Page 90 of Contested

Not to be loud, but to get Paula to feel it through the floor.

The door opened not long after, and she stood in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, eyebrows knotted. They loosened at the sight of Marcos, but only slightly.

She eyed him for a minute. ‘You look weird.’

Marcos looked down at himself. Dress pants. Shirt pulled on properly but sitting wrong at one shoulder because he had dressed too quickly in Sebastian’s room and hadn’t looked at himself properly to fix it.

His damp hair sat awkwardly and unkempt, and he ran his hand through it before lifting a shoulder. ‘Can I come in?’

Paula stood to the side, closing the door as Marcos stepped inside her room.

It was smaller than his, but neater in a way that always made him feel vaguely judged. Her bed was pushed against the wall, blanket folded back from where she had clearly been sitting under it rather than sleeping. The desk near the window held a laptop, homework books, and a small lamp that was the only light turned on, causing the room to sit on the cusp of darkness. The walls were plain with nothing cluttering them.

The only thing that did clutter was vinyls. They lined one shelf and half of another, stacked in neat rows with a few covers facing outward. Marcos had bought her the first one for her eighth birthday because he thought he was hilarious, giving his deaf sister a record she couldn’t hear. Paula had stared at him for almost a full minute before signing that he was an idiot, then kept it anyway.

So, he bought her more the next year, and it became a tradition. She complained every time and still cleared space on the shelf before her birthday came around.

Marcos crossed the room and lowered himself onto Paula’s bed. She sat on her desk chair and wheeled it a little closer to him, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. Her gaze studied his damp hair, then dropped to his dress pants.

‘Where did you go?’ she asked.

Marcos rubbed his palms along his thighs once. ‘To see a friend.’

‘Friend?’ Paula raised her eyebrow.

‘Not sure how else to describe it.’

Her eyes sharpened in that annoying way they always did when she was seeing more than Marcos was telling her. ‘Is she nice?’

Marcos let the question sit, not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he didn’t know if he was ready to tell Paula the truth. Not when he was still wrapping his own head around it. Not when Sebastian’s mouth still sat too clearly in his mind, along with the look on his face when he had thanked Marcos for staying. When he had asked him to take control.

Marcos looked at his hands.

He could lie. Though he knew Paula would be able to tell. The delay in his signing. The waver in his hands. The drop in his shoulders. There was always something she was able to latch onto.

So, he chose the easiest truth that wasn’t the whole truth.

‘Sometimes.’

Paula smiled. ‘Do you like her?’

Marcos’ hands stilled.

He had said it to Sebastian earlier. Had told him how he was feeling.

At the time, the words had sat strangely in his mouth. Not wrong. But new. Now, sitting in Paula’s room with his damp hair curling around his face and the night still warm under his skin, the answer felt heavier than it had before.

He thought of Sebastian at the door. Soft and smug and stupidly pleased with himself. Watching Marcos like he knew exactly what it meant that Marcos hadn’t run.

Marcos swallowed. ‘I think I do, yeah.’

Paula watched him, eyes sliding over his face. Then she leaned back in her chair. ‘Try not to be stupid then.’

Marcos blinked. ‘What?’

‘Don’t be stupid and mess it up.’

A chuckle slipped from Marcos’ lips as the weight in his chest eased a little.