Flee (10 page)

****

After a monotonous run and a quick shower, I returned to the kitchen and opened the oven door, finding it empty. Mom sat at the breakfast table, sipping coffee and reading the day's headlines from her laptop computer.

“There you are.” She smiled at me. “I woke up smelling chocolate and thought I was having a fabulous dream. Then I came in here and discovered my favorite cake in the oven. I had to ask myself if it was my birthday.”

I chuckled. “No, don't panic. You're not a year older yet. You just look it.”

She stuck her tongue out at me and stood. Pinned to the front of her robe was that horrible button. She laughed at my expression. “I'm having so much fun with this button! I think I will have one made for every occasion. I could have a
Mateo swimming in the pool
button, and a
Mateo doing his homework
button and a
Mateo worrying unnecessarily about me and withholding vital information
button…” Her expression turned serious. I met her gaze without flinching.

“I don't want you to worry, Mom. I'll let you know if things get dangerous. It's under control.”

“Mateo, you are such a Latino male! It is part of what I love about you, and what I love about your dad.” She paused, and I could tell her mind had wandered to thoughts of him. When she continued, her voice was somehow smaller, sadder. “It's part of what attracted me to him in the first place. What woman doesn't love being protected and taken care of? But I let that get to an extreme with your father, until I didn't even know what was going on in my own house. I won't live like that again. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma'am,” I replied, mock saluting her, but sincere in what I had to say. “I'll alert Hector and the security detail to fully answer your questions. And I promise I'll tell you everything from now on. Do you have any questions about what happened today?”

She glanced over at Hector, who sat huddled on the couch, only his feet visible behind the large section of newspaper he was hiding behind like a shield, and shook her head no.

“I've been debriefed. Oh, and you should know, the arrest of Roberto De La Garza was announced by the Mexican Anti-Drug Bureau thirty minutes ago. According to Hector, we can all breathe a big sigh of relief. He said he will have the security team stick to their plan, but he doesn't think the footprint is a concern any longer.”

I nodded and moved in to give her a quick hug. “I'm sorry I underestimated you. You're a strong woman. You've had to be.”

“Yes, well, I understand. I kind of fell apart for a little while there. I'm making a comeback though, I think. These last few weeks have been hard, but healing in some ways. I guess I needed some distance to gain some perspective.” Mom paused and pointed to the cake cooling on the countertop where she had placed it after pulling it out for me. “So, what's the occasion?”

“I'm trying to tempt Blake to eat and gain some weight. Callie told me she used to be a chocoholic.” I had filled Mom in last night on all of my concerns for Blake. She had watched me intently as I had talked, apparently trying to gauge the depth of my feelings, which I had tried to pass off as concern of a friend for a friend but had probably fooled neither of us.

“Well, then, under the circumstances, I guess I'll share my cake. But I better get a big piece.”

“Sure thing.” I had taught myself to make Mom's favorite flourless chocolate cake when I was eight and discovered that although she baked a cake for each of our birthdays, no one baked one for her. My earliest attempt had been a disaster, but she had cried and eaten it anyway, calling it her favorite present ever. Since then, I had almost perfected it, adding a white chocolate liqueur sauce.

“Do you want me to make the sauce while you're at school?” she asked, glancing at the clock.

“That would be great. Thanks, Mom. I'll see you at the game?”

“Oh, you know I'll be there, button and all. I'll actually be there before school is out. I want to get some measurements in the locker room before it's filled with stinky, sweaty boys. And then there's the pep rally.” She grinned when I groaned. “Hey, you're the one who wanted the normal high school experience. After the rally I'm going to help get the concession stand set up, so it looks like I'll be up there for a while. I'm looking forward to meeting your Blake. Will you introduce us there, or do you want to wait until she's here?”

“She is not
my
Blake, Mom.” Mom raised her eyebrows at me. I ignored her and continued, “But I'll bring her over to meet you at school if I have a chance. See ya there.” I grabbed my car keys and backpack, gave Mom a quick peck on the cheek, and headed for the door.

“Mateo, be careful. I love you. And grab some breakfast at school. It's game day. You need some protein.”

“I will, Mom. Love you too. And destroy that button.” She very slowly and deliberately shook her head no. Well, at least I tried.

****

Arriving at school twenty minutes early, I had to stand and gawk for a minute at the carnival-like atmosphere. Balloons and banners were everywhere, cheering the team on to victory. I had been told that football was a god in Texas, but this was my first time to experience its worship. Did the staff plan a light academic load on game days? There was so much energy in the air, I couldn't imagine anyone being able to pay much attention in class. As I walked through the parking lot, packed with students tossing footballs and hanging out, I spied Callie and Chad in the back of his truck with several other students eating breakfast.

“Tailgating with donuts. That's a new one. Shouldn't you be grilling something?”

“Maybe things are a little looser in Mexico, but here the administration tends to frown on any form of fire in the parking lot,” Chad replied, smiling. “We are forced to get up for the game with deep fried dough.” He held out a donut.

“Thanks, but no. I think I'll head to the cafeteria and try to find something with a little more protein. Save me one for later, though, dude.”

Chad pretended to shudder. “The cafeteria. You're a brave man, Mateo.” He took a bite of the offered donut. “And you don't know what you're missing.”

“Hey, Mateo, I can walk with you and help you find something if you like.”

The voice belonged to a pretty blonde sitting next to Callie. Audrey? Aubrey? Was she in my Latin class? Callie was frowning at her as she looked at me expectantly.

“Thanks for the offer, but maybe you better stay in the safety of the truck. We should probably only risk one of us going in to the cafeteria at a time.”

There was only one girl I wanted to spend time with, and she was nowhere to be found. “Has anyone seen Blake today?”

Callie smiled at that and jerked her thumb in the direction of the plaza. “We tried to get her to join us, but I think she had other company in mind.” She winked at me and I couldn't help smiling back.

I walked to the plaza, my eyes scanning it and coming up disappointingly empty before I stopped by the cafeteria and grabbed a couple of breakfast tacos. I was surprisingly very hungry. I'd been up so long my body seemed to think it was lunchtime already. Rounding the corner outside of the cafeteria, I finally saw Blake sitting at a picnic table, a breakfast taco of her own in her hand.

“Hey, look at you! My own little Shetland pony. I'm proud of you.” Her tortilla, cheese, bacon and egg combination was halfway gone.

“I'll have you know that I already had three pancakes at home with Benji,” she said, and then amended when I raised my eyebrows. “Okay, so they were silver dollar-sized and Benji ate two of them, but it's a start.”

“A very good start. Thanks for trying so hard. How does it taste?”

“Like sawdust.” She made a face and I laughed.

“Perhaps the school cafeteria isn't the best place to go if you want good food. I'm kind of jealous right now that you can't taste this. Trust me, it's for the better.” I sat beside her and removed half the foil from my taco and began eating. “How'd you sleep?” I asked between bites.

“Better than usual. Four straight hours, and then off and on for a couple of more. All in all, not too bad.” She smiled, but her puffy eyes gave her away. She was still very tired.

“Not too good, either, but one thing at a time. Finish your breakfast.”

She groaned and mumbled, “Aye-aye, sir,” but took another bite.

I finished my second taco and watched her slowly eat. It was casual day at school. Jeans and school colors were allowed. Blake looked great in her jeans and West Austin Academy Football t-shirt. She wore black fabric high tops, and her hair was in two braids with school-colored ribbons tied on the ends. She looked like a carefree little girl. I grinned at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. You just look adorable,” I replied.

“Great,” she returned sarcastically. “Yesterday I was stunning, and today I'm just adorable. Tomorrow I'll probably be back to, what was it? Oh yeah, exhausted, sweaty, and wilted.”

“You're touchy when you're tired,” I teased. She ignored me, turned to try and hide a yawn, and then stood up and threw away what was left of her breakfast. I grabbed her hand. “Come on, I'll walk you to class.”

The school day passed quickly and ended early with the pep rally. I found it amusing to stand with the team and not the student body. It was still hard to believe I was playing football. Apparently Mom was amused also. She grinned and winked at me from the stands. Blake, as one of the team's managers, was supposed to be with us on the field, but she seemed to have quietly disappeared when all of the hub-bub began. The pep rally was short, and the student body hyped. When it ended the team headed to the locker room to dress out for the game.
Uncle
Hector, video camera in hand, approached me before I entered. He spoke low and in Spanish, the pleasant expression on his face not matching his words.

“The security team found evidence of what we assume are reconnaissance posts, four different spots in the woods. They appear recent but abandoned. Cigarette butts left behind at one of them are a central Mexican brand, not readily available here in the States.”

I spoke low and casually and also in Spanish, careful to not be overheard. “Are you thinking it was the De La Garzas? Can we relax now that they know we're not responsible for Roberto's disappearance?”

He reached in to give me a good luck pat on the back, whispering in my ear as he did so. “I am cautiously optimistic. Even so, I have authorized the installation of perimeter security cameras to be added to what is already in place. Is this okay?”

I nodded. Although I was unwilling to have much of Dad's money spent on me, I would not skimp on keeping my mother safe. She was much too important to me, to the family. I remembered my father's parting words, how he said he would never forgive me if anything happened to her. It was an unnecessary threat. I would never forgive myself.

“I'm having company over tonight,” I said. Hector grinned. Apparently Mom had filled him in. “Do you think it will be safe, or should I cancel?”

“No, don't cancel,
muchacho
. I have to see this. I have watched the
Señoritas
throw themselves at you at
fútbol
matches for years, and you've never given them a second glance. There are broken hearts all over Baja because of you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but he continued undaunted.

“I want to meet the girl who caught your eye.” He winked, but then turned serious. “I'll stay in contact with Foster during the game and let you know if it's safe afterward. I don't foresee a problem. My gut is whoever was there is long gone.”

I found myself again thankful for his presence. This was not a burden I wanted to bear alone, nor was I qualified. My somewhat unorthodox education had included all of the classics, as well as training in self-defense, small arms weaponry, and some military training. But I had always followed orders, never given them, and I was hesitant to start now. Hector had been doing this almost as long as I had been alive, and he was good at it. I forced myself to relax and headed to the locker room to change.

****

My first football game was fun, but mostly because I was watching Blake more than anything else. It was obvious that she loved this game and was extremely competitive. From opening kick-off on, she transformed into a loud, intense presence on the sidelines. She did her job with devotion, and did some of coach's job as well. When Josh Cunningham missed an easy block she was in his face telling him what to do next time. He chuckled and told her it was good to have her back. It seemed like the whole team felt that way. They'd all acted awkward around the quiet, sorrowful Blake, but this Blake was familiar and had apparently been greatly missed. Coach Williams was thrilled with her level of enthusiasm, and I saw Mary Williams, sitting in the stands behind the team, wipe tears from her eyes.

It was an easy win for the team. I did a decent job punting and managed all four extra points for our four touchdowns. I was satisfied with my performance, even if it was a minor contribution to our wide margin of victory. Mom, sitting right in the middle of the overbearingly loud cowbell section, was thrilled. As promised, she wore her obnoxious button and cheered for me wildly. I should have been embarrassed, but it was too much fun to see her so happy. Hector sat next to her in the stands, recording every time I set foot on the field. I made a mental note to find that recording and destroy it.

After the game and a locker room shower, I went to find Blake. Hector had given me a thumbs-up before leaving to escort Mom home, so I proceeded as planned with only a little hesitation. I really should play it safe and cancel, but I could imagine the look on Blake's face if I did, and I knew I couldn't bear to see it. I would just have to take every precaution and whisk her out of there or into the house's panic room at the first hint of danger.

Walking down the hall outside the locker room, I saw Blake talking with Joe in his office. She was chatting excitedly about the game. Coach perched on the edge of his desk watching her, a big grin on his face as he absent-mindedly twirled a football, looking like Atlas relieved of the burden of holding up the world. Seeing me, he jumped down from his perch, extending his hand.

“Man, what a game, Reyna! You're kicking was dead-on. You were a real contributor out there!” He pumped my hand up and down, forgetting to let go in his excitement.

“Thank you, sir. The team played well. I was glad I could help out a little. And I think it made my mom's day.”

Coach chuckled. “Yeah, I could hear her cheering. She was hard to miss.”

“I think live football games are one of the things she's missed the most living in Mexico the past twenty-five years. She's quite a fan. I'm not sure she holds a candle to Blake, though.”

“Blakesy can't help it. It's in her blood. Did you know her father and I played high school and college ball together? He went on to the pros before getting injured and going to law school, while I went into coaching. He was an incredible receiver.” Coach moved over to give Blake a quick hug. He seemed to completely miss the sad look that had crept into her eyes.

I moved in to pick up her backpack lying on the chair by the door. “Are you ready to go, Blake?” I asked quietly, trying to make contact with her downcast eyes. The energy in the room was suddenly gone, deflated like a popped balloon by one thoughtless reference. Coach didn't seem to notice. He continued to rattle on about his glory days on the gridiron. I was grateful for his oblivion. He would have kicked himself if he had realized what he'd done.

Blake looked up and nodded and then put on a thin and strained happy expression before turning to Joe. “We're going now. I'll be home by midnight.” She reached up and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Great coaching tonight. You were really in the zone. This school is lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Be safe. Have fun.” He caught my eye when Blake turned to leave, communicating silently. I nodded once. I knew what he was trying to say, and I was right there with him.
Don't worry
.
I won't let anything happen to her
.

Blake was quiet as we headed for the parking lot. There were still lots of students milling around talking with each other and waiting on players to exit the locker room, making plans for the rest of the evening. Callie was leaning against Chad's truck with the Audrey — or Aubrey — girl, clearly waiting on him. She waved as we passed.

“Did Callie and Chad resolve their differences, or is she wanting another piece of him?” I asked.

Blake looked over, thought for a minute, and then shrugged. “Probably a little bit of both. If I know Cal, she'll never let him rest until he sees things her way, but I think she likes him too. At least she looks at him like she does. I haven't had a real conversation with her in a while. I should call her, I guess.” She looked contemplative, her brows pushed together in concentration.

“You should,” I encouraged. “I know she'd like that.” We were at my truck now. It dawned on me that we might be leaving her car in the parking lot for the weekend. I knew that once the last person left tonight, the gates would be locked until Monday morning.

“Do you need to drive your car and I'll follow you?” Waiting for her answer, I opened the passenger door of the truck and placed her backpack in it.

“No.“ Her cheeks turned pink and she looked down at her feet. “I assumed I would ride with you, so I had Joe drive me this morning. If you'd rather I drive my own car…”

“No.” I interrupted her. She was still looking down and unmoving, so I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the truck. “I would rather you ride with me. I just didn't want your car held hostage if it was in the school lot.”

“Oh.” She looked up and smiled at that, the sad look that had been in her eyes since Coach had mentioned her father no longer evident.

“Are you hungry?” I knew I was. It was 8:30, and although the team had been supplied with snacks before the game, no one had eaten dinner. I hoped she was going to say yes.

“Famished, actually. Games always make me hungry, although I didn't expect them to this season.”

“Excellent. I know just the place.” I headed downtown toward the quirky taco stand I had discovered that I was sure had inspired the
Keep Austin Weird
subculture. Blake sat quietly beside me. I could tell the adrenaline of the game had worn off, and fatigue was setting in. She was almost asleep when I pulled into the parking lot. I parked and then gently grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“Do you want me to get it to go? It can be to go.” Blake opened her eyes and looked around, first at the giant concrete statue of a frog in a sombrero, then at the picnic tables crowded with an eclectic mix of Austinites.

“No. I love this place. Let's grab that last table before it's taken,” she said, pointing to one beside the frog. She yawned and stretched. “I'm sorry I keep falling asleep around you.”

“Don't worry. Happens all the time. I seem to have that effect on the ladies. Puts a bit of a damper on my dating life, though.”

“Is that what this is, a date?” She halted her progress out of the truck and turned to look me straight in the eyes. “I'm sorry. That was kind of abrupt. I'm just trying to figure out what is going on with us. I've never… well, you seem to have an unusual effect on me, and I'm not sure how to categorize it.”

“Categorize. That sounds so scientific,” I teased. “How about we get some food into you before I go under the microscope? You look about ready to pass out, and if you insist on having such a serious conversation, I want you to be alert and able to remember it tomorrow.”

“Deal.” She hopped out of the truck and met me behind it. “But if you're making me wait, then you're buying. I love, well at least I used to love, their fish tacos here. Extra guacamole. And a Coke, please. I think I need a little caffeine.”

“I was planning on buying anyway, Blake. It would be an insult to the entire male Latino population if I took a girl out and let her pay her own way. We aren't very evolved when it comes to things like that.”

The outdoor restaurant was crowded and lively. Mariachi music blared from a speaker, and people were happily yelling at each other in their attempts to be heard. The last table had been taken, so Blake stood quietly beside me in the line, looking around, taking in the interesting mix of culture. After several minutes, her mouthed moved, but I couldn't hear what she said.

“What?” I leaned down closer to her. She repeated herself, but all I could hear was the trumpet music coming from the speaker next to my left ear. I leaned down farther, placing my arm around her waist to pull her closer until her mouth was right at my ear.

“I feel like I'm coming out of a coma. Look at all of this life! While I have been holed up in my cave, people have fallen in love and had babies and gotten piercings in unusual — and I gotta say — unsanitary places.”

I laughed, seeing the man in front of us with a chain connected to both his lip and navel.

“Life kind of ended for me for a while. It's shocking to see that it can still be so vibrant.” Her voice slipped to a whisper that I could just barely make out. “I don't want to be comatose anymore.”

“I won't let you,” I said into her hair. She nodded. Straightening up, I began to remove my arm from around her waist, but she stopped me and leaned back against my chest, still taking in the surroundings. The line advanced, and Blake moved with me, clinging to my arm like it was a life preserver. When we got to the front, I placed our order, glancing at Blake when she giggled. Raising my brows at her, I took her hand and we looked for a table.

“What's so funny?” I loved hearing her sound so happy. We stopped at a just-vacated table and sat down.

“You were ordering in Spanish. I've never heard you speak Spanish. You sounded so Mexican.”

“I am Mexican,
mija
,” I replied in thickly accented English. She giggled again.

“Wow. You should do that more often. It's very attractive.”

“Seriously? It's that easy? And to think I've had the key all along and not used it.” I took her hand across the picnic table and began speaking in Spanish. She watched me shyly, a half-smile on her face.

“What did you say?” she asked when I finished.

“You wanted to know what I thought about you, about us. So I told you.” It was obvious from her glare that she did not like my answer. I fought to keep a straight face. She really was cute when she was worked up.

“Well, that's just great,” she replied sarcastically. “I chose Latin over Spanish to increase my SAT scores and get into a good college where I could learn and know anything I wanted to learn and know, and now I can't understand what I want to know more than anything. I don't suppose you're going to translate?”

“No, it's your turn now.” I looked at her angelically and waited. She looked ready to argue the point and grumbled for a moment under her breath, her words lost in the noise surrounding us. Before she had a chance to speak, our food arrived, the tray dropped without ceremony in the middle of the table by a much-tattooed and grumpy-looking waitress. Good thing our drinks had secure lids or they would have spilled. Blake ignored the food and started to speak.

“No,” I told her. “Eat first, remember?”

She made a face but grabbed the plastic basket containing her food and took a bite. While she chewed she reached down and began writing on her napkin, using the small gold pencil she had stashed in her pocket to keep stats at the game.

“What are you doing?” I tried to read the napkin upside down. She shielded it with her arm.

“Making notes of the points I want to cover when we talk in a minute so I don't forget anything.” She didn't look up but continued to write, taking bites every now and then. I ate in silence, amused at the serious expression on her face and the intensity with which she approached the task. She had told me her dad had been a prosecuting attorney. I was guessing she was more like him than she thought.

“Should I prepare a statement?” I asked after a few minutes.

“If you can manage to do so in English,” she replied, looking up for an instant and flashing a mischievous smile at me. She wrote for another minute, then slammed her pencil onto the table. “Done!” She took another bite of her taco.

“How is it?” I asked, curious. She had eaten almost everything, with no coaxing from me.

“I think it covers all that I want to say, but…” Taking in my amused expression, she stopped. “Oh, you meant the food.” Blake looked at her almost-empty basket. “Did you eat part of it?”

“No, that was all you. Was it good?”

“I honestly don't know. I don't remember taking more than a few bites. I can't believe I ate that much, though. I can say this about it. It definitely did not taste like sawdust.”

Well, that was progress.

“Okay.” I pushed my tray away, my food also gone, “If you're ready to talk, then I'm ready to listen.”

Blake took a deep breath. “I guess I'm just going to lay all of my cards on the table. I don't want to hide anything from you or play any kind of game. It's not my style, and I don't think it's yours either.”

I nodded once in encouragement, and she continued, taking a deep shuddery breath. “This year has been a nightmare. After my parents were killed, I didn't want to live. I used to curl up under my covers at Joe and Mary's house and imagine ways to die.”

Those words sent tiny daggers into my heart, and I reached out and grabbed her hand again, holding it tightly in my own.

“On the outside, I guess I've done okay, going to school and eating and sleeping… well, not very well as you know, but at least functioning somewhat normally, if without emotion. But on the inside, I've been screaming like I'm on fire.”

My grip tightened even more on her hand.