Learn to Love You by Jade Hernández
I hate you right now.”
I slid the brush through my hair, pulling at the ratted tangles and wincing every time. The yanks at my scalp took me back to my childhood. Back when my mom would slam a brush against my head in retaliation every time I moved and messed up her braids. It would happen a few times before she finally gave up, tore the careful construct of arranged hair, and let me go to school with it down in waves against my shoulders.
Pulling at the tangles now felt like my own way of punishing myself for being stupid enough to walk into breakfast with a bird’s nest in the first place.
“You love me,” Gabriela replied before she leaned forward in the mirror of her vanity and swiped lip gloss over her full, heart shaped lips. She finished and smacked her mouth, blowing a kiss to her reflection before smoothing the ends of her hair over her shoulders.
I’d always admired her sense of style. One would think that because we were opposites, me quiet and calm, her loud and boisterous, that she would dress as wild as her personality. But that wasn’t the case. Yes, Gabriela was wild at heart. She was opinionated and headstrong, but she gave off bad ass jefa vibes and every day she dressed like she was ready to destroy the patriarchy.
She wore dark slacks with a pink blouse and a single string of pearls around her neck. She didn’t wear earrings or anything she deemed frivolous around her wrists. Her makeup was simple, her gaze sharp.
She looked ready to conquer the world while I stood next to her in jeans, a pastel-colored cardigan, and old flats.
We were like yin and yang, she and I.
“I can’t believe you pulled that stunt,” I complained, setting the brush down on the little table.
Gabriela emitted a rude noise. “Please, you should be thanking me. I know you have the hots for my brother.”
It didn’t matter how many times she said the words, they never failed to make me blush like I was in middle school all over again.
“Now you’ll have the chance to be alone with him for a bit,” she went on, oblivious to my discomfort.
Me and my best friend’s brother? No. Absolutely not.
“I don’t have the… hots… for Junior,“ I said adamantly, stumbling a little over the word. “Besides, that goes against girl code. I’m sure of it.”
Gabriela scoffed. “Screw girl code. You know how I feel about that. It was created by some jealous pendejas who would rather see everyone around them suffer than allow others to live their happiness. What kind of an asshole would I be if I told you not to date my brother when you’ve obviously been mooning over him our whole lives?”
Her words managed to both amuse and offend me at the same time.
Typical Gabriela. She didn’t believe in unspoken codes. She was so frank and honest and believed in going after what you wanted. In her world that was probably the case. We lived on different planets and I was looking through a telescope at her brightness.
Besides, I hadn’t been mooning after Junior. The audacity!
“Yeah, well, I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here. I don’t like him and even if I did, he would never look at me twice. So there.”
I hated how the words burned on my throat and how true they felt, at least the latter. Junior was… untouchable. He always had been. Him and Gabriela had been insanely popular in school because of the confident way they carried themselves. Junior had been on the school’s basketball and soccer teams and had girls fawning over him all the time. Gabriela had exuded beauty and power, and the fact that she’d enrolled in so many clubs—debate, chess, and soccer? She would have been reigning queen of the school were it not for the baggage she dragged around like a shadow.
Me.
I was that baggage.
So even if I wanted him, I would never fit or deserve him simply because of who I was and where I came from. I didn’t have a big, beautiful family. I was never the smartest in my class like Gabriela. I was plain. Tarnished copper, compared to their glittering gold.
“Alright.” Gabriela stood to her full height, towering over my smaller stature by a whole foot, placing her hands on her hips. She had the stare mastered to mimic her mother’s, and it was equally frightening as when Mamá Claudia did it. It made me want to whither. “Get this one thing straight, Mayda Jiménez. You are beautiful, and kind, and amazing. My brother couldn’t find anyone better than you even if Diosito himself dropped a woman from the sky right in front of him. You will be with Junior one day and we will be sisters officially. Got that?“ She’d started to point the end of her lip gloss at me like she meant to stab me with it.
I held my hands up in mock surrender. “Cálmate,” I said. “Calm down, it’s no big deal.”
Gabriela’s eyes narrowed “I know when you’re shit talking yourself in that pretty little head of yours. I won’t stand for it. So just get with the program, grab your bag, and go charm the pants off my brother so you can get married already. Geez.” She tossed the lip gloss with irritation, which only made me chuckle as I bent to grab my overnight bag and slung it over my shoulder.
This had been an on-going battle that had only seemed to escalate over the years. My best friend had never been the type to say “Ew, you have a crush on my brother!” and shame me for it, no matter how badly I denied it. The first time Junior had yanked on my ponytail in passing, Gabriela’s eyes had lit up with promise. The next day, with a bright, scheming smile, she’d declared, “One day you will marry Junior and we can be sisters de verdad.”
De verdad.
For real.
A longing had burst inside my five-year-old heart at those words. But then her own sisters had been born. Ximena and then Sofia, one after the other and ten months apart, as appeared to be the norm with the Águila-Gutierrez siblings. It seemed Gabriela had gotten her wish. She had sisters for real. But she never pushed me away, and she said she still wanted me because I was closer to her age than the others. Because I was her favorite.
I was never sure if she truly meant those words, but hell if Gabriela didn’t have a way of making me feel special.
It was one of the things I loved the most about her.
“I can’t believe you’re ditching me.”
“I have work to do, y tú también. So stop complaining.” With a final flick of her hair, she turned towards her bedroom door. “Now get out and go flirt with Junior.”
I scoffed as I left her room, stopping to say goodbye to Mamá Claudia and Gabriela’s abuelita. I hated interrupting them while they were bustling around the house, even more so while they were watching their favorite morning novela, but I still stopped and said goodbye, since leaving without doing that would have been taboo. She probably would have kicked me out and never let me back in if I dared.
After saying my goodbyes, I headed out the door, walking down the graveled path to where Junior’s truck was parked to find him speaking with his father. I slowed my gait, looking between the two. I observed them for a moment, noting their similarities and differences.
All of the women of the Águila-Gutierrez family looked like very different versions of the same painting, or at the very least, different variations of a single color. But Junior looked like his father, and I could catch a glimpse of what Junior would be when he was older. Señor Águila had a strong build and a slightly rounded stomach. He wasn’t the tallest; in fact, Junior loomed over him by quite a bit. But they had the same strong, straight nose and fierce jawlines. While Junior kept his face clean shaven, Señor Águila’s upper lip was peppered with a graying mustache. Their eyes were similar, drawn in the same shape, same thick, dark lashes, and a color that rivaled molten pools of honey every time the sunlight hit them. My steps faltered and I tried to keep my expression neutral, satisfied that it wouldn’t change in time to the crazy pounding of my stupid heart whenever he was near.
But then he turned and looked at me and his whole body seemed to soften. I hated noticing that. Hated how Gabriela’s words about Junior and I getting married played in my head when I knew just how impossible it was. But I couldn’t deny the softness of his expression. How his body seemed to tilt towards me. Or the feelings he provoked in my belly as he stared into my eyes like he was trying to find a chip in my armor.
He always looked at me like that.
Like he could strip away all my secrets with a passing glance. What I didn’t know was why he wanted them, or what he planned to do with them if he ever had them.
The fear of that alone had me tearing my gaze away from him to look at his father, a soft smile pulling at my lips.
“Thanks for having me over, Señor Águila.”
“I told you many times to call me Papá Damián.”
I tensed a fraction, hoping they didn’t notice. He had told me to call him that, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Not because I felt like it was a betrayal to my own father, screw that guy, but because Damián was also Junior’s name, and I didn’t want to sound like a freaking pervert.
He just smiled at me before turning back to Junior. The two shared a look and I noticed how Junior tensed up before turning to me and snapping.
“Ready to go?”
Well, shit.
The sharpness coming off him could slice me into pieces. So much for Gabriela’s master plan. Not like I had been intent on it in the first place. Hell no. I wasn’t going to be making a fool of myself in front of Junior by attempting—pathetically—to flirt with him.
He opened the passenger side door for me, and I slipped inside methodically, putting my seatbelt on before he slammed the door. He got in on his side and peeled out so quickly I jerked against my seatbelt.
What the hell?
I looked at him from my peripheral and noted the white-knuckled grip he had on the steering wheel and the slight flare of his nostrils. Something was upsetting him. I wasn’t sure what he and his father were talking about, but that would explain this sudden anger.
I didn’t want to think about it though, because regardless of what his sister wanted, Junior and I were barely friends. We barely spoke to one another unless Gabriela was there because things had a funny way of getting very awkward very quickly.
Like right now, for example.
So I pressed my lips tightly together and I shut up and focused on the ride ahead. But as the ride progressed and he veered off into the highway, Junior’s shoulders began to relax, his fingers loosening against the wheel. I knew he was calm the moment he let out his next deep breath.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
I didn’t reply except to lift a shoulder in a shrug. There wasn’t anything I could say. Everyone had a right to their feelings, good or bad, and at least he was conscious enough to apologize when he felt he was in the wrong.
In my experience, not everyone was like that.
“Hey.”
I jerked my attention from the rosary hanging from the mirror, swinging like a pendulum, to find him side-glancing me.
“I’m sorry, Mayda,” he repeated. “I was an asshole.”
“It’s okay, Junior.”
He let out another breath that escaped into a chuckle. “Shit, that was easy. My sisters would have slammed my face into the steering wheel.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not your sister then,” I replied with an almost teasing tone.
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Good thing.” The words were spoken low, so low they held an entrancing edge to them that made me want to shiver. My breath caught in my throat at the heated flash in his eyes a single moment before he turned his attention back to the road.
What the hell was that?
A reprieve from that heated stare had me looking out the window, trying to discreetly catch my breath. For a moment it felt like…
“So, tell me about your new job,” Junior began.
My job was a great subject for the much-needed distraction. It helped to tear me from the fantasies my mind conjured up.
“I’m starting on as a school counselor,” I explained. “I’ve been working office jobs for so long hoping to get here one day. It feels pretty surreal that I actually made it after applying to so many schools.”
I worked hard to become a counselor. I knew people didn’t think it was an important job, especially not at an elementary school, but it was. Young minds were always the most impressionable, and if there was a possibility that I could help at least one student on the pathway to a better life? It was worth it.
I wasn’t aware I’d said those words aloud until Junior’s hand came to rest against my thigh. “You’re doing a great thing,” he whispered.
But I couldn’t focus on his words when his hand. Was. On. My. Thigh.
Shit.
The touch was warm and grounding, much like his presence. Meanwhile, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. For a second, I entertained a fantasy where his hand slid up higher to press between my legs, easing the ache he caused with his mere presence.
“Thanks,” I choked out.
Seeming to realize what he was doing, his hand slipped away from me quickly to press back against the wheel. I noted the way the fingers on that hand tightened and I wondered if he felt like contact with me burned. It certainly burned me. Even through my jeans, I could feel the presence of his touch like a heavy brand.
But it didn’t bother me at all.
In fact, a selfish part of me wanted his hand there again.
“Some people would probably tell you to work with CPS instead.”
His sudden words broke me out of whatever spell he’d placed under me. An immediate scoff pushed from my lips that I tried to snuff just as quickly as it was released.
Junior’s eyes darted to me, then back to the road. “Don’t have a high opinion of them?”
“Oh, no, I do. It’s just…” I tried to convene my thoughts and internal monologue, carefully picking apart and organizing my sentences before I spoke them. “I think the system is disgustingly broken.”
He waved a hand between us, a silentious order to elaborate.
“Think about it. If a parent can’t afford to take care of their child, the government takes them away and places them under the care of a foster family, giving that family monthly checks and food stamps. Monetary aid that could have been given to the child’s parent in the first place. In what world does that system make any sense at all? Not to mention the blatant abuse that occurs within these homes and the fact that so many of those teens end up homeless or back with parents unable and unwilling to change or care for them the way they deserve! Not to mention, the parents that actually love their children being forced away from them!”
A prolonged silence filled the space in which I fought to catch my breath.
“I guess I never thought about it.” His fingers thrummed against the wheel and he nibbled on his bottom lip. “I mean, how could I? I grew up privileged, I guess. I don’t know the struggles of others.” For a second, he sounded disgusted with himself, and a part of me wanted to reach across and placate him with a hand to his knee like he had me. But I didn’t. He was right. He was privileged. That didn’t make him a bad person, though. It just meant that he had a lot to learn about the world.
“The number of POC and BIPOC children screwed over by the system is astounding. Besides giving them over to white families and having their cultures erased, it just ensures systematic poverty. With the system overflowing with kids, they’re too tired to care about a single one of them.“ My voice cracked on the last word, a sliver of my emotions bleeding through. I forced myself to look away, watching the scenery pass by while I tried to get my shit together.
I’d researched foster care extensively as a kid and would have done anything to avoid it.
“So, you think you’re better suited to help at the school?” he asked, pulling my attention back to him.
“I know it probably sounds fantastical, and logically I know that I won’t be able to help every child, but I want to make a difference. Even if it’s just for one kid. School is a sanctuary for some, and they need that safe haven, just like they need teachers and counselors to talk to.”
I’d needed that. I was speaking from my own experiences, and from many others. School was my haven besides the Águila-Gutierrez household. It was where I could flourish in my studies, where I didn’t have to worry about the crippling fear of staggering footsteps and angry words and punishments.
“Eres increíble, Mayda,” Junior whispered finally. “Truly incredible.”
The praise had a flush crawling up my neck and staining my cheeks. I probably looked a really unattractive shade, and I was desperate to change the subject. While I was proud of my work and what I aspired to be, talking about it with Junior felt intimate in a way that frightened me. Only Gabriela knew my hopes and dreams, and even then, she knew whatever little pieces I gifted her. His attention made me feel awkward, and without my best friend present as a buffer, I feared he’d easily be able to gauge every emotion on my face.
I shrugged. “So, what about you?”
Drum, drum, drum. His fingers tapped away at the wheel. “What about me?”
“What are your future plans?”
The drumming stuttered off-beat before he white-knuckled the wheel and cleared his throat. He flashed me a side smirk before returning his focus to the road, though I noticed his demeanor had changed. I was in tune with his mannerisms, yet the change was so subtle, I almost hadn’t caught it.
“You know.” His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Taking care of el rancho.”
“Lots of work goes into that.”
“Yup.”
His one-worded answer was off-putting as well as telling. I was toeing a line of a subject he didn’t want to discuss. While curiosity burned holes through my insides, I backed off, respecting his bit of privacy. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to know; we weren’t that close. I had no right or reason to pry. Besides, I had my own secrets.
We all did.
Some more dreadful than others.
Eventually we fell back into comfortable conversation that died down all too soon as we got closer to my place. Even as Junior tried to keep it going, relishing in our brief moment of camaraderie, I couldn’t bring myself to play along anymore. Self-consciousness coiled in my gut as I realized this was the first time he’d ever been in my neighborhood. This was the first time, in all the time we’d known one another, he would see my house.
Gabriela and her sisters had been here on occasion—during quick pit stops to pick up my things—and while Gabriela didn’t mind the humble, broken-down place I’d lived in since I was a kid, I preferred to keep this part of my life separate from theirs. Mine was embarrassing. Not because the house wasn’t as lavish as theirs, but because it was hollow inside. Dead.
And because of who I lived with.
The broken shingles and cracked windows looked disgustingly dreary and pathetic. The place made me feel small in ways I didn’t think I was capable of feeling anymore. It was hard not to compare the opulence of the ranch to this. Hell, even Junior’s small home outside of the main house was better kept than mine.
I could feel my cheeks burning as he pulled up to my driveway. He put the truck in park and stared out the window at my place, his brows furrowed together. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but at the same time, I was sure I would’ve died of mortification if I deep-dived into his thoughts. Having him here was embarrassing enough as is; I didn’t need to hear his internal musings about my shitty place.
I cleared my throat, pressing the button on my seat belt so it would slide back into place. Gripping the strap of my overnight bag tightly, I refused to meet Junior’s eyes.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said. “I guess I’ll… I’ll see you some other time.” I couldn’t open the door fast enough. My fingers fumbled as they shook against the handle. My breaths were shallow and demanding and my face was flaming.
“Mayda…”
His voice cut through the sound of me pushing open the truck door. I froze, one leg already out of the vehicle. I didn’t want to face him and see pity on his face, but not to look at him would make me seem like the coward I was.
So I took a deep breath and turned to meet his gaze, only to find him smirking at me.
“¿No te vas a despedir de mi?”
I nearly swallowed my tongue at the deep timbre and perfect Spanish pushing past his lips.
I was Puerto Rican on my mom’s side, but she never taught me to speak a lick of Spanish, even if she could speak it herself. She was just never around enough to bother educating me on the language, let alone my heritage. But one didn’t spend time at the Águila-Gutierrez household and not pick up bits and pieces of it.
Their house was a clash of cultures, Mexican and American. Their parents were so involved with their children’s lives that it was unfathomable they didn’t know their own roots. I envied that sometimes, wished my mom would have cared enough to teach me something, anything.
Regardless, I knew what Junior was saying.
Aren’t you going to say goodbye to me?
I nearly sputtered. I knew he was teasing just like he always did because he wanted to see me flustered. I couldn’t show him just what his words made me feel as I slid my leg back into the truck and scooted towards him.
In Mexican—or rather, in most Latine cultures—we greeted and said our goodbyes with a kiss to the cheek. I’d done it hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, but this felt different.
It felt intimate.
With my lips a whisper away from his skin, I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His face turned as I moved, though, lips skimming against the corner of my mouth. I froze and his touch lingered. We stayed like that for a single breath before I pulled away.
Fireworks danced beneath my skin, causing the hairs on my arms to rise. I resisted the urge to slide my palms against my body to ease that burning ache that rapidly built.
Junior’s own pupils were flaring, his eyes trained on my mouth. This had never happened before. I didn’t mean the desire. That was quintessentially my own. It breathed within me, a life I couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard I tried. I’d spent so many nights burning with it, wishing his hands were there to ease the ache, having to make do with my own.
It was the charged air between us like crackles of electricity. It made everything more perceptible. My feelings. My emotions. My nipples ached within my bra, and my core throbbed to the beating of my heart and harsh breaths. Everything about this was almost suffocating and entirely too overwhelming.
“Thanks again.” I broke the spell, and his eyes went up to mine again. “See you…”
His mouth opened and closed then opened again. Finally, he nodded but didn’t say anything else, so I jumped out of the truck and slammed the door, making sure to walk calmly up to my house. I dug into my pocket for the key, my hands trembling as I opened it and stepped inside.
I took a moment without him in my presence to breathe deeply and get my emotions under control. It was so hard to do around him. Each day I felt my mask slipping more and more, and I was terrified that one day, he’d be able to read it as easily as Gabriela could.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I dropped my bag on the floor and began gathering my things I needed for my office. It took me all of ten minutes to get everything in two different boxes, as I’d already prepped most of it beforehand. Hefting one in my arms, I juggled it and my car keys as I stepped back outside.
Only to find Junior still parked out front.
He jumped out of the truck and sauntered towards me, his hips all but moving seductively as he approached. “Let me help.” Before I could protest, he was pulling the box from my arms to his.
“Um… don’t you have to go to work?” I asked.
“Trying to get rid of me?” He winked back. “Let me help you, Mayda. I can drive you to work and help you get your office settled.”
I could practically hear Gabriela laughing maniacally in my ear, urging me to say yes and put the moves on him, but my own logical thoughts won out. My brows furrowed. “I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already done enough…”
Junior’s eyes rolled. “Giving you a ride isn’t what I’d call ‘enough’. Come on, Mayda. Quiero ayudar. I’ll take you to school, help you set up, and then bring you back.”
My own eyes narrowed at the offer, trying to gauge why he wanted to help me so badly. Junior was always very selfless and very kind. In school, if we walked in the same direction, he would always offer to carry my bag and books, even while he held mountains of his own plus his basketball or soccer equipment. He was chivalrous. But I didn’t like feeling like a burden any more than I had to.
“Why?”
He was already moving towards the truck. “Why what?” He opened the door and set the boxes in the back seat before turning with raised eyebrows.
“Why do you want to help?” I hated how snippy the words sounded and how ungrateful they tasted on my tongue. I winced; I couldn’t help it.
It was hard accepting help. Anytime anyone tried, they always wanted something in return. There was always some ulterior motive that came with their offers. It was the one thing my mom had taught me that was hard to get rid of.
It was hard enough being friends with Gabriela, staying at her house, eating her food. I learned to roll with it because she was my best friend, and I tried to give kindness back to her as much as she gave it to me. Junior was different.
I wasn’t sure if his kindness came with a price, and I hated myself for thinking it did. He had never implied that it did, so why was my mind going in that direction now?
He studied me a moment before answering and when he did, he leaned forward and smirked. “The truth is, I’m helping you for selfish reasons.”
I knew it.
I swallowed, and it felt like there was a lump caught in my throat.
“I want to see you in action. I want to see you at school, I want to see all the great things you plan on doing…”
My chest heaved with those words, though trepidation still crawled down my spine. It seemed almost too good to be true, and I didn’t want to hope that he was actually being honest. “I’m just going to set up my office… I—I’m not actually starting work…”
He smiled, flashing straight, white teeth. “I know.” Then he sobered for a second. “You made me realize that I know nothing about the real world. I’ve been living in the rancho’s bubble.” His gaze swept over my house then back to me. “I’m embarrassed. To know so little about the system, about you. How is it, Mayda, that we’ve known each other for years and it still feels like I don’t know a thing about you? Can’t you just give me this?”
If he was anything like his sister, I knew he wasn’t going to give up so easily. It would be better to give in, to let him take me to the school and back again without a fight.
I didn’t show it in my expression as I agreed, but my stomach rumbled with nervous butterflies. Unwilling to admit it, a part of me was excited and reluctant to be spending more time with him, just the two of us. That he wanted to know me, even if there wasn’t much worth knowing.