Historically Inaccurate

by Shay Bravo

  Michi runs off in the middle of our pillow fight.

  Laughing and screaming, we chase each other into the living room as my dad enters through the main door.

  “Hola, papi.” I push my hair back, kiss his cheek, and try to catch my breath. “Carlos is hanging out for the rest of the day and Diane might come over. We have pizza in the oven and leftover wings from yesterday. Do you want anything else?”

  “I’m not hungry right now, mija. Thank you, though.”

  He turns to Carlos who is still standing with a pillow by his side. “Hey, Carlos.” Dad shakes Carlos’s hand, a smile on his face. “Nice to see you, it’s been a while.”

  “Gracias, Mr. Gutierrez. I’m always glad when Sol invites me to come here, feels like my home.”

  “You know this is your home too.” He turns to me. “I’m going to call your mom and have a beer on the balcony. Don’t make too much noise, though, or the neighbors will get mad.”

  Mom and Dad can be on the phone for hours. Sometimes when he gets home from work he has already been on the phone with her during the car ride. I like to think that’s true love. He walks off to the kitchen, then opens the fridge to grab a beer. Carlos and I look at each other.

  “Fight until the oven tells us to stop and we settle down to watch a movie?” he says.

  “Sounds good.” I swat him with my pillow before he can even get in a fighting position.

  Diane ends up being busy for the night but promises to have us over the next time we want to watch something. Carlos and I are halfway through watching The Devil Wears Prada and nearly done with our pizza when I put the movie on pause and turn to him.

  “Did you tell Anna about me and Ethan?”

  “No.”

  “Someone told her.” I take a bite out of my slice. “It doesn’t bother me, I just find it weird.”

  “Well, she does know everything.”

  “Isn’t that strange?”

  “A little bit, but who knows? Maybe it was Ethan who told her. Anna doesn’t have superpowers, information always comes from a specific source. You heard what Ophelia said earlier.”

  I grab my phone. “I’ll be right back.”

  Michi meows as she follows me into the bathroom, as all cats are legally bound to do, and I wait for her to get inside before closing the door. I put the toilet lid down and sit as I dial Ethan’s number. It rings two times before he picks up.

  “Hey, sunshine, what’s up?” His voice sounds deeper over the phone, and this is new information that I did not know I would find so attractive.

  “Quick question. Did you tell Anna about us?”

  “Actually, funny story. She came into the store earlier today with her boyfriend and mentioned you while they were checking out. Did you go to the meeting? A lake house, it sounds . . . interesting.”

  “Yeah, I think it’ll be fun. Another thing. She said she gave you the key which is great, I only found it odd that you didn’t tell me.” Michi puts her front paws on my leg, demanding pets.

  “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about that.” He sounds genuinely surprised. “That night when they dropped me off at my place Anna gave me the key. It just dawned on me right now that I never told you about it.”

  “Don’t be sorry, it’s not something bad.”

  “It’s kind of important, though.”

  “Is it? I’m guessing you can’t get out of the club since you’re in it already.”

  He laughs. “That’s true.”

  “I’m not mad. It’s strange how the club works things out. Not just Anna, she’s another member like us and had to go through the process too. I sometimes wonder if she’s as frustrated as we are and simply can’t say anything . . . I don’t know.”

  The way Anna appears to be confident about how things will work out makes me wonder what her process was. She must have had to make some hard decisions herself, and worked hard for her position.

  Ethan stays silent for a moment. “Sol, are you happy in the club?”

  “I’m not not happy. I like the people, it’s . . . messy. I wish things weren’t the way they are.”

  It still doesn’t sit well with me, the things that we did. Even if they aren’t outlandishly illegal, they still made me feel guilty. I haven’t lied to my parents about the club, but I’ve kept things from them, and I’ve done things now that could possibly jeopardize my relationship with them. “But there’s no going back, is there? If I had known then what I know now, maybe we’d both be in better spots.”

  “What if . . . no, forget it.”

  “What?”

  Ethan sighs. “Nothing. Sometimes I wish things had gone differently, too, but I know you because of all of this madness, and I wouldn’t have it otherwise.”

  “Me too. I don’t want to sound like I was freaking out because you didn’t tell me about the key, I really value communication.” It was the way Anna had commented that she was surprised he hadn’t told me that made me feel insecure. It’s not her fault either—after all, she did say she was rooting for us.

  “You’re okay. I should’ve told you, that was my mistake. You want to grab some burgers tomorrow to make up for it? My treat.”

  “You’re learning the way to my heart is through food. That’s dangerous.”

  “Hey, the same can be said for me. We’re okay?”

  “We’re okay, we always were.” I get up. “Now I should get back, I was watching movies and eating pizza with Carlos.”

  “Awesome, you guys have fun. I just got off work—I need a shower and then I’m crashing, but I’ll see you tomorrow, right? I can pick you up.”

  “That works perfectly for me.”

  It’s good to get that off my chest, even though I knew nothing was probably wrong. The fact that Ethan was so open and honest with me is a fresh breath of air when it comes to history club shenanigans. With that out of my mind, I am able to put my phone back in my pocket, pick up my cat like she is a baby, and saunter back into the living room, ready to bask in early 2000s nostalgia.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  On Thursday morning I finally tell Mom about me and Ethan. Yes, I skimmed over a lot of important details like how we met, but that didn’t matter anymore because she was very interested in my love life at the moment, and I hadn’t been able to give her love drama like any other teenager would.

  “He’s nice?” Mom says.

  I smile, pouring milk over my cereal. “He is. We had a picnic the other day.”

  I haven’t spoken to her regularly in a while, and that was gnawing at me. It’s like the club is taking over my life little by little when I should be concentrating on the important things in life, like school and my family.

  “How come I haven’t heard about him before?”

  I pause. “We met at school but I didn’t want to talk about it because it would sound like it might take away from my education.”

  “Sol, you’re eighteen nearing nineteen and you’ve had boyfriends before. I know you’re a good student, I know the daughter I raised.” She gives me this meaningful look that makes my stomach knot. “I’m happy for you. Maybe one day I’ll get to meet Ethan.”

  “You might have already. He’s the Winstons’ grandson.”

  “Oh right, the ones in the old house. They were really nice.”

  “It’s one of the oldest houses in town, they even got an award for it. I think it was built in the late nineteenth century.” Most of the information I know was provided by Anna, but I can be well assured that if I liked a boy he’d tell me these sorts of things on his own, and Mom wouldn’t be the wiser.

  “Wow, where did you learn all that?”

  “Ethan.” I am so getting coal for Christmas.

  “I think I do remember him. I’m pretty sure I invited his grandparents for one of your birthday parties and they brought him ov
er. His parents were getting divorced or something.”

  I wonder if we ever met each other before, then. If by any chance Ethan hit my piñata, or we ever hung out with some of the neighborhood kids. He is older than me, so I know we wouldn’t have met in school, but now that Mom has mentioned him, I’ve noticed I can’t place him in my memory. Only his grandparents stand out when I think of my childhood.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t have the greatest relationship with his parents. Like I said, he lives with his grandparents now.”

  “A family doesn’t always have to be a mom, dad, and a son, sometimes it’s a single parent and a child, or grandparents and a grandchild, or even a couple with no kids. Sometimes it’s better when the parents are apart.”

  “Not us. We were better together.”

  “That’s true, but we’ll work through it. How are your classes? You’re taking midterms, right?”

  “I have one later today, which I should be studying for, and another one tomorrow. Then I’ll be done. Oh, I’m going to a lake house at the end of spring break with the history club.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun.” She glances at a point above her camera, the sign that she has to leave soon.

  “It won’t keep me from making good grades.” When I was younger we would have a family meeting when I got a grade lower than an A to talk about why my grades had dropped and what we could do as a family to raise them.

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t strain yourself too much, okay?” She straightens up, messing with her hair like I oftentimes do, to try to make it look presentable for class. Her hair is as dark as mine, but unlike me, Mom got blessed with straight, sleek hair that doesn’t fight her when she decides to do anything with it.

  “I won’t if you don’t.”

  She points at me. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother.”

  It’s a joke, because everyone in our family is a workaholic.

  “I love you, Mom.” I wave good-bye.

  “Love you too, corazón, good luck on your test.” She reaches over and the next second the frame freezes before showing her information. It’s a bit strange but I’m beginning to get used to this form of communication with her. The morning calls, the messages, Skype calls at dinner time with her and Dad—they all feel somewhat normal now, and I don’t entirely like that.

  I get that math is important and we wouldn’t have gotten to do many things as a human race without nerdy kids throwing numbers around. However, if someone announced we’ve done all the math we need to do as a society, I’d drink to that.

  The student sitting two seats away from me lets his head fall on the paper with a loud thud.

  I feel that.

  Thirty minutes later I force myself to get up from my seat and turn the test in. My professor looks like he feels terribly sorry for the pain he’s causing us. Stepping out of the room is like a breath of fresh air.

  I take my phone out of my backpack and turn it back on to check on what I missed while I was taking the exam.

  Ethan: Hey beautiful, do you want to come over to my house for dinner later?

  My heart beats slower.

  Me: For sure I would love that

  Me: I don’t have to dress up fancy or anything do I? lol

  Feeling a bit like an idiot after sending the second message, I shove my phone in my back pocket. I exit the mathematics and physics building.

  “Hey, Sol!”

  I don’t recognize Angela until she’s right in front of me; in fact, her cute military-green backpack covered in pins catches my attention before I realize who she is.

  “What’s up?” We walk together since staying still on a busy college path is a great idea only if you want to get shoved out of the way.

  “Nothing much, walking to my next midterm.”

  “Oh no, you have more than one today?”

  She grimaces. “Yep, and they are my least favorite classes.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Are you going to the club getaway?”

  “Yes, it’ll be fun after all this bull. Are you?”

  “Yeah. The club is kind of crazy, but I’m sure the lake trip will be like the initiation party.” Her light-brown hair falls a bit past her shoulders in pretty, beachy waves. The fact that we are in the middle of midterm season shows true commitment on the part of those actually styling their hair in the morning. I have nothing but respect for her now.

  “For sure. I didn’t think I’d end up in a club like that, but it’s changed my life,” I say, a tad surprised at how truthful that is. The club is a part of my daily life, no matter what. Whether I’m spending time with Ethan or hanging out with Carlos, if I’m having a conversation with Diane, or if I’m home working on homework, the club always looms in the back of my mind.

  Angela nods. “I kind of feel the same.” Then, a bit lower. “I sometimes feel though that things would be better if it wasn’t a thing, though.”

  “How so?”

  She makes a face. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I pretty much desecrated a grave. It scared the crap out of me. There’s a high possibility if any of this blew up, I wouldn’t go to jail but I could be fined and put on probation.”

  We round the corner outside the building, following the path to the main square. The sky is clear and birds are singing; it’d be a nice day to have a picnic if it wasn’t for the ever-present stress of the college students around us running to the next midterm that could make or break their semester.

  “I mean, I get it. I feel like I went against myself doing what I did,” I reply. At least she understands the consequences; I feel like I followed everything blindly until it was too late.

  “Exactly! It’s like I betrayed myself doing what I did.” She sighs. “I don’t even feel like it’s worth it.”

  “Tell me about it, I tell myself the same thing every day.” I doubt there’s a single day since my dare that I have not questioned my place in the club.

  “Right? I wish it was all gone sometimes, but hey, at the very least they’re giving us a place to stay during spring break. Well, I gotta turn here, but I’ll see you next weekend.” Angela gives me a smile, holding on to the straps of her backpack as she walks away with a tilt of her head.

  “All right. Good luck on your test!” I call.

  As I look around to figure out exactly where on campus I am, I remember I left my bike chained up outside the math building.

  “Crap.”

  Ethan is trying not to smile while driving. The AC in his car is on full blast as I sit back and try not to sweat my butt off. Turns out wearing a long-sleeved sweater on a day that goes up to eighty degrees is no fun, to the surprise of no one. I didn’t expect it to get so hot in the first place, but I should have known my cute outfit would eventually backstab me when I’m trying to meet my new partner’s family.

  “You forgot your bike and had to walk all the way back.” Ethan laughs.

  “It wasn’t the first time nor will it be the last time I do that.” It was worse when I first started biking to school. I would get out of class and walk to the parking lot all the way across campus and then remember I didn’t have a car anymore. That’s truly how my leg muscles started developing.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Appreciate me for who I am.” We come to a halt in the driveway of his house.

  “I do that already.” Ethan runs the back of his fingers against my cheek. “I appreciate the hell out of how weird you are.”

  “First of all, that’s an insult. Second, it’s not that weird to forget things.” Or perhaps it’s a thing only me and Dad do, without Mom to remind us of things we always misplace or when we forget the simplest things. His lunch, for example, or the keys inside the house, or reminding me that I have homework and only realize that three hours before it’s due.

  “Fine,
quirky.”

  I scrunch up my nose. “Nah, I don’t have enough Instagram followers to be quirky.”

  He laughs. “Okay, then we’re back to you being weird.”

  “Fine. Your grandparents are having dinner with us, right?” I get out of the car and grab the bag of pastries I got on the way back home.

  “Yes. Are you nervous?”

  “No! I feel weird because the last time I was here I . . .” Slowly, I rotate my hands toward him, aware that he knows what I’m getting at.

  “Broke into their house? I didn’t tell them anything about that.”

  “Really?”

  “I told them I was changing the locks because it is a good idea to change them every couple of years.” That’s a relief. Doesn’t make me feel much better, but he takes my hand as we walk to the main door nonetheless, and the warmth of his fingers against mine brings me some comfort.

  Life is good.

  As soon as we enter, the smell of comfort food is nearly overwhelming. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten used to eating out or cooking myself, but I haven’t had a good homemade meal in a while.

  “Mima, I’m home.” Ethan takes off his jean jacket and drapes it over the armchair where their cat, Muffin, is sleeping. Of course, I instantly go over and pet it. The cat purrs, pressing its head against my arm. I don’t even know anything aside from its name, but I would die for it.

  “Hey, baby.” Mrs. Winston comes out of the small dining room, wiping her hands with a rag she’s carrying. She is about a head shorter than me, which makes the difference in height compared to Ethan as she walks next to him adorable. Her glasses are thick and the wrinkles on her face make her smile warm my heart as she moves toward me. “Is that who I think it is?”

  I step toward her and offer my hand.

  “Hi, Mrs. Winston, it’s been a while.”

  “Stop that. Come here, baby girl.” She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me as hard as I think she possibly can. Her limbs are shaky and she appears frail, but I can feel the pure happiness she carries. “I haven’t seen you in so long! How have you been?”