Historically Inaccurate

by Shay Bravo

She turns away from me and looks toward the stairs. “Samuel!”

  “I’ve been good, life has been . . . interesting, but here I am.”

  “I heard about your mom, I’m so sorry. Here, take a seat.” She takes my arm and leads me to their small dining-room table, where I can drop the bag of pastries and sit down. It’s so strange, being here again.

  “What was that?” Mr. Winston rounds the corner of the dining room as Mrs. Winston sits next to me. He is a bit closer to Ethan’s height compared to his wife, but he walks with a bit of a hunch, though is not slow as he walks toward us. There is a hearing aid in his left ear, which he turns toward Mrs. Winston.

  “It’s Soledad, remember? Margarita and Emanuel’s daughter.”

  Mr. Winston squints, then takes his glasses out of his breast pocket and puts them on. He has been doing that since I was little.

  “No, I don’t remember her.”

  My smile falters.

  “I’m joking. Of course I remember you, kiddo.”

  That makes my night. He, too, gives me a hug. When I offer to help Mrs. Winston, she shushes me and tells me not to worry about it.

  She made meat loaf with this drizzle sauce that is still steaming hot when she puts the plate in front of me, as well as mac and cheese, steamed veggies, and fluffy golden mashed potatoes. In the center of the table, there is a pitcher of gravy, as well as biscuits covered in melted butter. I almost feel like crying.

  “How are you, honey? How’s your dad?” Mrs. Winston asks.

  “He’s good, working hard as usual.”

  She nods. Mr. Winston laughs and sounds so much like Ethan it’s almost scary.

  “Your dad worked sixty hours a week and acted like it was nothing.” He drizzles more gravy on his food.

  “Yup, that’s Dad.”

  “How’s your mom?”

  “She’s good, still teaching English.” I gather a bit of mashed potatoes with a piece of meat loaf. “She misses us and we miss her, but there’s nothing we can do at the moment.”

  “It is such a shame,” Mrs. Winston mumbles. “Must be so hard on you too.”

  “With the system right now nothing can get done,” grumbles her husband.

  “Not until I’m twenty-one.” I take a sip of my water. “Well, a real case can’t get started until I’m twenty-one, and then I have to wait six more years since she is in a ten-year ban. All the lawyers my dad and I have spoken to have told us to wait.”

  “But she had no criminal record, she’s the sweetest lady—” Mrs. Winston says.

  Mr. Winston interrupts her. “All immigrants are criminals to the government right now.”

  I couldn’t agree more, but if I speak my voice might break.

  I can feel the weight of Ethan’s gaze on me. He’s never asked why Mom works in Mexico, or about my living situation. It didn’t occur to me that he might not put two and two together, or maybe he was waiting for me to tell him.

  “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?”

  We’re sitting on the ledge of his window, the same one I jumped from. The slant on the roof seems a bit more dangerous now than it did then. After dinner and dessert, the elder Winstons settled down to watch TV while Ethan and I went upstairs to his room.

  The walls are painted gray and the accents around his room are white. He keeps things neat and tidy, more so even than I do. A small fish bowl rests on his desk, where a little betta fish swims around. His desk is scattered with papers and his laptop is placed in the center. A large, dark map of the world hangs over top of his bed, and a couple of pictures are scattered across his nightstand.

  “I’m fine, lost in thought.”

  “That’s a scary thing.”

  I scoff. “Why?”

  “Because you’re usually a chatterbox and it’s honestly terrifying when you’re silent.”

  “You should feel very terrified, yes.” I hope he can hear the sarcasm in my voice, though it is hard after being lost in my own thoughts for a while.

  “You’re admitting you didn’t feel okay and then lied to me saying you were fine.”

  “You know what? This conversation is over.”

  He laughs. “You said that that night too.”

  I look at the tree, partially disbelieving I fell from that height. “I was so high on adrenaline, I can’t believe I did it.”

  “You can say that again.” He sighs. “I didn’t know about your mom. I mean, I had a hunch, but I didn’t want to pry.”

  “I should have told you.” My fingers hurt because of how many times I’ve twisted them into knots tonight. “It’s never a good time to bring up that your mom got deported.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me. Now I feel like a dick for the comment I made about your mom probably not making a lot of money.”

  I rest my hands on his knees. “You didn’t know. She’s a teacher, and a struggling one at that, but she’s getting by. We all do that, don’t we?”

  “Get by? We do.” Fingers lightly tap my arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  There is the sound of a car driving nearby, the rustling of the leaves of the oak tree branches as they sway in the breeze and wait for spring to come around to show off its full range of color. In the grand scheme of things, I do want to talk about it, I just don’t know where to start, or even how to do that to begin with.

  “So I was learning how to drive last year, right.” It was a beautiful day, almost too beautiful. Mom woke me up and told me to get the keys because Dad was sending us for groceries so we could make a meal later on at the park. “I was excited since it was the last week of winter break and she had promised to give me driving lessons more often. Anyway, um, we decided to go to the Walmart on Washington Street since it was farther away, and I could practice getting on and off the highway. But as I was driving down the late closest to the entrance, someone, let’s call her Beatriz, decided it was a great day to speed down the highway and not check her mirrors.”

  Ethan’s shoulders tense up. “Jesus.”

  “She took out the entire back side of my car, and the impact was so strong and so fast it sent me and Mom skidding across two lanes of traffic and onto the grass. I lost consciousness after that and woke up with my dad giving me the news that while Mom was talking to me, screaming for someone for help, when the police showed up not only did I not have my instruction permit with me, but my mom had an AB 60 license, and while the police couldn’t do anything to her, he or someone in the truck that hit us, called ICE while I was being checked in an ambulance. Dad goes: ‘Your mom is getting deported and you have a broken arm and bruised ribs.’ It was a great end to my break.”

  “Sol, you don’t have to continue . . .”

  “And it’s—shit fell apart from there, Ethan, I don’t know what to tell you. The past year of my life has been such a haze it might as well have been a blackout. Up until I stumbled into you.”

  He leans into me, a warm palm resting against my cheek.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “I want her back and all the signs point to that not happening until I am ten years older, and even then it seems like a complicated uphill legal battle.”

  “My parents aren’t immigration lawyers, but maybe they know someone who could help,” he offers.

  “It’s okay. Thank you, though. We’ve talked with a couple and they say we’re better to wait for now. Depending where we are in a couple of years, I might take you up on the offer.” I inhale. “Sorry I spewed out a lot of tragic backstory to you. I promise I don’t do that very often unless I really like someone.”

  “That’s okay, though I want to know you better.” He brushes his hand through my hair, the sensation sending tingles through my skin. “You can tell me about your tragic superhero backstory at any moment, Soledad.” />
  I smile. “They say you never truly know a person.”

  “Yeah?” He’s so close to me he barely breathes.

  We’re kissing, slowly, sweetly. Then I push back against him, biting his lip as I twine my arms around his neck. He moves his face away from mine and kisses my neck, the light scruff on his chin bringing different sensations. I move him away, grab the front of his shirt, and bring him to me again so I can kiss his lips, this time more needy.

  The thing is, we’re still sitting on his window ledge. Me being the klutz I am, I try to lean back and forget that there is no support, and for one moment all I see is the starry night over the roof of his house. My stomach drops and I feel the shame of all my ancestors.

  This time I would have died for sure if it hadn’t been for Ethan grabbing me.

  “Holy shit, Sol.”

  “Oh my God, I nearly died,” I manage to get out between laughs.

  “You know who would have had to deal with that? Me.” Ethan presses his hands to his forehead. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep, the universe is a cockblocker.” I get up, adjusting my shirt. “I should go home, I’m not here to disrespect your grandparents.”

  “I wasn’t planning that with them downstairs.” He tousles his hair before pulling me into a hug. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I think it’s an omen that I should go.”

  “Roger that. I’ll take you home.” Ethan touches his forehead to mine. “I’m really glad you came today, and that you met my grandparents even though you technically had already met.”

  “I’m glad you invited me over. I’m sorry for nearly falling out of your window . . . again.”

  “Let’s make tonight the last time.”

  I give him a light peck in the lips. “Sounds good to me.”

  Ethan holds out his hand and I take it immediately. As we walk to the door of his room, I look over my shoulder once more, at the window I jumped out of that first day—at the exit and the entrance to this strange part of my life I hadn’t known would exist.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The light filters through the blinds over the kitchen window. Sunlight makes patterns over the mug of coffee I’ve placed on top of the table but have refused to touch since preparing. It’s the type of quiet morning that I love, where the world seems to be dragging slowly through time, and the little details of life seem to be basked in the golden sun, but I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t so tired.

  “You’re awake already?” Dad yawns as he enters the kitchen.

  I glare at the microwave clock, marking six thirty in the morning.

  “Yes, they told us to be ready by now.” In all honesty, Anna had never told us what time we were leaving for the cabin, or where exactly the lake was.

  I spent all of spring break being lazy and refusing to go out. I stayed home, redecorated my room, helped Dad move stuff around the apartment, and marathoned about five shows online. It was the first time in a long time that I had pure free time for myself and I made sure I used every last second of it to enjoy my solitude. Of course, that meant I stayed up until ungodly hours talking to Ethan on the phone last night.

  So when Anna had called me, and the rest of the members I’m assuming, some time around four in the morning with the news that I had to get ready because Scott was coming to get us around five or six in the morning, I was not prepared.

  Dad snorts. “You didn’t even brush your hair?”

  “Um, no.” I look like I rolled out of bed, and the simple explanation to that is that I did. “I’ll throw it in a bun later.”

  “When do you come back?”

  Big props to my dad for being up this early, all dressed for work, and still having enough energy to worry about his daughter’s school trips.

  “Sunday afternoon.”

  He takes a sip of his coffee, nodding. “Well, be very careful. You got the pepper spray I bought you?”

  “Yep, always carry it with me.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He walks past me to grab the pot of coffee. I managed to make some food last night to use as his lunch today. I made some rice with corn and green peppers, as well as milanesas empanizadas. It’s simple, but it’ll be filling enough for him. I didn’t use to cook as much when Mom was here, and it is a steep learning curve, but Dad has never complained about my food.

  My phone dings as I’m taking a drink out of my cup.

  Carlos: Yo, we’re parked outside your house, come out

  “Bueno, papi, I need to go.” I put down my cup before jumping off the kitchen counter and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Okay, corazón, be careful. Don’t drown in the lake and tell Carlos if anything happens, I’m coming for him.”

  Grabbing my duffel bag, I stop by the chair where Michi is sleeping to plant a kiss on top of her head, which I’m sure she does not appreciate.

  The sky is a hazy purple, and dew is still scattered on top of vehicles and plants. Scott’s soccer-mom van is parked right outside our apartment complex, and I can nearly distinguish the loud ’70s music playing inside of it.

  Sure enough, when Xiu opens the sliding door, “Dancing Queen” is booming inside.

  “Holy shit, Scott, isn’t it a bit early for this?” I pass my bag to Alan, who is hanging out in the back of the van with the rest of the luggage. Xiu and Angela are in the middle seat with a spot left for me, and Carlos is riding shotgun.

  “Sol, it’s never too early for ABBA!” Scott shouts back. “Now, get inside. We’ve got a four-hour drive ahead of us.”

  Thankfully, he lowers the music once I’m buckled in and we’re on the road.

  “What about the other members?”

  “Anna is picking them up,” Carlos says. Like me, he looks like he could use four more espresso shots to be at Scott’s level of enthusiasm this early in the morning.

  While I wish we were in the same vehicle, we’re all going to the same place, so I’m not too worried. Still, I grab my phone to see how he’s doing after being up all night on the phone.

  Me: Morning, our car is full so you’re going to be spending some quality time with the other club members

  He answers almost immediately.

  Ethan: We’re on our way already. Can’t wait to see you

  That brings a smile to my face. Scott is singing along to his songs, and next to me Xiu and Angela are swaying with the sound track as well. I feel like we’ve been transferred to many years in the past where a band of friends could get together and road trip. So I close my eyes and let the sound of the music create cheesy music videos in my mind as we get on our way to the lake house.

  Nature is mind boggling. The way the roads bend into hills, and the hills into mountains. When they’re farther away they’re blue and gray but as you get closer the colors change and so do you. Mountains have always reminded me how small we are.

  They also remind me how scary it is to be in a car with five other people while the driver vibes along to Andy Gibb’s “I Just Want to Be Your Everything,” taking sharp curves up the steep path. I have to give it to Anna. Once we step out of the van and walk through the trees to the main entrance, the size of this place settles in. There are three spots in the garage, with a walkway that is lined by lush green bushes.

  The two-floor house is made of dark wood and has a deep-gray shingled roof. It has double doors made out of the same material the walls are, but with frosted glass and golden details. Four windows along the front wall are also adorned with twisted iron.

  Scott whistles. “This sure as hell costs more than my tuition.”

  “You’re trying to tell me this is someone’s second home?” Angela mumbles as we open the door.

  From the foyer you can see a balcony on the second floor. We quickly stumble upon a living area where one of the walls is completely made ou
t of glass that reveals the deck and lake.

  The living area is furnished with sofas that curve around a circular table and a plasma TV with a Nintendo Switch plugged into it. Underneath the TV, there is a fireplace, and different potted plants decorate the space.

  “Great, you guys are here.” Anna is wearing a white T-shirt and jean shorts covered by the type of robe you’d wear when you murder your rich husband. Her hair is up in a ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her face.

  “Where is here?” Alan asks, and Scott extends his arms to him.

  “One of our nice members lent us their lake house. Amazing, isn’t it? We stopped at the last McDonald’s nearby, so you guys are just in time for breakfast, come on.”

  We follow her into a massive kitchen, complete with an island that can accommodate six people. The kitchen also overlooks the lake, as well as a grilling section made out of stone that contains a fire pit and patio furniture straight out of a garden-decor magazine.

  Around the kitchen island are the other club members, eating McDonald’s biscuit sandwiches out of a large bag placed in the middle.

  Ethan perks up as soon as he sees me, and I can’t help but smile goofily when he gets up to hug me.

  “Hey, stranger. Holy crap this place is so nice,” I say.

  He only needs to widen his eyes while squeezing my hand to let me know he agrees.

  Once everyone finishes breakfast, Anna takes off her murder robe and walks to the center of the kitchen, stopping right in front of the island.

  “As you can tell, our sponsor was very generous by letting us stay here. Please be respectful. There are four rooms and there are ten of us, so on the west side we’ll have the girls. Xiu, Melina, and Angela will be in one room, while Ophelia, Soledad, and I will be in the other. The boys will be in the east wing, Ethan and Carlos in one room and Scott and Alan in the other. Each room has its own TV set, but try to spend time with your fellow members. Also, there are two full bathrooms, but since there are so many of us either figure out a shower schedule or take very quick showers.

  “Fridge is fully stocked thanks to your twenty-dollar donations. As you saw, we’re kind of removed from society, so as far as I know no one delivers all the way up here. We have a boat and three Jet Skis for anyone who knows how to use them. Please don’t injure yourselves, I don’t want to call a helicopter for anyone. You can go hiking, swimming, or play video games all day long, it’s up to you. Have fun.