“What is it?”
“I don’t think she’s being irresponsible.” His voice shook a little. “She’s standing up for something she believes in. Wouldn’t it be irresponsible for her to stay home and do nothing?”
He didn’t understand—we had a lot more at stake than he did.
Derek continued before I could jump in. “I get that the calculus is different for you guys. But, you can’t stop her from going. What are you going to do, lock her in her room? Wouldn’t it be better that she goes with people she knows? People who’ve done this before?”
“It’d be better if she didn’t go at all. And if I need to lock her in her room, I will.” Which was ridiculous, because I’m not a barbarian, and because we didn’t have locks on our bedroom doors.
Derek rolled his eyes. “If she wants to come, we’re going to let her come.” He crossed his arms over his chest, jaw set, lips pursed, and if I wasn’t so furious, I’d snatch him up and kiss the hell out of him.
But I was arguing with the wrong person. “I need to go.” I grabbed my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack. Derek didn’t stop me. He watched me with what looked like sadness, but I didn’t have the luxury to stop and figure out why it bothered me so much.
At the door, I paused. “Thanks for dinner… and—everything.” I might have been pissed, but none of this was Derek’s fault. It wasn’t fair of me to take it out on him, but I wasn’t in the right mindset to apologize yet. I’d find some other time to do it.
He nodded but didn’t say a word. And somehow, that was worse.
5
“Aless!” I slammed the door shut with too much force. The thing was barely hanging onto its hinges already, it didn’t need my abuse. I tossed my backpack on the couch. “Aless!”
Down the hall, I pounded on her door to give her fair warning before barging in. It was dark in her room, but she was still awake, sitting on her bed, the light from her laptop screen shining in her face.
“Are you talking to Derek?” I pointed at her laptop accusingly.
“What the hell, D?”
I flipped on the light, and she ducked her head, squeezing her eyes shut.
“What the hell?” she repeated loudly. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Derek told me about the protest. You’re not going.” I switched to my big-brother voice even though I was shaking on the inside, worst-case scenario after worst-case scenario scrolling through my head like some horror movie. I could see the news broadcast: seventeen-year-old Mexican-American girl, shot dead at protest, with Aless’s social media pictures plastered across the TV screen. I swallowed back a wave of nausea.
“What?”
“You’re not going to the protest.”
“Ay, what is going on? Why are you yelling, mijo?” Mami came up behind me, hair in curlers, eyes squinting from having been woken up.
“Aless has some crazy notion that she’s going to a protest downtown.”
Mami put her hand on my arm. “You don’t need to yell. We can all hear you.”
“It’s not crazy!” Aless had climbed off her bed, yelling as loud as I was. “It’s a protest to support DACA and the Dream Act. It’s important! I’m going with Diego’s friend and bunch of other law school students.”
“You’re not going.” I pointed at her, as if that would make the decision final.
“Yes, I am.” She stepped in close, chin raised, chest puffed out, pushing my finger aside with her shoulder.
“Okay, okay.” Mami pushed us apart. “It’s late. You both have school in the morning, and I have to work. Go to bed, both of you.”
Aless had the audacity to look smug. “This isn’t over,” I said as Mami turned me around and guided me out of the room. “You’re not going!”
She shut the door behind us but didn’t stop until she had me in the kitchen.
“Mami, you can’t let her go to this thing.” I pointed back toward Aless’s room.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She shook her head while filling the kettle with water.
“It’s a protest, Mami. She wants to go to a protest. You know, where they parade down the street with signs and chants and stuff? Fights break out, and police show up with their riot gear and spray people with tear gas. People get arrested. Sometimes people die.” I had a death grip on the counter, my fingers hurt from where they dug into the cheap laminate.
“It’s about DACA?” Mami looked far too calm as she pulled a mug down and dropped a tea bag into it.
“Who cares what it’s about?” She pinned me with a look that had me feeling like a little boy again. “Yes, it’s about DACA and the Dream Act.”
Mami turned back to her tea and shrugged. “Maybe she should go.”
My ears must have been malfunctioning. First Aless, then Derek, and now Mami; they were all teaming up on me, and none of them saw any sense.
“Are you kidding me? Those things are dangerous. You’re going to let her risk her life like that?”
She poured hot water into her mug and then picked it up. Eyes lowered, blowing a steady stream of air onto her tea, she looked grim. “Sometimes we have to do dangerous things when we know they are the right things to do.” She raised her eyes to me, and it was like she’d inserted a knife directly into my heart.
Dangerous things—like dragging a young boy across the US-Mexico border while she was pregnant because she wanted a better life for us. I struggled to take my next breath as pain unfurled in my chest. Who the hell was I to be telling Mami what to do? She’d given us everything we had. All the fight drained out of me, and I collapsed against the wall.
“She is going with your friend?”
Friend. Classmate. Study buddy. I wasn’t sure what we were anymore. I nodded. “From school. Derek Lam. He’s a good guy. He’s part of the LGBTQ club. They go to these things all the time.”
Mami raised an eyebrow as if she read my thoughts. “You trust him?”
I didn’t always agree with Derek, thought he was a little extra sometimes. But yes, I trusted him enough to share our family secrets with him, enough to know he’d do everything in his power to keep Aless safe. I nodded.
Mami smiled and patted me on the arm as she passed me on the way out of the kitchen. “It is late. Go to bed. Don’t worry so much.”
Easier said than done.
I was scrolling through social media on my couch when my phone buzzed and Diego’s name flashed on the screen. I wasn’t sure I wanted to pick up after our fight the night before, after he stormed out on me—again. Avoiding him felt childish, though. I tapped the accept button. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Pause. “It’s me.”
I rolled my eyes. But it sounded like it’d been hard for him to pick up the phone, so I dialed back the full dose of sass that had been on the tip of my tongue. “Yeah, I know.”
He didn’t respond right away, the way he did when crafting one of his brilliant legal arguments. I braced myself for some iron clad reasoning about why he’d never let Aless do something as irresponsible as going to a protest with me.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday.”
That wasn’t what I was expecting.
“You know, for being an asshole.”
Air rushed out of my lungs and the weird tension strung through my muscles all day magically eased. We’d only just met, and yeah, we’d hooked up, but that didn’t mean we were anything. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted us to be something until right then. Some pair we were, constantly pissing each other off and then having to apologize. “I guess we’re even then.”
A chuckle floated over the line, accompanied with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
“Can we have make up sex this time too?” The words slipped out before my brain could stop them. I dropped my head into my free hand. I couldn’t have been more of a dork if I tried.
On the other end of the call, Diego’s laugh sounded full and loud. I’d never heard him like that before, carefree and light and
joyful. And from something I said. If I could get him to laugh that way, I’d say every dorky thing my tongue could conjure up.
“Sure, I’d love to,” Diego said after the laughter finally died down.
I warmed at the lowered tone of his voice. “Good.”
“That’s, uh, not the only reason I called.”
So much for making up. This part of the conversation didn’t seem as promising as the first half. “Oh?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the protest next week.”
Here we go. “Uh huh.”
“I wanted to tell you that it’s okay if Aless goes with you.”
I itched to point out the misogyny in the idea of Diego allowing Aless to do anything, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate that and I didn’t want to upset our newly minted reconciliation. “Okay.”
“I still don’t like it, but you were right. If she’s going to do something crazy like that, it might as well be with you rather than behind our backs.”
“Something crazy…” I curled my fingers into a fist. I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but it still rankled. “Right…”
“Shit. I don’t mean crazy like you’re crazy. It’s—” He huffed a sigh. “You know what I mean.”
Sure, the whole could-get-deported thing wasn’t something he could ignore. I wasn’t so stubborn that I couldn’t see his point. But I hated the way he spoke about it. “I do know what you mean, but Diego, it’s not crazy to fight for something I believe in.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. I’m sorry. Listen, just, look after her will you?” He sounded sincere—and afraid. It all clicked into place. All of Diego’s bravado and his staunch opposition to getting involved were grounded in a very real and justified fear.
My heart broke for him and for all the people who were in his position. I couldn’t fix anything, but I could do this one thing for him. “I will. I promise.”
6
“Mijo, slow down.” It was the third time Mami had said this, and I forced myself to ease off the gas pedal. “Relax. What’s wrong with you?”
What was wrong was the goddamn protest and the fact that Aless was currently down there with Derek and his friends. My phone had been pinging all morning with updates from them, but the steady stream of messages gave me only a modicum of comfort. I’d agreed to let her go, but I didn’t have to like it.
“How can you be so calm?” My knuckles were pale where I gripped the steering wheel.
“Calm? Of course I’m calm. What is there to be nervous about? Except your driving.”
I snuck a quick glance over and sure enough, Mami had a death grip on the door handle. I took a deep breath and took my foot off the pedal altogether, letting the car slow. “They’re at the protest right now.”
“And you’re worried, I know. You worry too much. It’s my fault.” Mami lifted a hand and let it drop onto her thigh. “I put too much responsibility on you when you were so young. You grew up too fast.”
“What? No, that’s got nothing to do with it.” Though some small part of me did recognize the truth behind her words. My life had never felt like my own. I had to work hard to help Mami, to protect Aless; my own needs were always secondary.
She sighed. “You’re a good son, and good brother. Aless is headstrong and passionate because you have always been reliable and supportive.”
“So you’re saying I brought this on myself?” I knew that wasn’t what she meant, but sentimentalism was making my throat tight and my eyes sting.
Mami slapped me on the arm.
“Ow…”
“I raised both of you to be principled, strong, hard workers, but you do it differently. You want to be a lawyer, be successful, provide for your family. Aless wants to fight for change, speak out for what she believes. Both are good! We came to this country so you could both do these things.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No, I am not done.” Mami raised her hand, fingers straight as if she was going to slap me again.
I shut my mouth.
“You are worried, yes. I am worried too. I am worried every single day when I leave in the morning, because maybe the police will catch me and I will not come home. Or maybe you will not come home. What will happen if they send you back to Mexico? What will you do? Or what if Aless is alone here? Every night, I pray to God to protect us and keep us together in this country. If Aless wants to fight for us, I will not stop her.”
They were the same worries that echoed in my heart. But to hear Mami say them with a voice that shook with emotion was too much. I blinked back tears. Mami sniffled too, and then fell silent.
That’s when I heard it: the wailing of sirens, the sound of my nightmares. My eyes flew to the rearview mirror, and my worst fears were confirmed. Flashing lights almost obscured the black-and-white police cruiser. Mami gasped. My heart rate shot through the roof while icy fingers of terror tracked across my skin. “Fuck.”
My foot was like a brick as I moved it to the brake and pulled the car over. I’d never been pulled over before; I’d always been so careful. How could I have let myself lose control?
“Mijo?”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I reached for Mami’s hand and gave it a squeeze; she squeezed back hard.
The officer tapped on my window. I rolled it down, almost afraid to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I registered the police cap pulled low, sunglasses obscuring most of his face, and of course, the ever-present gun in his holster.
“License and registration, please.”
“Yes, sir. It’s, uh, in my backpack, in the backseat.” I pointed with my thumb. Fuck—why didn’t I keep the damn documents on my dash somewhere?
“All right.” He took a step back, hands empty and loose by his sides as if readying himself for a confrontation.
I twisted in my seat and made eye contact with Mami, her eyes wide with fear. I gave her a small nod, hoping it looked confident, though my hands shook as I grabbed my bag from behind her seat and pulled the whole thing into my lap.
Keeping my movements slow, I unzipped the smaller front pocket, pulling it wide open so the officer could see there was nothing dangerous in there: just pens, some random receipts, and my old, battered wallet that I’d gotten in high school.
“Do you know why I pulled you over today?” The officer asked as he took my documents.
I hated that question, spoken in that tone, as if he were somehow better than me because he wore a uniform. “I think I might have been driving too fast, sir?”
He looked up from his examination of my driver’s license. “One of your brake lights is out.”
Impossible. My car was my baby. I worked at a fucking garage. I would’ve known and fixed my brake light if it was broken. “Oh.”
“Hang tight. I’ll be right back.” The officer turned on his heel and took my documents back to his cruiser.
All my cold of fear ignited into a blaze of anger that threatened to consume me whole.
“Mijo?” Mami grasped my arm.
“That fucking jackass. Like hell my brake light is out. He’s using it as an excuse to pull me over because I’m Latino.” I spat out the words between teeth clenched so tight my jaw started to ache.
“Calm down. It doesn’t matter why he stopped you, okay? Just cooperate, don’t show him you’re angry.”
She was right, of course, but that didn’t cool the rage roaring inside me. I wasn’t new to racism by any means, but with the conversation we’d been having and my phone still buzzing with messages from Aless, I had no more reserves to deal with this kind of shit.
“He’s coming back.” Mami squeezed my arm with an urgency that pulled me into focus, and then she folded her hands in her lap.
The officer had taken off his hat and his sunglasses, revealing sun-kissed blonde hair and startling blue eyes. He didn’t look like he could be much older than I was. He frowned at me. “You’re a DACA recipient?”
Fuck. I’d forgotten they could look u
p my entire life with a quick swipe of my license through their computer. “Yes, sir.” Nausea really didn’t mix well with anger.
“And where are you headed today?”
“I was running errands with my mom. We’re heading home.” My voice shook despite my best attempt to keep it steady.
He bent over and peered past me at Mami. Shit—I shouldn’t have drawn his attention to her.
“Is this your mom?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mami smiled and nodded at him, but the frown on his face didn’t budge as he examined her. What the hell was going through his head? Was he going to ask Mami for her papers too? What the fuck could I say to distract him? He flitted his eyes to me for a second and then back to Mami. It couldn’t be that difficult to piece together, could it? The mother of a child who was undocumented was most likely undocumented too.
“Your file says you go to UCLA.” He straightened a bit and glanced down at my documents that he held in his hand. It seemed like he’d moved on from Mami, but what the hell did school have to do with anything?
“Yes, sir. The law school.”
He nodded then held out my papers to me. “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time. Get that light fixed right away. Don’t give us a reason to pull you over again.”
I stared at him, slack-jawed. Did I hear him right? I couldn’t have been that lucky. I probably stared a little too long, because he smiled and shoved my papers toward me. “Good luck with school.”
“Yeah, uh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” I grabbed my license and registration and watched him walk back to the cruiser through my side mirror.
He didn’t turn around, didn’t glance back, just got into his car and drove away like the whole encounter was no big deal, like my life hadn’t flashed before my eyes.
“Mijo.” Mami was crying, and she pulled me into an awkward hug with our seatbelts still on. She kissed my cheek and brushed my hair back. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” My words, repeated back to me.
Rogue Nights Page 19
