"You weren't supposed to live!! You said you'd be back! Liar!!"☻
After leaving the car, I led Miguel through the shopping district. He seemed to choose the most expensive stores he could find, completely disregarding the fact that I'm just a college student. He never misses a chance to mildly torture me—such a sadist.
"Can I buy a cellphone in this area?" he asked, finally turning to me as I struggled to carry his numerous bags.
"There's a supermarket about ten minutes—" I began, but paused when I noticed the disapproval on his face. Sighing, I used my phone to locate the nearest electronics retailer. While I searched the web, Miguel took the bags from my arms, making it easier to type on the screen.
"I found it, it's—" Miguel cut me off with a sudden kiss.
"I'm sorry… where?" he asked, and I hung my head, unable to look at him.
"It… doesn't matter. I'll call for a ride," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but I failed. I focused on calling a driver instead.
We were back at my mother's house about an hour later. Mom threw her arms around me and hugged me the second I walked in. She and Jasper were holding hands for some reason, and seeing that made me nauseous.
"I'm back…" I said weakly, hoping she'd let me go.
"Wow! You bought a lot. I never knew you were such a shopaholic," she said. I laughed awkwardly.
"I'm… going to put my things away," I muttered, hoping I could escape the room for a moment.
"Nope. Miguel can put your things away by himself. There's no way I'm letting you guys be alone together," she teased.
To my dismay, Miguel left without argument, so I had no choice but to follow Mom to the dining area for a chat. At least it was just the two of us—Jasper had left to run errands. We sat side by side in silence until Mom finally broke it, smiling as she stared at me.
"So, how did you meet?"
I wish I weren't here right now. I hate lying, and just thinking about it made me feel even sicker than I already did. But I had no other choice.
"I met him at school," I said, hoping to keep the details vague.
"Oh? What field of study is he in?" she asked, tilting her head. I swallowed hard.
"Culinary," I replied.
She tapped her chin. "I don't want to be rude…" she began—always the cue that she was about to be rude—so I braced myself.
"I've been to your campus, and the Culinary department is really far from yours. But it's close to the music area… Did you meet him while you were still dating Jack? Or maybe he's one of Jack's acquaintances? Give me the tea. I'm not judging—it just makes sense."
I felt insulted but kept it out of my voice. "Of course not."
Her smile faded, and she waved her arms in a mild panic.
"I'm not accusing you of anything! It's just… I remember you telling me the Culinary students have their own cafeteria and you always go home right after class. And… the past few years you haven't looked your best, honey. So it would be easier for you to meet a guy who, uh… sees your potential. That's all I'm saying."
"Thanks, Mom," I replied sarcastically. Her spirit visibly sank.
I sighed. "I understand what you mean, but I really only met him recently. Just by chance."
My softer tone revived her instantly. She perked up—she's so easy to read.
"Are you sure it was by chance? Maybe he saw one of your plays and wanted to meet you. I don't believe in coincidences. Your meeting was fate!"
At that moment, Maxell placed a margarita on the counter in front of her.
"Wow! Max! You know me so well. I can never let you leave me—you have to work here forever," Mom said giddily, sipping her drink.
"It would be my pleasure, madam. Would you like anything, Lemiette?" he asked, turning to me.
I shook my head no.
"What are you talking about?" I jolted—Miguel had appeared and planted himself in the barstool next to me.
"Nothing!" I blurted, hoping Mom wouldn't say anything unnecessary. She finished off her margarita and exhaled.
"So… how did you and my daughter meet?" she asked him, as if our previous conversation never happened.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she shushed me. "Let him answer, please."
"We… met at school," Miguel said, sounding uncharacteristically bashful. "Admittedly, I saw her about three years ago. I'd wanted to meet her ever since."
He's a better liar than me. I know he's lying, but even I could be fooled into thinking he was being sincere right now.
"See? I told you!" Mom said, teasing. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered.
"Did you see her in a play or something?" she continued. I gave her a warning look, but Miguel answered anyway.
"No… she was locally famous because she's your daughter and looks a lot like you. I was just lucky enough to see her up close one day. That's not what made me fall for her, of course, but it was enough to get me interested. I'm glad we finally spoke—even if it took three years."
He's really crafting a whole story for this facade.
"That's so romantic! And thank you! I always call her my little twin! See, Lemiette? It's fate! You two are meant to be! I'm so happy now. You both need to have a drink with me!"
"No," I said.
"Sure," Miguel said at the same time—and of course, that's the only answer she heard.