Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Mostly, he tried to do that.
Not if she was gonna cry all over him, though.
Before his mother could get started, Juan shoved the last half of his bagel into his mouth, scooped up his cell phone from the table with one hand, and slung his bookbag up from the floor with the other. He rounded the table, ready to follow after his father because Miguel usually took him to his private high school across town while his mother took his sisters to their lower school.
He didn’t even make it to the kitchen entryway before his mother caught up to him. Stephanie caught him from behind, her small arms wrapping tight around his neck so she could draw him into a hug that practically choked him. She dotted the top of his short-cropped hair with kiss after kiss, making Juan cringe even if he did love his ma.
“Stop growing,” she told him.
Juan shook his head. “Not really how it works, Ma.”
She sighed, arms tightening around him yet again before she dropped one more kiss to the top of his head. “Yeah, I know. Love you, hmm? Be good at school.”
“When am I not good, Ma?”
“Well ... goddammit, I said I love you. You’re not too old to say it back, Juan.”
No. He wasn’t.
And he never would be.
“Love you, too, Ma.”
Her palm patted the back of his head, her silent command for him to head after his father. Juan didn’t need to be told again, and by the time he slipped into his father’s truck, Miguel was already buckled in, and putting the vehicle into reverse.
“You were good for your ma, right?”
Juan side-eyed his father. “Do you expect me not to be?”
His father smiled. “Never, Juan.”
“Hmm.”
Before his father could say anything more, the phone in Juan’s hand buzzed. He brought the home screen up and checked the incoming text message, smiling at who it was and what the message said.
Cece.
“What’s that?” his father asked.
Happy birthday, Juan. See you this weekend.
Accompanied by three heart emojis.
“Juan,” Miguel pressed.
He typed back a quick thanks, and that he’d be there waiting to see her once she arrived with her mother on the private airstrip.
Like always.
“Cece,” he finally said, “telling me happy birthday.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
Miguel shrugged, navigating familiar streets with ease. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
Juan eyed his father. “Didn’t sound like nothing. You said huh. You only say huh when you have something to say to me, but aren’t really sure what to say or how to say it. What would you want to say to me about Cece?”
“Just go right for it, don’t you, son?”
Was he wrong, though?
Juan didn’t think so.
“What is it?”
“Well, it’s ... her. Cece.”
Juan frowned. “What about her?”
Miguel let out a laugh, but it felt almost ... tense. Awkward, maybe? Juan thought the only time he’d ever heard his father talk like that was when his twelve-year-old sister started her period and only he and his dad were home to deal with it until his ma got back.
“You know she’s got a crush on you, right?”
Juan quieted. “I mean—”
“And that she’s going to be thirteen soon—you just turned fourteen. You have to be careful about that, you know? You understand more about things than she does, and it doesn’t look good—”
“We’re not like that, Papa.”
Miguel let out a slow breath, looking at Juan from the side. “Yet, Juan. You’re not like that yet. But those kinds of things? They change just like that. Everything changes in the blink of an eye, and I just want to make sure you understand how to behave appropriately. No, that’s wrong. I know you know how to behave. I just want you to tell me you understand everything I am saying right now. That you hear me.”
Yeah, he did.
He’d also known that for a while.
About Cece ... and her crush.
At first, he’d kind of thought it was just some innocent thing. Besides, it didn’t really matter because Juan still looked at Cece and saw his friend. His father talked about that change like it would happen, but Juan didn’t know that it would.
And if it did?
If everything changed?
Well, that was the thing.
It hadn’t.
Not yet.
Chapter 7 - Never Know
Cece POV
14 years old ...
“So, what is even going on with that?”
“Yeah, spill the shit.”
Cece sighed, tipping her cup of punch up for a drink and trying to ignore two of her cousins who had seemed to pick up on the fact that she was neither in the mood to talk, nor standing right beside Juan during her family’s dinner party like she usually would. And since the Marcellos were known for being nosy motherfuckers, they decided they couldn’t just pretend like they hadn’t noticed anything.
No.
They had to drive her crazy.
“Well?” Tiffany asked.
Cece passed her cousin a look. “I thought your ma and dad weren’t coming in from Toronto this weekend?”
Tiff tossed a blonde curl over her shoulder, shrugging. “Things changed.”