new and improved wife, who has the same hair color and build as mom but is twenty years younger. "Of course I would've asked you and Elena to come with too, but I know how busy you two were with school... Hey, aren't college applications coming up?"
"Those were eight months ago."
"Oh. Well. Did you get in?"
"Yeah, I... I got into the University of Arizona."
"Awesome! Awesome."
"Yeah. I read that it's really-"
"Listen, uh... I've gotta go now, Samantha has some kind of appointment," he cuts me off. "I'll talk to you again soon, alright?"
He hangs up before I even get to open my mouth. I look up at Elena, who's still sitting on the edge of my bed, and toss the phone into her lap.
"Great fucking talk," I say and get to my feet, shoving the blanket off me.
"Feli," Elena says. She's using the same drawn-out tone that mom talks in when she wants you to know she's disappointed about something you did.
"What?" I snap as I yank open my closet doors.
"Nothing. I just don't get why you always get so worked up about him. He didn't even say anything bad."
"This time," I point out. "And that's only because we only talked for like thirty seconds." One minute longer and he would've asked either 1) Do you have a girlfriend yet? or 2) Are you sure you still need therapy? Pretty expensive, your chats with that woman.
Elena only sighs, another echo of mom, and stands up. "Whatever. I have to go to work. What are you going to be doing today?"
"Hang out with Aaron."
"Of course you are," Elena laughs. "Have fun. I'll see you later."
I only nod, glad that, unlike Andrea and Isabel, she actually closes the door behind her.
When she's gone, I quickly change into the first clean items I can find in the mess that's my closet; a crinkled, oversized t-shirt and some baggy jeans. The rest of my clothes lies scattered around my room, along with a bunch of magazines and trinkets and school books I can't bring myself to throw out yet. Mom tells me at least once a day to clean, but even though the mess makes me even more anxious, I never find the energy to actually go in and do it.
By the time I make it to the kitchen, no one else is there anymore, which means that no one can judge me for only eating a banana for breakfast. While I sit at the table, I turn on my phone.
The first notification that pops up is from Aaron. good morning!! meet me at the playground at twelve?? :)
Item number two hundred and thirty-eight: his ridiculous double punctuation after every sentence when he's texting.
Without my doing, my lips curve into a smile as I text back: kay.
It's already a quarter to twelve, so I quickly race to the bathroom to brush my teeth and leave the house with nothing except my wallet and keys. The midday heat hits me like a wall as soon as I step outside and when I pick up my bike from where I tossed it onto the front lawn, I find the handlebar almost too hot to touch.
By the time I make it to my destination, my curls are sticking to my forehead and the back of my neck. Because it sits right between our two houses, the playground has been our meeting spot ever since my parents got divorced and we moved from the street where Aaron lived to the other side of the suburb.
Aaron is already waiting on the swing set, lazily swinging back and forth. His face lights up when he sees me and he jumps off the swing, whirling up little clouds of dust as he lands. "Morning."
"Hey." I smile back at him. "Nice shirt."
"Why, thank you," he laughs. The shirt in question is a blue tee with Miles Morales from Into The Spiderverse on it. I gifted it to him for Christmas after we watched it together for the first time in the little cinema an hour away and immediately agreed that it's the best movie in cinema history. He wears it so often that the print has started to fade a little, which is a fact that makes my heart feel just a little too big for my chest every time I see him in it. "Ready to go?"
I nod and watch as he picks up his bike from where it's been lying at his feet. We know where we're going without having to talk about it; this has been a tradition for almost as long as the driving around at night.
The Walmart we're heading to is located in the center of the town, tucked neatly between a bakery and the ice cream shop where Elena works. We lean our bikes against the wall, not bothering to lock them, before we enter together.
I don't know why I still get so nervous every time we do this, but the smell of the store along with the airconditioned cold is enough to make a shiver run down my spine.
Aaron, like always, notices. "Three minutes and we're through," he says, knocking his shoulder against mine. "Just in and out."
It's the same thing he said to me the first time we did this. I was fifteen then and Aaron had just turned sixteen. He spotted me standing in front of the store on a Wednesday afternoon, a prescription from the doctor in my hand and tears running down my cheeks, and muttered Why didn't you tell me? I'll go with you. Come on, three minutes and we're through. After that, I never had to go alone again.
Now, I grimace and follow him as we wind our way through the labyrinth of shelves. The air seems to get colder and the aisles more narrow the deeper we get into the store, until finally the pharmacy comes into view.
Aaron saunters up to it with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. "Hi Mrs. Mason!"
The woman behind the counter turns around with a smile. "Hey, you two! How are you doing?"
"Good!" Aaron immediately says. I only nod, rubbing a hand over my eyes.
"Good, good!" Mrs. Mason echoes in her nasal voice. She's only a little older than my mom, with blond hair that she always wears in a ponytail and skin that looks almost translucent under the fluorescent lights of the store. "Let's see what I have here for you..." she says, as if it isn't the exact same thing every time, and turns around.
Aaron leans his hip against the counter and whistles to himself, grinning when I throw him a glance.
A moment later, Mrs. Mason turns back around and sets two brown paper bags down in front of us. In the beginning, it was just one; then Aaron showed up one day triumphantly waving a prescription of his own in his hand.
"Thanks, Mrs. Mason," he says, grabbing the larger bag without hesitation before he passes the other one to me. "Have a good day."
"No problem!" she says, still smiling. "Enjoy!"
"Thank you," I murmur under my breath as we turn around and head towards the exit. "I will most definitely enjoy my artificial serotonin."
Aaron lets out one of his high-pitched cackles. "Yes, and I my miraculous man-fluid."
"Ew, don't call it that," I laugh, the tension seeping out of me as soon as we step through the doors and the dry summer air pulls me in again.
"Man-fluid. Man-juice. Man-extract. Man... I can't think of anything else."
"Jesus," I chuckle. "It's testosterone, not jizz."
"So vulgar," Aaron laughs. With the hand that's holding the paper bag, he points at the ice cream store next door. "Come on, I'll treat you to a sundae."
"You don't have to. I get a family discount because of Elena."
"Even better." He grins as he holds the door for me. "I'm practically family, right?"
I don't have to give a response to that; the way Elena smiles at him when she spots us, receiving an enthusiastic wave from him in return, is answer enough.
Even though it's only one pm and therefore an odd time to eat ice cream, the inside of the shop is bustling with what seems like half the town. The whole place is supposed to look like a 1950s malt shop or something, with checkered tiles and red leather seats and an old jukebox that a loud group of fifteen-year-olds is currently hogging.
When we finally find a booth, Aaron throws himself onto the seat opposite me before he leans forward and gently sets his bag down on the table. I set mine down next to it; despite the tinny sound of the song that's playing and the deafening chatter around us, I still feel like everyone can clearly hear the rattling of the pills inside their container.
Throwing a glance at the big clock on the wall, Aaron says, "It's almost one. Did you already take one?"
"Not yet."
He nudges the paper bag closer in my direction. I roll my eyes at him, but pull it towards me and open it nevertheless, quickly taking the little container out and tipping one little white pill into the palm of my hand. The first few times I had to take them, I almost cried because I was convinced I couldn't swallow them. A month later, Aaron showed me how he did his t-shot for the first time. After seeing him stab himself in the leg with a needle almost as long as his pinky finger, I never complained about the pills again.
"That's my boy," Aaron beams and reaches out to high-five me over the table after I've swallowed it dry.
"Thanks, mom," I chuckle and quickly slip the container back into the paper bag.
A moment later, Elena makes her way over to our table. "Hey guys! What can I get for you two?"
"Same as always, right?" I say, looking at Aaron.
"Yep. Cute uniform, by the way," Aaron says, grinning up at her. It pisses me off that the pink and white shirt and the little hat she has to wear don't look stupid on her when they do on everyone else.
"Thank you, Aaron. Always such a charmer," Elena laughs. Pointing at the paper bag in front of me, she adds, "Remember to take your meds, Feli."
"I already did. Also, your uniform looks dumb."
She snorts, unbothered, and tucks her pencil behind her ear in a way that looks infuriatingly cool. "Yeah, alright. I'll be right back with your ice cream."
"Thanks, El!" Aaron shouts after her. Once she's out of earshot, he turns to look at me again. "Dude, that was kinda harsh."
"She deserves it," I mumble. "She came into my room this morning and forced me to talk to dad."
"Things are getting heated in the Rivera household," Aaron laughs.
"Literally when are they not?"
"At least you always have something going on," he points out. "I already know that France with only my parents is gonna be boring as hell."
I send him a blank stare. "Yeah, I truly cannot imagine how terrible it must be to be an only child to two rich parents who casually take you to Paris over the summer."
"Feli, you don't know what it's like," he whines, dramatically sliding half-way down the couch. "They're always just talking about adult shit. They told me they want to visit a bunch of old churches and eat tons of cheese and go to a winery. I don't even like wine. Or cheese!"
"Aw, probrecito, I'm so sorry."
"I hope you know I'll text you every day," he earnestly says. "You will get spammed, dude. Maybe I'll send you croissant reviews or something."
"Great," I laugh. "Really rub it in."
Before he can respond, Elena pops up next to me again and sets two large bowls of ice cream down in front of us. "There," she says. "You don't have to pay, it's on me."
Now I suddenly feel bad for the comment on her uniform. Aaron must have the same thought; he kicks my shin under the table until I turn my head and mutter, "Sorry about what I said, El. Your uniform looks good."
She only grins and gives a condescending pat to my head. "I know it does. Buen provecho, dumbass."
I offer her a sheepish smile and watch as she heads back to the counter. When I turn my head, Aaron is already digging into his sundae. Item number two hundred and thirty-nine: the way he scrunches his nose every time he eats something cold.
"Ah fuck," he says around a mouthful of strawberry ice cream. "Brain freeze."
Laughing, I lean across the table to steal the cherry on top of his sundae, like always- he doesn't like them. In exchange, he reaches over and helps himself to a generous spoonful of whipped cream.
"You got some there," I say, gesturing at his upper lip.
"Here?" he asks and points at his face.
Normally, I would just reach out and wipe it off for him, but when I glance over my shoulder and realize that Elena is watching us, I only toss a napkin at him. "No, a little to the left."
Aaron frowns and lifts the napkin to his face. He's still busy wiping his mouth when from the corner of my eyes I see the door opening again.
"Aaron," I murmur, nudging his knee under the table, but by the time he turns his head, the White Teeth Teens have already spotted us.
"Hey!" Chloe exclaims, rushing over to our table. She's wearing another yellow dress and heart-shaped sunglasses that she has pushed up to her head. From her ears dangle big earrings that look like lemons. "I didn't know you were here today!"
"I usually don't send the whole town my location when I go out," Aaron chuckles.
Before she can respond, Bryce, a tall white guy who's built like a tank, throws himself into the booth next to Aaron, forcing him to scoot to the very edge to make room for him. "AJ, my man!" he shouts, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
I don't know what bothers me more; the fact that he touches him without permission or the nickname. Ever since he came out as trans, I rarely call Aaron by anything other than his name. He fought too hard for it for me not to use it.
"Bryce!" Aaron responds in the same tone. His voice has dropped an octave lower again. "What's up?"
"Not much, not much. Spent the morning working out and helping my dad in the garage. We're fixing up this old Chevvy over the summer and had to..."
Even though Bryce is always yelling, I can never focus on what he's saying for long. With the other White Teeth Teens crowding around our table, Chloe's vanilla perfume heavy in the air and Bryce's loud voice ringing in my ears, the room suddenly seems to shrink. I cup my hands around the ice cream bowl in front of me and try to focus on the cold and the drops of condensation beneath my fingertips, not on the way my lungs feel a little too small all of a sudden.
On the opposite side of the table, Aaron asks questions and laughs at the right moments and nods along like he gives a damn about cars, his eyes trained on Bryce and sometimes on Chloe whenever she throws in a remark.
I feel like I've slipped out of time somehow.
That is, until Bryce suddenly asks, "Yo, what's this?" and reaches for the smaller paper bag that's still perched on the edge of the table.
I want to open my mouth, but Aaron beats me to it. "That's Feli's," he says and grabs the bag before Bryce can.
Bryce looks at me for the first time then, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Oh? What's in it?"
"None of your business," I murmur, watching as Aaron's fingers tighten a little around the bag.
"Oh my God," Cassandra, the only other girl in the clique beside Chloe, drawls and leans closer to me, to the point that her hair is tickling the side of my face. "Is it drugs?"
Aaron shakes his head. The easy smile on his lips has morphed into a frown, an expression that always looks out of place on his face. "Who the hell would leave a huge ass bag of drugs out on a table in an ice cream shop?"
With a pout, she steps back again, brushing a perfect brown curl out of her perfect face. "I don't know. It's not like I know anything about Felipe."
Before anyone can respond, Chloe clears her throat and puts a hand on Cassandra's arm, gently pulling her away from our table. "Alright, guys, let's leave these two alone and look for a table. Super nice to see you, Aaron!"
He nods, his expression lightening a little bit. Once Bryce has gotten up, not without slapping Aaron's shoulder hard enough to make his entire upper body rock forward, he hands me the paper bag. "Here."
"Thanks," I mutter.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
Aaron cocks his head a little and nudges his foot against mine under the table. "Wanna get out of here?"
The ice cream has melted by now and I'm not hungry anyway, so I give another nod. Aaron immediately gets to his feet.
I only glance over my shoulder once more when we're almost at the exit, meeting eyes with Chloe from across the room. She's sitting next to Cassandra, still blushing from the earlier interaction with Aaron, looking flawless even under the harsh lights of the ice cream shop. When she sees me, her lips curve into a sheepish smile.
I don't return it. Instead, I catch up to Aaron, clutching the bag so tightly my knuckles turn white, and try to ignore the scent of vanilla that's still stinging in my nostrils.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hi everyone!!
So, in this chapter you find out a little more about Aaron! This is my first time writing a trans main character; as always I'll do my best to give as accurate a representation as possible, but please don't hesitate to call me out if you feel that anything I've written is unrealistic/ harmful/ makes you feel anything less than good and I'll try my best to fix it!! <33
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was one of the hardest to write for absolutely no reason, so I'm glad I can finally post it lmao
Have a wonderful week!!
xoxo