When Reason Breaks (3 page)

A successful attorney and the town council chairman, Edwin Delgado, lived in the public spotlight, and so did the rest of his family, like it or not. Last year, Emily learned what he meant by “Any slipups will have consequences.” The slipup? Emily was featured on the Internet for all the wrong reasons. The consequences? A carefully written formal apology and mandatory volunteer hours at the community health center. She halfheartedly preached about the dangers of teen
drinking to delinquents required to be there. Afterward her father warned, “Don't embarrass me again.”

“Pop?” Emily called to her dad. He sat in his office, facing the computer, his back to her. He maneuvered the mouse with one hand and held his cell phone to his ear with the other.

He turned the phone away from his mouth and responded, “Yes?,” but didn't turn to face her.

“My friends are coming for a sleepover.
Necesito dinero
.” She wasn't sure why she was whispering. It's not like speaking softly would somehow interrupt him less.

He pinned the phone between his ear and shoulder and used his free hand to point to his wallet on a nearby table. She snagged a twenty and returned to the doorway. She wanted to thank him but didn't want to disturb his conversation again. She was about to leave without saying anything.

“Hold on, Luís,” her dad said. He put the phone on his desk and swiveled his chair to face her. “I don't recall your asking permission about this. Did you ask your mother?”

“Yes.”

“
Está bien
,” he said. “You're staying in the house all night.”

It wasn't a question.

“
Sí, señor
,” Emily confirmed.

“No boys or drinking or sneaking out.”

“Please, Pop. Do you honestly think we'd do that with both you and Mamá home?” With a smile, she added, “I mean, we might try those things if only Mom were home.”

“That's not funny,” he snapped. “We're responsible for those girls when they're under our roof.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, Judge Judy.”

Her dad smiled a bit. “I'm just saying, sometimes you kids don't think. It's that frontal lobe issue. Did you know your brain's not fully developed, which is why teens are so impulsive?”

“
Gracias
, Dr. Phil. I'll work out my frontal lobe in my spare time; make it nice and developed—buffed, even.”

He couldn't help but flash his contagious million-watt smile, the one that helped him to win local elections.

Emily smiled, too.

“Judge Judy and Dr. Phil?” he asked. “You couldn't think of cooler people?”

“They make serious money, Pop. Don't hate.”

“Okay then, a television job is now on my bucket list,” he said with a laugh. In a stern tone, he added, “Your room should be spotless if you're having company.”

“It is,” she said and backed out of his office.

On her way to the kitchen, Emily found her mom napping on the sectional in the family room. She snickered because Dr. Phil was on. Emily turned off the TV and put the prescription bottles on the end table into a drawer. Before leaving, she dragged a light cover over her mom and whispered, “Sweet dreams, Mamá.”

When the doorbell rang, Emily sprinted to answer it but stopped when she reached the door. Before she let Sarah and Abby back into her life after weeks at camp and vacation abroad, she pulled her shoulders back, circled a piece of hair around her ear, and smiled politely.

Hours later, the girls lounged in Emily's room, their bellies full.

“I didn't think both of your parents would be home,” said Sarah.

“They won't bother us, though. My dad's working and my mom's sleeping.”

“She's sleeping?” asked Abby. “Is she sick?”

“Kind of.”

Emily's mom saw a bunch of specialists and had lots of tests done. She swallowed a handful of pills every day. For what? Who knows? The medication made her feel better, but Emily didn't think it was curing anything.

Sarah grabbed Emily's hand and said, “You are in desperate need of a manicure.” She retrieved her oversize makeup
bag and dug out a hot-pink polish. As Sarah tended to Emily's nails, Abby modeled some of the clothes she bought in Europe. She waved her freshly polished fingers at her friends and said, “I went with my mom yesterday.”

“That's nice,” Emily said, and she meant it, thinking about her mom passed out on the sofa.

Abby buttoned a pair of red short-shorts and slipped a black shirt with winglike sleeves over her head. “She can be so embarrassing, though. She actually told me she was glad I went to Italy with my aunt, so that she and my dad could have some ‘alone time.' ” Abby stuck a finger into her mouth like she was forcing herself to vomit.

Sarah laughed but agreed, “That's gross.”

Emily's parents never acted like they wanted “alone time.”

“And she's always asking me about boys, like I'd ever tell her,” Abby continued. She slipped on a pair of black heels. “And speaking of boys. In Italy, they are …” She gathered her fingers to her lips, kissed them, and opened them as if she were throwing the kiss into the air “…
bellissimo
.”

Abby was the first of them to discover boys. Of course, boys had noticed Abby since grade school. She had long brown hair with caramel highlights, blue eyes, and long, lean-muscled legs she showed off whenever she got the chance. When Abby decided in middle school that boys weren't gross anymore, the girls entered a strange new world—ready or not. Sarah was ready. Emily was not.

It's not that she didn't notice boys. She had crushes and flirted. In eighth grade, she even dated a few guys, but she
broke up with each of them pretty quickly. Whenever Sarah or Abby nudged her to take the next step, she panicked and ended it, saying he was too short, too tall, too geeky, or too dumb. Really, she was scared.

She didn't want to be publicly dumped like Nicole Taylor was in the seventh grade. Anthony Ramos walked the entire length of the cafeteria one day and announced that Kent Miller was done with her. Nicole tried to act nonchalant, but she started to cry when Kent high-fived Anthony. No thanks. Getting dumped after opening your heart was bad enough, but then she'd have to relive the experience over and over once people posted and shared the pictures or videos, adding comments along the way.

And all of that would sooner or later be seen by Luís the tech-geek college student hired to answer phones, make copies, and scour the Internet for any mention of the Delgados, in particular her dad's cases and local politics. That's how she got into trouble last year.

Emily tried to stay on the romantic sidelines and cheer her friends on, but they always pulled her into the game.

“Remember when we tried hooking you up with Ben last year?” asked Sarah.

“Yeah, what a disaster,” said Emily.

“It didn't have to be. He called you every day,” said Abby.

“And I didn't know what to say. He talked a lot. I listened. He asked questions. I answered.”

“Awk-ward,” sang Sarah.

“Exactly.”

Emily wanted Ben to leave her alone, but when he did, she was surprised. When two days passed without a call or text, she played it off like she was relieved. She never admitted to her friends how conflicted she was.

“I still don't know what the problem was,” Abby said. “Ben really liked you.”

“I guess, but he wasn't ‘The One.' ”

“Why did he have to be ‘The One'? And anyway, how do you know? You didn't even give him a chance. He could have been your Romeo.”

“I don't want a Romeo,” said Emily.

“Every girl wants a Romeo,” Abby snapped.

“Romeo was in love with someone else and forgot all about her when he saw Juliet.”

“That other girl should have tried harder. You should have tried harder.”

They were all quiet for a minute. A conversation with Abby was often like living through a minor earthquake. It was too small to register on the Richter scale, but it definitely caused some damage.

“She tried with Kevin,” offered Sarah, who always tried to salvage whatever cracked during the tremor.

Abby smiled and put on a pair of large sunglasses. Emily giggled. If Abby tried to walk in heels and sunglasses, she'd probably land on her face. Emily secretly hoped it would happen.

“Yeah, so what about Kevin?” asked Abby. “Did you hear from him this summer?”

Abby pulled her sunglasses down her nose to get a good look at Emily.

“No.”

Abby held Emily's gaze for a moment, then pushed up her glasses and said, “That's too bad.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Emily focused on Sarah as she applied another coat of polish, but her mind was on that party in June, the last big one before freshman year ended.

Sarah and Abby had pulled Emily into this group-dance thing that was more like drunken swaying. Abby had kept nudging her toward Kevin. When Emily was close enough, he had wrapped his arms around her waist.

Emily glanced over her shoulder, where Abby smiled and gave her the thumbs-up sign. Emily looked down and shifted from side to side. She focused on the music and tried to ignore Kevin's hand stroking the center of her back.

Dizzy from the beer and the hot air in the cramped basement and the fact that his body was pressed up against hers, Emily had tried to pull it together. She clutched his shoulders to steady herself, and Kevin responded by tightening his grip around her waist. His hips moved against hers. She followed his lead. Emily buried her flushed face in his shoulder, and he slowly steered them away from the group to an open spot by a wall.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm just hot,” she said and fanned herself with both hands.

“Don't move.” While he was gone, she remembered to
breathe. He returned with a cup of beer. She drank half of it in a few swallows. He smiled and leaned into her, his mouth next to her ear. She inhaled sharply and then let the breath out steadily when her lungs started to burn.

“Is it true?” he had asked. He smelled pungent and sweet at the same time, a combination of cologne mixed with sweat.

“What?”

“That you've never been kissed—really kissed?” Emily's stomach muscles tightened. Abby and Sarah were the only people who knew this, or so she thought.

Almost everyone had some experience, even if they hadn't gone all the way yet. She had avoided it all, but now she was embarrassed by her never-been-kissed status. She saw Abby and Sarah across the room, whispering and pointing in an oh-my-god sort of way. She looked down again and nodded.

“I think that's sweet.” He rubbed the tip of his nose over her cheek. Her whole body clenched and started to tingle. With his forefinger, he lifted her chin. She didn't pull away. His soft lips pressed against hers. His tongue parted her lips, and they kissed, really kissed, for what seemed like forever but was actually only a few seconds.

When they stopped, he asked, “Do you want to get out of here?” Emily shook her head, no. Her heart pounded, revealing the truth. He smiled faintly, grabbed her hand, and led her back to the party.

The guys exchanged fist-bumps while Sarah and Abby encircled Emily and pelted her with questions. As they moved away from the boys, Abby said, “Hold on.” She ran back to
Kevin, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward her. She whispered something in his ear and squeezed his hand.

“What was that?” asked Emily.

“Nothing,” Abby had said. But Emily knew it was something.

“Hey, Abby, what did you say to Kevin that night?” she asked.

“I don't remember,” Abby said, waving her hand.

“It's too bad that didn't go anywhere,” Sarah said and blew again on Emily's nails.

“Yeah, well, I wasn't surprised. I mean, the picture Abby took of us ended up all over the Internet and that troll Luís sent it to my dad.”

They all laughed hard.

“It wasn't funny.” Emily wiped a tear that seemed to be from laughter.

“I'm sorry, but Prince Harry got naked in Vegas and he's still royalty,” said Abby. “They didn't, like, demote him, or anything. Your dad is a town councilman, not the president. Come on, you're going to kiss people and have a couple of drinks. He needs to get a grip.”

“My dad's a
lawyer
and the council
chairman
,” said Emily. “We were drinking
illegally
in someone's house when they were out of town. Plus, we were supposed to be at the movies before crashing at your house. If you want to try to convince him all of that is totally normal, I'll get him now.”

“Uh, no thanks. I don't want to be cross-examined. Sounds painful,” Abby said, and they all laughed again. Abby
was done showing off her new clothes, so she changed into pajama pants and a tank top and joined them on the bed. “I'm so sorry about what happened with your dad. I still feel like a jerk for posting that picture, but I was so excited for you and it just happened. I really wasn't thinking.”

“Wasn't the first time and won't be the last,” added Sarah.

“Hey,” Abby said and slapped Sarah lightly on the leg.

Emily settled into the pillow behind her and smiled, picturing the three of them much younger, with pigtails and missing front teeth. The dynamics were the same, though. Abby had always acted like the big sister, leading them along like she knew the way and being blunt “for their own good.” She always said, “Best friends say something when you have lipstick on your teeth. I'm not going to let you walk around looking or acting stupid.” Sarah was like the eye-rolling middle sister who always put Abby in her place and made Emily feel better. They fought sometimes, like sisters do, but they always protected each other. At least, they used to.