"This revolution, it has people scared."

"Revolution is a scary word," He murmured. With her head pressed against his chest, she could not see his face. Could not tell if it was a question or a statement. He shifted under her, and she heard his steady heart-beat. For him, it was no question, not even a fact to be spoken. Revolution sat calmly on his tongue, a solid force of nature, like the first rain of spring on parched Texas fields. It simply was.

"Yes," She whispered finally, not knowing what else to say. The sun warmed his tan skin.

"It's not the revolution that's really scary," He said in the same distant tones.

"It was plenty scary to me," she whispered quietly. When the first bullets had gone off, I'd thought in one irrational instant that you had been shot, or that you had shot me. Now, he might as well have.

"No, it's what comes afterward that'll be really scary. After the marches, after the glass is cleared off the street. The scariest moment comes when they stop and have to ask, 'what now?'."

He sighed, his voice flat, "We don't have shit, Katey. The Anglos are going to leave, and take everything with them. Havanna's going to hell."

I shivered, hearing the anger and the sadness in his voice. Managed to whisper, "Come with me, then. Back to Miami."

He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. He smiled slightly and shook his head, "Even if we could, Katey, even then, I wouldn't be able to go. I couldn't live with myself. I don't want a revolution, I want a nation that is proud of me, that I can be proud of."

He paused, "Can you understand that?"

I stared at his soft brown eyes, at the way the sun embraced the angles of his nose and sighed, "This island, it will always be your first love. Won't it?"

Javier shook his head, "No, it's not that. She's… this island is mi mother, Katey. I can love you and Cuba, I do love you and Cuba. But I have to…I can't just abandon mi madre when she needs me. It's my duty. Entiende usted?"

"Si, entiendo," I said quietly. Yes, I understand. I could understand loving this land in your bones. This island had given me my love, my dance. This sun that burned me knew its sun and turned his skin to bronze. These beaches that threw sand in my eyes comforted his feet as he walked along them. And I was grateful for even the lesser moments this land had given me. To be connected to some ideal, that was how I wanted to feel, the reason that I loved him. I bit my lip gently, hesitant, "If, if I were to stay, what would your mother do to me?"

He couldn't hold my gaze, "Katey, you have to go home to be with su familia. Go back to Miami. Back to your home."

I held onto his arm, feeling with my fingertips the warmth of him, the warmth his eyes would not give me, "Are you ashamed of me, Javier?"

Finally, he met my eyes, his eyes fierce as they'd only been once before while dancing, and fierce the way they were when he spoke of Cuba. "I am never ashamed. I could never be ashamed of you. Juro isto a você."

He smiled, "I swear this to you, Katey. Juro isto a voce. Juro isto."

"Then I will stay."

"No, Katey. That's the way it is."

"Javier, you said, you said that my people were going to all go away and take everything with them. And not just the things, but they'll take away all the government and the education. You taught me how to dance…"

She paused, seeing his face contorted, "Javier, I don't know this place like you do, but I know it better than anyplace else. And I want to be there, for you at least. Let me try to teach what I can, be a face to the outside world."

He wrapped his arms around her, silencing her. "Love's not worth this, Katey. Don't do this just because of me. If you're going to stay here, you have to want to."

She sighed, "I am here with you, Javier. Because I believe in what you stand for."

He kissed the top of her forehead gently, staring at the top of her sun-bleached hair. "I'm sorry, Javier," She whispered quietly.

"It's okay," He said finally, knowing without another word how she felt.

"I can't leave you, Javier. I can't go back to being just some bored American teenager. I'm sorry for that."

"I will never regret this, juro isto."

"I'm sorry I don't know Spanish," She said, her voice muffled by his chest.

He laughed quietly, laughed from deep in his chest. "You'll learn soon enough. You'll stop burning also."

She looked up at him quietly, smiling, "Now, be realistic, Javier. I'm always going to burn."

"Then I will learn to love red skin also."

She smiled, and ran her fingers through his hair. Suddenly, she sat up, "I have to tell my parents."

"Si," He said, not moving.

"No, Javier, I have to go now and tell my parents," She glanced up at the rising sun over their heads, obscured by the cabana canvas, "Deos Meos! There's not enough time!"

He grabbed her arm, kissed it sweetly, "Relax, Katey. There's more than enough time. The planes won't be cleared for a few more hours after they're supposed to be packed up."

She nodded hastily, reaching for the dress discarded in the desperate confusion of the last night. He reached towards his own clothing and struggled to button his shirt up. He paused, feeling her hands cover his own. She smiled, gently slipping the button through each hole with practiced grace.

"So how nervous are you, Javier?"

"About?"

She simply pursed her lips, her blue eyes steely. He sighed, "Not for what happens next, Katey."

She nodded, and patted his chest gently, the last button finished. He was always confident, her rock and base when she needed him.

He pushed open the door to the cabana, harsh sunlight burning her eyes temporarily. He was silhouetted by the sunlight in gold, and has he looked down on her she felt a stab in her chest. His profile, his shoulders, he was a man that built the cities and discovered fire. And when he asked her, "Coming?", in a level voice, his hand outstretched, she had no choice but to take it. Walk out into the sun with him.