Call It One-Sided (Call It Romance Book 1)

by Daniela Reyes

  Marco sighed now. He stretched out on his bed, remembering that a few weeks ago he hadn’t even known when he’d be allowed to come back home. He didn’t have access to his normal bank accounts, but he had some of his earnings from working at Melo’s. It wasn’t even close to good money, but it was better than seeing a zero in his checking account. And he still had some leftover cash from the first transfer his dad had made.

  There was a knock at the door. Marco sat up, excepting it to be his dad.

  “Come in,” he said.

  Abby walked in, holding a tray in her hands. She took slow steps to his desk, setting the tray there. There was a plate of orange wedges and a glass of grape juice on the side. That’d been Marco’s favorite snack when he’d been younger. What was she doing giving it to him now?

  “What do you want?”

  Abby smiled, a sad sort of smile, and pointed to the desk chair.

  “May I sit?”

  Marco didn’t want to fight tonight. He wondered if this was her about to tell him he could expect a new baby brother in the summer. Oh god, he hoped it wasn’t.

  “Fine,” he said.

  She sat, smoothing out the one wrinkle on her dress. It amazed him still, to see her so polished, nothing like the nanny that had run around playing with him, rereading him the same bedtime story for months, until he’d wanted to move on to another one.

  “Your grandfather’s going to fly into Glensford sooner than expected,” Abby said. That wasn’t terrible news. It was a welcome update but unexpected. And Marco didn’t like the way Abby was telling him.

  “Why?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “Felipe went to pick him up in Brazil. He wants to spend Christmas and New Years with us.”

  That didn’t answer the question. Marco sat up straighter. Was Abby crying?

  “What is it?” he asked, feeling like a child. “What happened?” Was something wrong with Vovô? Marco grasped the edge of the bed. “Please, tell me.”

  “Your dad hasn’t been feeling too well,” she said. “He went to take some tests, while we were making sure we were both healthy before we started to try for a baby. I told him to go-”

  She choked.

  Marco’s whole body felt paralyzed. This was about his dad.

  “The doctors found some tumors in his throat, small ones, not many. It just, it happened quickly, the tests, the scans. He asked me not to tell you or Lucas, but I can’t keep this to myself. You have a right to know.”

  “Is it cancer?” Marco asked.

  “Stage I,” Abby said. “His odds are good, but I’m still scared. He didn’t want you two to know until he was done with chemo, but he’s been feeling awful.”

  Marco’s head spun. “He’s been in chemotherapy?”

  “Yes,” Abby said. “Just a few rounds so far. Your grandfather went with him the first few times. He went to Brazil to see if there were any treatment options there, anything advanced, but your dad’s in good hands here. I think you grandfather was trying to do something, anything, you know?”

  “He’ll be okay?” Marco asked. He thought of his dad, the person, after Abby, he wasn’t too fond of. He was the sort of person that made getting the flu look like nothing. Felipe Silva didn’t know what a break or a vacation was.

  “We think so,” Abby said. “But the chemo has side effects, and your dad’s been trying to keep them a secret. He doesn’t want the investors or the board to find out. And-” Now she was crying. “It’s breaking my heart.”

  She cried into the back of her arm. “I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I can’t watch your dad keep pretending like this is nothing, like he needs to keep up an act.”

  People like his dad didn’t get cancer. They didn’t. They made donations to research organizations, and held 5ks to help out, but they didn’t get it. No. Felipe couldn’t get cancer. Vovô maybe, because he’d spent almost his whole adult life smoking and ignoring his doctor’s warnings.

  “He should get a second opinion,” Marco said, because that was all he could think of. “Sometimes doctors lie, you know, to get money out of patients. Dad’s one of the richest men any doctor would come across. I bet you that’s it. That’s why Vovô went to Brazil to get more doctors to look at the case, he probably thought the same thing. You can’t trust people that easily.”

  “Marco,” Abby said. She’d stopped crying. Why was she looking at him like that?

  “What? You can’t,” Marco said. “Dad wouldn’t get cancer, not now, not like this. Have you told Lucas? He’d agree with me.” Marco knew his brother would agree with none of this, because it was all crazy. Doctors knew what they were doing. He just didn’t want to believe it.

  He got up.

  Abby tried to reach for him. “Marco, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Then she cried again. “I need him to be okay.”

  Marco pulled away from her. He shook his head. Why was she worried? If his dad died, she’d probably get a nice lump sum. “Why’d you tell me?” he asked. “So I could share in your misery, or because of what I said before? Wasn’t getting me kicked out enough? Now you want me to, what, worry about the man who only sees me as the bad son? Why would I care?” Marco lifted his chin. “Why would I feel anything for someone who constantly reminds me of what a disappointment I am, how I don’t fit into this picture he has for his new family?”

  Abby kept a hand to her mouth. She shook her head.

  “It isn’t like that. I just, I thought you should know.” She breathed in. “Your dad doesn’t see you that way-”

  Enough. Marco ran out of the room. He didn’t need to hear any more of it. He rushed downstairs, picking up a set of car keys before he knew what he was doing. He rushed out the front door, knowing he didn’t have his cell phone.

  He had his wallet. His license was fine. The person who had punished him after the accident had been his dad. Marco wasn’t allowed to drive anywhere himself, not until his dad decreed the ban lifted.

  He could hear Abby running out of his room. Marco got in her car, because those were the keys he’d taken. He locked the doors, and backed out of the driveway. Then he sped right out of the neighborhood, the feeling of the steering wheel under his hands finally giving him a sense of control again.

  He didn’t know where he was going, only that he’d keep driving until this made sense.

  He pressed down on the accelerator without thinking twice.

  _________

  Marco woke up to a heavy feeling on his left temple. He opened his eyes.

  A bright line shone over his head. The air smelled like hand sanitizer. He covered his nose. The movement sent a wave of pain traveling through his body. He sat up; more pain. There was a cast on his hand.

  “Ah,” he said. That was when he heard a beep, rising and falling, faster now. He turned and saw the heart rate monitor. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on the red and green line.

  “You’re awake,” someone said. “Oh, thank god.”

  Marco turned to his other side. Elena sat on a chair beside him, her whole face red and blotchy, her eyes wide. She stood, and looked ready to reach out for him, but stopped.

  “Where does it hurt? Are you okay? How’s your head?” A tear slid down her cheek.

  Marco looked around the hospital room. It was small, but private. He had a needle sticking out his right hand, hooked up to some bag of clear liquid.

  “Why am I here?” His senses took over now. He could feel pain everywhere, in his head, in his arms, his back.

  “You don’t remember?”

  Marco tried to stretch back, but there was more pain. He didn’t remember anything. He’d driven out to the highway, full speed, thinking about… His dad had cancer. He’d taken Abby’s car without a plan. He’d kept driving.

  “No,” he said. “I remember you, obviously, but nothing else.”

  Elena’s hands were shaking. She tried to hide them in her lap, but Marco still saw them. “You crashed,” Elena said.

&nbs
p; Marco became aware of everything. “Did I hurt someone? What happened?”

  “A guy rear ended you,” Elena said. “It was in San Mateo. Someone saw you and got help. The guy stayed until the ambulance arrived. You mostly hit your head and sprained your wrist, and they want to keep you overnight. It could’ve been worse, a lot worse.”

  Elena’s whole body was shaking now. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” That was definitely crying. “You were sitting at a red light and that idiot just bumped into you-”

  She pressed her head down against the edge of the bed. Marco tried remembering something. He’d gone to the historic district to go to Bee’s, but then he’d remembered Elena was staying with Will. He’d gotten stuck on a red light waiting to turn back in the direction of where Will lived.

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice groggy. Why was she crying this much? He could hear her now and Marco didn’t want to deal with this.

  “Lucas called me,” Elena said. “He said you were in the hospital because of a car accident.” She breathed in, sobbing now. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be making a scene. I thought something worse had happened.”

  Marco fought the urge to reach out and wipe her tears. He didn’t need to complicate this more. They weren’t really dating and they’d agreed that kiss had been a one-time thing. In less than three months, he and Elena would go their separate ways.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Lucas shouldn’t have worried you. You should go home. You have school tomorrow.”

  Elena shook her head. “It’s already tomorrow,” she said. “I already called in an absence.” Weren’t parents supposed to do that? He didn’t ask. Now he was annoyed. He didn’t want Elena here, seeing him like this.

  “You should go home,” Marco said. “Is Lucas here?”

  “He’s getting some coffee with Will. Abby’s out in the waiting area. She said it was better if I stayed here.”

  That annoyed him even more. “Abby doesn’t get to make that decision,” Marco said. “I’m fine. Like I said, I’m sorry Lucas worried you. You should go home and rest.”

  Elena was looking at Marco like he’d told her the world was about to end. She stood, swallowing down a cry.

  “I can call Cecilia,” she said. “Lucas didn’t want more people coming over until you were awake. But I have my phone. Do you have her number?”

  Marco didn’t want Cecilia to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone here.

  “No,” he said. “It’s okay. Just go home and tell Lucas to come in here, please. If you see Abby, tell her she can go home too. This room’s too small for three.”

  Elena wiped her cheek. She paused, and reached out this time. It came without warning. She hugged Marco.

  He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, not hugging her back. That was enough for her to pull away.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Elena said. She looked ready to say something else, but then she walked to the door and left him there.

  Marco wondered how terrible his luck was that on the one night he drove again, after a year, a stranger rear ended him. How did that even give you a bruised rib? He’d been fine after his other accident, and that had probably been worse.

  The door opened.

  He half-expected to see Elena again. It was Lucas. Marco looked at his brother, stoic most days, looking now like he hadn’t slept in a century.

  “Why did Elena leave so fast?” Lucas asked. “Will said she’d asked him to go to school without her, that she wanted to spend the day here.”

  “I told her to go,” Marco said. “There’s no point in her being here. I’m fine.”

  “She was worried sick.”

  “Because you called her and worried her over nothing.”

  Lucas shook his head. “I was on my way to the hospital when I called her. I thought she might be able to get here first. I wouldn’t have called her at all, not after what Will told me.” He paused. “Why did you tell her to go?”

  “Because I don’t want her here. Didn’t you see how she overreacted?” Marco said. Because I don’t want to see her cry again, was what he thought.

  Lucas sighed. He set his coffee down on a small table. “Did Elena ever tell you how her mom died?”

  Marco returned the sigh. “What does that have to do with any of this?”

  “Car accident,” Lucas said. “A driver missed a red light and sped right through into her car. Christmas Day too.”

  Marco said nothing.

  “She wasn’t overreacting, Marco, or maybe she was. But she thought the same thing had happened to you. Will said Elena was trying to call the hospital on the car ride over. She was a mess.”

  Guilt hit Marco in a wave, pushing all other thoughts from his mind.

  He pushed the guilt down, because, okay, he got that Elena had been worried, but they weren’t in a relationship. He hadn’t asked her to come there or to freak out the way she had. He didn’t have time to feel guilty about this.

  “Did you know about Dad?” Marco asked.

  “Did I know what?”

  “Nothing,” Marco said. “Never mind. Does he know about this?”

  “Abby signed everything as your guardian,” Lucas said. “Dad will be back in a few days, you can tell him yourself then. It’s not like it was your fault, but he’ll be mad you were driving.” He paused. “Should I ask Elena to come back?”

  “No,” Marco said. “She should get some sleep. I’ll be out of here later today. Can you get some pain killers for me or something to stick into my IV.”

  “They already gave you some medication,” Lucas said. “I would rest for now.”

  Marco nodded. He lay back, his eyelids suddenly heavy.

  Sleep didn’t sound like the worst idea in the world.

  Chapter 21

  Two days passed by, and soon it was Friday again, and Elena got used to her new routine.

  She went to school, worked a two-hour shift at Melo’s on some afternoons, stayed up doing homework and then went to bed. The only thing that reminded her time was passing by were the Christmas decorations lining all of the store fronts in San Mateo.

  Will tried at first to get her to talk about what was going on, but eventually he stopped. He’d been spending more time with Cecilia, mostly away from his studio. Elena wasn’t sure if he was trying to give her space or if enjoyed spending time with Cecilia. Elena hoped it was the former, but guessed it was the latter.

  She’d texted Marco, asking if he was okay. He’d texted her back a thumbs up. She’d asked Lucas how he was, and he’d told her Marco had been discharged Monday night. Elena hadn’t tried contacting either Silva brother since then. She couldn’t avoid the one she was fake dating today, though.

  Tonight they had a double date with Will and Cecilia. It was the sole reason Elena was now standing in front of Bee’s Books. She didn’t have anything to wear. She was surprised they were still going, seeing as she’d heard nothing from Marco about it.

  “Why don’t you send Marco a text?” Will had asked her during lunch.

  Elena wanted to, but she figured Marco would probably ask her to not to text him. He didn’t know why she’d broken down at the hospital. How could he? She’d never told him about her mom’s accident, about how she couldn’t drive because of it. The driving part wasn’t so much her choice, but her dad’s. He’d never wanted her to get her license, not when Will was there to drive.

  Andres was sitting behind the counter when Elena walked in. He was speaking with a customer, smiling as he pointed to a passage in a book. Elena paused. For a moment, the briefest of them, she thought it was Mia.

  Ms. Ortega turned.

  “Elena,” she said. “How are you?” She smiled and pointed at Andres and the book he held. “Your dad was giving me recommendations for Mia’s birthday present. I know she loves to read, but not so much what.”

  Andres nodded. He set the book down on the counter. “I remember Mia liked anything with a touch of romance. I thought a poetry collection m
ight be nice.”

  Elena tried to smile, but seeing Ms. Ortega, and talking about Mia so casually after her last encounter with her, it didn’t feel normal.

  “I’m sure she will,” Elena lied. Mia didn’t like poetry, well, only that sort that rhymed. And Elena knew the poetry book her dad had on the counter was free verse. She really did have Bee’s inventory in her mind. “I came by to pick up a few things.” There was no getting around it. She needed clothes.

  Ms. Ortega cleared her throat. “Are you staying at William’s?” she asked.

  “For a few days,” Elena said. She remembered then Ms. Ortega probably hated Will, especially if she was calling him William again. “It was nice seeing you.” The sooner she cut off any questions about Will, or her current living situation, the better.

  Elena rushed up the stairs, panting by the time she stepped into the apartment. She’d been gone a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. The whole place looked different now, the same decorations and layout, but as if she were seeing everything with a bright filter. Elena walked around, picking up books and family pictures as she went. She set everything down as she moved. Then she picked up the picture of her mom, taken when she’d probably been Elena’s age, back in Florida where she’d grown up. She was smiling, her eyes full of wonder for what the future held. It must have been her senior picture.

  Elena wasn’t sure. She knew her mom had grown up in Miami, the daughter of a Cuban refugee and the American wife who’d fallen in love with him while teaching him English at the local college. Elena smiled, setting the picture down. She remembered her grandparents’ love story, how her mom had told it to her, making love sound like the one thing in the world everyone should aspire to. She’d been a romantic.

  Sometimes, though, love and romance didn’t fit into lives as easily as they did in fiction, or in glossed over stories of two grandparents falling in love.

  Elena walked to her room and headed straight to her closet. She didn’t own too many dresses, mostly because she preferred the comfort of jeans, t-shirts, and sweatpants.