Author's note:
Dark themes ahead! Abuse mentioned. Hope you enjoy!
Edit: (changed a minor detail to fix a plot hole)
"Buenos días, Kenji," Mrs. Gutierrez greets as he and Mr. Gutierrez come back from checking on the cattle.
"Buenos días, Mrs. Gutierrez," Kenji says. He was beginning to get used to simple Spanish phrases and words. It was when the family went entirely Spanish—which he would say was fifty percent of their conversation—that he stopped understanding. He had learned the simple greetings, the good mornings and nights, the pleases and thank yous. He even knew "shut up" in Spanish. In a house with multiple crazy uncles and many sisters, that was a phrase that popped up quite often.
"How's the herd doin'—AH!" Mrs. Gutierrez starts to ask, before yelping while jumping.
Her husband crouches down and picks up a robotic tarantula. "Aight, who's the culprit?"
"Not me, I hate tarantulas," Kenji says.
"How you supposed to protect your woman from spiders, then?" Mr. Gutierrez asks.
"I like tarantulas," Sammy shrugs. "Plus, he put his hand in a nest of tarantulas to save Darius in a simulation, which was BOSS!"
"Thank you," Kenji smirks at her, remembering that competition.
"You can deal with the cockroaches," Sammy says, shuddering in disgust.
"Will do," he salutes her.
"Aight, then who is it?" Mr. Gutierrez sighs, still not knowing who had pulled the prank.
"Totally wasn't me," Abuela says mischievously, not even bothering to hide the remote controller in her pocket as she went to sit down at the table. As she sits down in the chair, a loud, particularly funny sounding noise echoes against the chair. Sandra and Shelby start laughing hysterically.
"Ha, ha, I guess I deserved that," Abuela laughs, pulling a whoopie cushion out from under her.
"Where did you two get that?" Mr. Gutierrez asks his youngest daughters. "You know you're not allowed to have those things!"
"Wait, that's a rule?" Kenji whispers to Sammy.
"Let's just say, bathroom pranks got out of hand, so Papa banned the use of whoopie cushions," Miriam explains.
"You guys told me you broke your last one!" Kenji crosses his arms at the younger girls.
"We did!" Shelby grins. "We just didn't tell you why we couldn't get another one."
"You stinkers!" Kenji laughs, chasing the two around the breakfast table.
"Of course, you're the one who supplies them with prank materials," Holly smiles dryly. Her tone was accusative.
"Psh, Abuela is more of a threat there than Kenji," Sammy retorts. "She pulls more pranks daily than the six of us combined!"
"That I do," Abuela says proudly as the group sits down for breakfast.
The family is about to join hands and pray, when Mr. Gutierrez stands up. "Shoot, forgot about Darius."
"No, you didn't," his wife chuckles. "He's over at his house, remember? It's Saturday, Grace can stay at home with him."
"Oh, phew!" Sammy's father chuckles, sitting back down. "Was worried there for a second."
"Only two more days until we start school," Kenji says. The girls groan. "What? I'm actually excited to start school here," Kenji shrugs.
"I like school, I just like our critters more," Miriam says. "It's calving season, so soon the cows will be givin' birth."
"Why don't we pray for a good restart to school next week and that the cows will give birth to healthy babies?" Mrs. Gutierrez says.
The family starts praying. Just like every day since he had come, Kenji prays for his friends. For him, it wasn't about God or anything religious. As the week had passed, it had become more like therapy, as well as a way for him to collect his thoughts and feelings about his friends. He had been worrying about all his friends, particularly Yasmina and Brooklynn. Kenji had had recurring thoughts to pray for both of them, and for things that seemed strange. Even before Brooklynn had admitted to Yasmina being depressed and suicidal, Kenji had known. At first, he had pushed it away as paranoia, but after hearing that it was true, he was starting to become more in tune with those thoughts. Sammy had suggested that God was speaking to him, while Darius suggested that he was a lot more perceptive than he gave himself credit for. Brooklynn's explanation was that the campers were better connected than they had previously thought.
Either way, Kenji was wrestling with another thought that had been plaguing him. A dreadful thought that Yasmina was under attack. He knew she was physically safe with the Pincus's, and there were no underlying medical conditions that could kill her that they knew of. Even so, he had this feeling that she was under attack and in danger. He had the same feeling about Brooklynn, but not as strong. Perhaps he was thinking of negative thoughts attacking them…
"I pray for Yasmina and Brooklynn to be healed from negative thoughts and anything attacking them," Kenji says, praying a short prayer and passing it onto Sandra.
Kenji was thankful that they weren't forcing him to pray or be religious. Abuela had told him that the first day, and after breakfast that day, Mrs. Gutierrez had pulled him aside and made sure that he didn't feel forced to pray. It was a family thing, and a Christian thing, and if he didn't feel like doing it, he didn't have to. He chose to do it, even though he didn't believe in the God he was praying to. Every time someone would pray, it would almost spark more prayer in the next person. Whenever he would pray for Yasmina and Brooklynn, it would spark the Gutierrez's to pray for them. He was happy about that. Each of them had a unique way of seeing it, and hearing their own prayers on the subject was helping him slowly figure out what he was feeling.
Their prayers also revealed things about each member. Sandra's was sweet and simple and innocent. She almost reminded Kenji of Sammy in the way she saw things. Shelby was sweet and innocent in her prayers, but was super blunt about everything. While the six year old was really sweet, her more black and white way of looking at things left those in question feeling… judged. She didn't mean it, but Kenji could tell that Sammy felt judged by her younger sister.
Miriam's prayers were about Yasmina and Brooklynn feeling loved and accepted. Part of Kenji wondered if she was struggling with that herself, just like Sammy. Rio's concerned him. She prayed for security and peace and a lack of anxiety and trauma. The way she prayed led Kenji to wonder if she had a firsthand outlook on those topics. She was the one sister who didn't judge him, but didn't try to get to know him either. She was super shy and nervous around him, and he wouldn't be surprised to find out she struggled with anxiety.
Holly's prayer centered closer to what Kenji was feeling: attacks. She prayed for liberation from depression and negative attacks. She also prayed against bullies and Leah and anyone trying to attack Yasmina and Brooklynn. It was during the bullies part that he could feel her hard stare on him. He knew that she disliked him. He wasn't entirely sure why. Kenji knew that she wasn't particularly fond of all the girlfriends he had had in his past, but she seemed to dislike him with a passion. "Maybe she had a bad boyfriend experience and she's overprotective…" Kenji theorizes as Abuela finishes up the prayer line.
After breakfast, Kenji's job is to stay inside and help clean the dishes. Abuela and Mrs. Gutierrez wanted him to stay off his feet and let his toe heal. His job for the time being was to clean the kitchen and table with Rio. The boy thought it would be the perfect time to try to get to know the shy girl.
"You need to keep your toe elevated," Rio says quietly as he begins to wash the dishes.
"How about this?" Kenji grins, lifting his left leg and putting it awkwardly on the kitchen counter. "Elevated enough?"
She giggles, and continues to bring him more breakfast dishes.
"You're an awfully quiet girl, Rio," Kenji says, nicely. "Are you shy or are you scared of me?"
"I'm just shy," she says quietly, brushing back her brown hair. "I'm not exactly good with… new people. Rather stay in my shell. You're a nice guy, and I think you'd be great for Sammy. But I'm just… shy."
"Ah, okay," Kenji nods. "She sounds exactly like Yaz," he thinks. "I heard you playing the violin last night. How long have you been playing it?"
"Not even three months," she mumbles. "I picked it up after Sammy… after I thought Sammy was dead."
"You're kidding? You sound months ahead!" Kenji says.
"You're exaggerating," she murmurs.
"Nuh uh!" Kenji insists. "You're really good!"
Rio gives him a small smile, and goes back to cleaning the table. Kenji lets the conversation fall, knowing that it wasn't ideal to push people who were super shy too quickly. Unless you were Sammy.
After cleaning the dining room and kitchen, Rio's job was to clean the rest of the house with Sandra. Despite his protests, Kenji's job was to sit on the couch and elevate his broken toe. He felt lazy and unhelpful, no matter how much the women argued with him about it. The boy knew that he needed to heal his toe, but that didn't stop him from wanting to do something. He felt restless, as well as entitled. Watching the rest of the family do chores and help out on the ranch while he laid on the couch felt wrong.
On the other hand, he did enjoy sitting down and not doing anything. For the past week, it had been going, going, going. And if he wasn't doing chores or checking the cattle or riding a bull, he was being questioned and tested. Kenji endured, but it was still mentally exhausting.
"Enjoying your lazy time?" Holly asks casually, but her tone left Kenji feeling bad.
"You didn't hear my ten minutes worth of arguing with Sammy, your Mom, and Abuela?" he asks.
"Oh, only ten minutes?" Holly asks innocently.
"If you wanna tell me that you dislike me, just say it," Kenji groans, wishing she would just tell him what was wrong instead of intimidating him and skirting around the problem.
"No, we're cool," she shrugs.
"We're cool?" Kenji asks dubiously.
"We're cool," Holly insists, taking a sip of water.
"Okay," Kenji says, leaning his head back on the couch arm.
"F. Y. I," Holly starts up.
"There it is," Kenji mutters under his breath.
"Here on the ranch, we work hard," Holly says, harshly. "There's no time for being lazy."
Kenji works to control his temper. She could feed him to the coyotes like she had threatened to. "I would rather be out helping around the ranch than sitting here on the couch."
"We also don't like complainers," Holly adds.
"What the?!" Kenji tschs. "You're trying to find reasons to dislike me, aren't you?!"
"I ain't gotta look hard for that, boy," she huffs.
"Everyone else likes me but you," Kenji says. "Sammy trusts me. Your Papa trusts me. Abuela trusts me."
"Don't get too cocky," Holly hisses. "Boys like you are no good. You guys come in, get what you want, and then leave a huge mess for the girls and their families to clean up. And if you could do it once, you can do it again."
Kenji sighs and closes his eyes. "She's really holding my past against me," he thinks tiredly. "Why, why, why? What happened to you…"
"You're acting very petty," Kenji calls her out. Usually, he kept his thoughts to himself and didn't hit back when someone said something negative about him. But Holly was being petty, finding reasons to dislike him. First, she told him he couldn't be lazy, then told him he couldn't complain when he did want to help and couldn't do it. He thought it was high time he stuck up for himself.
Holly glares at him, then takes a pillow and whacks him in the face. "And you're a lazy, entitled, playboy who's goin' to use Sammy for your own personal gain, then get rid of her once it suits you! Tell me I'm wrong."
Kenji's jaw tightens. On one hand, he wanted to deny it. He would never do that to Sammy, or any of his other friends, for that matter. The boy had had nightmares about that, and it made him choke up in pain and fear. On the other hand… he had acted that way before… "What if I haven't changed? What if I'm kidding myself? What if she's right, and I will hurt Sammy? Is she right?!"
"Thought so," Holly growls, taking his silence as proof. "Who are you kidding, thinking that you'll be able to win her heart and keep it? I've seen what boys like you can do, and I'm not about to let Sammy experience it. Even if that means your missing signs all over the town. Especially if it means your missing signs around the town."
Kenji holds back tears as he stares up at her silently. Sammy's oldest sister heads out the back, leaving Kenji alone with his thoughts. "Would it be better for Sammy if I just left? Is Holly right?"
Kenji takes a deep breath in. "No, she's the one who's hurt. Something's happened to her to make her feel this way about you. You haven't hurt Sammy, and even Sammy's father likes you. If he didn't like you, there would be a problem. It's Holly with the issue."
Thinking out loud, he says: "What are your secrets, Holly Addie Gutierrez?"
"She still sleeps with a teddy bear!" Shelby exclaims, popping up behind him.
"Oh, is that her biggest secret?" Kenji grins, relaxing and laughing as the six year old nods eagerly.
"Ben!" a terrified voice screams.
Ben startles and snaps to attention. His head whips around, quickly examining his surroundings. He was back in the jungles of Isla Nublar. It was night and all the trees cast eerie shadows around him. There was a dark grey, almost black fog looming around him. The fog hid the trees and kept Ben from being able to see anything beyond the clearing he was sitting in. In the distance, he heard an ominous fog horn, as if a ship was approaching. But he couldn't tell where it was coming from. As the sound slowly, agonizingly surrounded him, Ben was sure he didn't want to get on whatever ship was making that sound.
"Ben!" the cry for help comes again.
In the fog and foreboding horn, it was hard to pinpoint where the cry came from. The pitch of the cry was so high; Ben could only guess that it was female. "Sammy? Brooklynn?!" he calls.
"BEN!" the wail comes, this time, pain and sorrow mixed in with the raw fear.
"Yaz!" Ben calls out, now knowing who was calling him. In blind panic, he begins to run, searching for his friend. He had never heard her cry like that; never had Yasmina ever hit that pitch or cried in such fear.
Tree limbs and leaves whip across his face, arms, and legs as he tears through the jungle, madly searching for Yasmina. "Yaz!" he shouts, spinning around wildly as the jungles disorient him.
"BEN!" Yasmina shouts again.
Ben turns in her direction and runs. He tumbles through the bushes and falls on the ground panting. Why was he so out of breath and tired? Why did he feel so weak?!
Yasmina screams again and Ben looks up. She was on her hands and knees, trying to crawl away from a hideous monster. It had large, dragon-like horns and an exposed deer skull as its face. Its eyes glowed yellow within its black sockets. The creature had long rows of sharp, jagged teeth lining its jaw. The teeth were coated in blood. The forearms were unnervingly human, with scorpion claws at the end. It's back, legs, and tail were unmistakably those of the Scorpius rex.
Yasmina lifts her head and spots Ben. Her hair was a tangly, bloody mess, and blood trickled out of her mouth and down her chin. Her arms had long claw marks on them and blood was seeping from around her neck, staining her gray jacket garnet red. "Ben," she whispers, gasping for air.
"Yasmina," he whispers in horror.
Two more of the ghastly creatures crawl out of the bushes and surround her. Exhausted, Yasmina lets her body slump to the ground and she defeatedly covers her head with her arms. The monsters close in on her.
"Yasmina!" Ben shouts, desperately trying to reach her. His legs and arms felt like lead; he felt like he was running through mud! Ben tries to crawl to her, but it's a slow process. The gruesome monsters start to lean in closer.
"Yaz!" he screams, panting from the effort of trying to reach her. His vision begins to get blurry, and he feels around for his glasses, despite the fact that he could see perfectly fine the moment before.
One of the monsters turns Yasmina over to lay on her back. She gives him one last, pleading look and stretches out her hand for help. Ben struggles to get to her, but his legs and arms refuse to move. "I trusted you," Yasmina croaks softly, slowly drawing her arm back. Tears slowly dripped down her face and the look of pain on her face tears Ben apart.
"NO!" he shouts as the monster snaps its jaws around her neck.
Ben feels something hard hit his face and he sits up straight, panting in fear. He was back in his bedroom. The boy turns to his right. Yasmina was sitting up and eyeing him in concern. Her left hand held her cellphone to her chest and her right arm was ready to slap him again. "Hey, you okay?" she asks. "You were whimpering and screamed my name."
"Nightmare," Ben murmurs, his heart slowing.
"Sorry, Ben had a bad dream," Yasmina says, answering the phone as he lays back down. "... Yeah, we're in the same room… Well, yeah, I'm not going to kick him out of his own bed, and he wouldn't let me sleep on the floor… Mom, nothing's happening between us, it's not romantic—No! We get nervous when we're separated, why would we sleep in separate rooms? … No, it's fine, Mom, you don't—No, don't tell Dad and Ghaleb! … Hey, Dad…"
Ben chuckles. "Oh, no," he grins.
Yasmina nods in agreement, absentmindedly. "No, nothing is happening between us, we're just friends! … Dad, it's fine! You know I don't like the idea of romance! … If Ben tried anything on me, he would mysteriously disappear… Dad… No, Ben would never do that to me… No…" she says hesitantly, almost as if she was lying. "That's never happened to me… No, all three of the boys are trustworthy… Yeah, I know I don't trust people easily… They proved themselves to me on the island… they all did…"
Ben smiles, but it's thin. After that nightmare, he was a bit anxious. "Is her trust well put in me?" an anxious voice asks in the back of his head.
"Hey, Ghaleb," Yasmina half laughs, half groans. "No, nothing is happening between me and Ben, oh my gosh… Yes, I'm sure. He's a nice guy… What do you want to say? … No, I wanna know! … Fine."
Yasmina holds out her cellphone. "Ghaleb wants to talk to you."
Ben nervously takes the phone.
"Put it on speakerphone," she mouths.
Ben does and sighs. "Hey, Ghaleb."
"Hello, Benjamin," Ghalbe says formally in an attempt to be intimidating. "How is life?"
Ben glances over at Yasmina, who was trying to not giggle too loudly, lest her brother figure out that he was on speakerphone. "Uhh, it's been good?"
"Just good?" Ghaleb asks.
"It's been great?" Ben asks, confused by this turn of events.
"All right," the older boy says, suspicious. "How is Yasmina doing?"
"She's good," Ben says, looking to her for guidance. She merely shrugs.
"Good, how?"
"Um, feeling better. She's using her crutches sometimes. And she's working through things."
"What things?"
Yasmina crosses her arms. "Yeah, what things?" her stare and shrug communicated.
"Grief, loss," Ben starts to list. "Depression. Anger."
Ghaleb chuckles over the phone. "Yeah, that's the list. How is she working through it?"
"Opening up more," Ben says. "Laughing more."
"She's opening up?" Ghaleb asks dubiously. Yasmina rolls her eyes, but she knew his disbelief was fairly placed.
"Yeah," Ben nods.
"You're not forcing her to, are you?"
"Nope. I'm letting her open up at her own pace. I can't force her to do anything."
Ghaleb sighs over the phone. "Look, I dislike you, and I don't trust you with my sister, but… Yasmina trusts you. And that's almost impossible to earn. I don't like you, but you were both on that island, and…" he sighs in frustration. "She needs people she can trust, and someone she can relate to. I don't trust you… but I can't run you off. Not until you actually give me a real reason to. Just… I'm not trusting you, I'm trusting that Yasmina knows how to handle herself. Don't break her trust. You got me, Ben?"
"I do," Ben nods.
"K, good," Ghaleb says. "All right, I wanna talk to Yazzy."
"What now, you overprotective shrimp?" Yasmina teases.
"Was I on speakerphone?!" Ghaleb snaps. Yasmina laughs.
Ben heads to the bathroom to shower. Ghaleb's words and his nightmare weigh heavily on his heart as Ben showers. "Am I unworthy of Yasmina's trust?" Ben wonders as he dries off. "Am I too weak against the demonic forces coming against her?"
Ben sighs, wraps a bathrobe around him, and stands in the doorway of his room. Yasmina was still talking to her family. They had called her every morning for the past four days since she had arrived, just to check up on her. This call was particularly long. Ben leans on the doorway, listening to Yasmina's side of the conversation.
"Aw, I never get to know anything in the family," Yasmina says jokingly, but the look on her face was anything but joking. "Everyone always finds out before me. I'm the last to know… Nah, I'm fine. It doesn't bother me."
Ben looks at her expression. Her eyebrows knitted together, and her eyes blinked rapidly; glistening with tears. She was biting her upper lip. "You don't look fine with it…" he thinks.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I always have my headphones in and my nose stuck in a book or I'm drawing in my sketchbook and I never listen," she sighs. "... Yeah, I know. I didn't get to know about Roxie because I was on Isla Nublar, and you guys get to know when moving day is because you're in the house… No, I get it… No, I'm not bothered…"
"Just tell them you're bothered… Maybe things would be better," Ben thinks.
"Yeah, I gotta go, too," Yasmina says, looking at Ben. "... Okay… Yep… Okay, Beebee… Okay, ahabakum jamieana."
"Aha what?" Ben asks as she hangs up.
"'I love you all' in Arabic," she explains, wheeling her wheelchair out of the room. "I'm pretty sure… Over the six years since we've left Islam, we've slowly forgotten Arabic. I might be saying it wrong…"
"Oh, so you were bilingual years ago?" Ben asks with interest.
"Mm, sort of?" she shrugs questioningly. "My dad…" her voice lowers at the mention of him. "My biological father made us learn Arabic so we could study the Quran. So we sort of spoke it when I was a kid…" She shakes her head, and decides not to talk about him. "But like I said, due to lack of use, we've forgotten most of it. Other than knowing simple phrases and being able to correctly pronounce names, I don't know Arabic."
"Didn't you give Darius a nickname in Arabic?" he asks.
"That's in Urdu, which is spoken in Pakistan," she explains. "I think? I get interested in languages and whatnot, especially since it is my heritage, but I don't retain enough to be bilingual or an expert."
He laughs. "Yeah, I aspire to learn my ancestral languages, but don't get around to being fully multilingual."
"What's your real ancestry?" Yasmina asks. "I know you were adopted… Am I bothering you by asking that?"
"You're good," Ben shrugs. "We're not sure, honestly. Somewhere in Europe, we're guessing. I've wanted to take an ancestry test, but never got around to it."
"That would be fun to do," Yasmina smiles. "Maybe that could be a group project for all of us. Figure out what we are. That's always fun."
"Yeah," Ben nods. "You could text the group about it. Hate to interrupt this lovely conversation, but can I get dressed?"
Yasmina laughs in embarrassment as she realizes he was wearing a bathrobe. "Sorry," she apologizes, leaving him to get dressed.
After breakfast, the two head with Mrs. Pincus to the store. She stops by to pick up Ben's new prescription. "Here you go," she says, handing him a bag. "Your new glasses. What was it again that damaged your eyes?"
Ben quickly takes the bag and hides it under the seat. "The dilophosaurus," he hisses, sending a silent plea to his mother to stop talking about his glasses.
She doesn't catch on quickly. "Ah, well, now you can see."
"Sh!" Ben hisses, glancing at Yasmina who was on her phone.
"Huh?" she asks innocently, looking up from her phone.
"Nothing," Ben shrugs, and she goes back to texting Brooklynn. He widens his eyes at his mother, daring her to mention the subject again. She finally drops it. Ben glances at Yasmina, who didn't seem to notice the exchange. He silently sighs with relief, dreading the idea of her knowing he had glasses. He didn't know why, though…
They arrive at the store, and Ben helps Yasmina out of the car. It was easier for her to bring her crutches instead of bringing around a wheelchair, but she wasn't happy about it. Her lack of motivation to walk around saddened Ben. It was even sadder that she didn't protest to him helping her and staying near her. Yasmina just wasn't the same…
The two wander around the store while Mrs. Pincus shops, bored. As they walk, Ben glances over at Yasmina and realizes something. "I is taller than you," he grins, speaking with a child-like vocabulary.
"You is?" she quirks an eyebrow.
"I is taller than you," he smiles, standing directly in front of her and holding his hand above his head. He was about two inches taller than her now.
"Fine, you is taller than me," she rolls her eyes, making him grin with delight. "How tall were you when I first met you?"
"About five, four," Ben says.
"I'm five, five," Yasmina says. "Are you trying to tell me you grew two to three inches taller in three months?"
Ben shrugs. "We'll have to measure me when we get home."
"Yep, then we'll see if you actually is taller than me," she says teasingly.
"Yes, I has grown taller than you," he grins back.
"I has found a mirror," Yasmina laughs, pointing to the tiny, cute mirror hanging in the aisle.
"I has found shampoo," Ben says, pointing to the small aisle in front of them.
"I has found stuff that makes Darius uncomfortable," Yasmina cackles, pointing to the feminine products in the same section.
Ben laughs. "Kinda wish I was there to see his reaction the first time."
The two find Ben's mother in line to check out. "Is there anything you two need?" she asks.
"Nope," Ben shrugs.
Yasmina uncomfortably looks down at the ground. "Yasmina, sweetie, is there something you need?" Mrs. Pincus asks.
The girl feels uncomfortable talking, but works up the courage to do so. "Um… do you have any… feminine supplies?"
"No, I stopped doing that years ago," Mrs. Pincus says. "You can get some if you need it."
"No, I shouldn't need anything for a bit," Yasmina says, embarrassed.
"Well, we can buy some, just in case," Ben's mother says sweetly.
"I… I can get it for you, if you don't want to walk all the way back there," Ben offers, despite feeling out of his element.
Yasmina tells him what to get under her breath, and the boy heads off, hoping he could find what she needed without messing it up.
Yasmina awkwardly leans on her crutches near Mrs. Pincus, not sure what to say. "You seem pretty comfortable talking to Ben about things like this," the woman remarks.
"We've had… experiences… with this…" Yasmina stutters.
"Ah, I figured," Mrs. Pincus nods. "Still somewhat funny that you're more comfortable talking to a boy about this than a woman."
"Well, I know him…" Yasmina mumbles, feeling the need to come to her defense. "I don't talk about it to strangers…"
"I wasn't criticizing you, it's okay," the woman smiles. "I understand that. I just thought it was funny."
Yasmina nods.
"I hear that you like to draw," Mrs. Pincus continues, trying to make conversation.
"I-I'm not very good," Yasmina stutters.
"Nonsense, your Mom showed me some of your sketchbook drawings while you guys were on the island," she smiles. "You're very good."
"You think so?" Yasmina asks.
"Definitely," Mrs. Pincus says, blowing a wisp of dark brown hair out of her face.
Yasmina lets the conversation fall. After a few minutes of silence—the store was particularly busy—Mrs. Pincus picks it back up. "Look, I know you're very introverted and take a long time to open up and trust people," she says. "Trust is something to earn, and I'm willing to take the time to earn yours, at a pace you're comfortable with. But you don't have to feel like you can't ask me for something. If you're hungry, or thirsty, or need something from the store, you can tell me. I won't bite."
Yasmina forces a chuckle. The phrase "I won't bite" seemed to ring in a different way after spending time on Isla Nublar. "Okay…" she mumbles.
"Okay, I'm back," Ben says. "Did I pick the right stuff? Had to ask a group of teen girls what was best, which was kind of embarrassing."
"That's perfect," Yasmina chuckles.
The three head back to the house. On the way, Mrs. Pincus finally hits on a subject that gave her common ground with the shy girl. "Are you going to sell your water paintings or move them with us?" Ben asks out of curiosity.
"Water paintings?" Yasmina asks.
"I like to do watercolor paintings in my spare time," Mrs. Pincus explains. "Most of them, I end up selling and giving the money to a charity."
"Oh," Yasmina says, impressed. "Paints frustrate me."
"Oh, yeah?" Mrs. Pincus asks, sharing a smile with Ben through the rear view mirror. "Why's that?"
"I can't blend paints well," Yasmina explains shyly. "Too frustrating."
"Ah, I see," Ben's mother nods. "Pencils were always too sharp for me. I never got the hang of shading with a pencil. You can do that pretty well."
Yasmina gives her a small smile.
As they head into the house, Ben's father helps his wife unpack the groceries. "I've always stuck to crayons," Ben explains.
"I have notes," Yasmina snickers as she quotes herself.
"Oh, you making fun of my artistic skills?" Ben in mock offense, comically putting up his fists and jumping around her. "You wanna fight?"
Yasmina quickly moves her crutch and semi-gently jabs it onto his foot.
Ben yelps and hops on the other foot. "Ha, ha, you'd totally take me down," Yasmina grins superiorly.
"So, how do your new glasses feel, Ben?" his father asks, setting a bag down on the kitchen counter.
Fear pulses through Ben, and his eyes widen. "SH!" he hisses, swiping at his neck.
Yasmina wasn't paying attention, though. She was staring sadly at her legs. "I used to be able to take off my shoes by stepping on the back with the other foot," she huffs. "Now I can't do that…"
Ben's father gives Ben a confused look, but drops the glasses subject. "Oh, thank you, Honey, for getting a new belt," he says as he rummages through a bag, giving his wife a kiss.
"Did ol' Trusty finally break?" Ben laughs, knowing his father had had the same belt for as long as Ben had been alive.
"Yep!" Mr. Pincus laughs, pulling out a shiny, black belt. He holds both ends and whips it up and down to create a cracking sound.
Yasmina flinches hard at the sound, practically jumping in fear. She stares at Mr. Pincus with wide eyes, breathing hard. "Yasmina?" Ben asks in concern.
She shakes her head and looks at him. "It's nothing," she mumbles, knowing the coming question. Forgetting about her shoe problem, she limps into Ben's room and shuts the door. Ben doesn't have to look to know she had locked herself in the closet.
"I… didn't do anything," Mr. Pincus says in confusion.
"Maybe the belt triggered abusive memories…" Ben says.
"Let's give her some space," Mrs. Pincus sighs. "So, what is your problem with your new glasses?"
Ben flinches. "I don't want to wear glasses," he mutters.
"Seems more like you don't want Yasmina to know," his father says.
"I don't," he shakes. "I don't want her to know."
"Why?" his mother asks.
"I don't know!" he exclaims. "I'm just… just scared of her knowing! Glasses are just so… so nerdy and weak!"
"You want to impress her?" his father suggests.
"I don't think that's it…" Ben sighs.
"Ben, we got you glasses for a reason, put them on," his mother orders. "You do want to be able to see, right?"
"Yeah," Ben grumbles, begrudgingly putting on his new glasses. Instantly, things became clear. "Woah…" he chuckles.
"See, it's wonderful to have glasses!" his father says. "Or contacts, but you can stick with glasses for the moment."
"Yeah, contacts might be a good idea," Ben says. "I just hate the idea of anything going near my eye."
"All right, we can look into those," his mother says. "Just, please figure out why you don't want Yaz to know you have glasses. She doesn't like secrets, and you wouldn't want something as stupid as this to get in between you guys, would you?"
"Yeah, you're right," Ben nods. "I'm not telling her yet, though…"
"She did WHAT?!" Brooklynn wails, closing her eyes and leaning back against her bed frame. Her stomach churned painfully, and she felt like she was going to throw up. There was a sharp pain in her chest, like someone had stabbed her.
Blinking back tears of anger, embarrassment, and hurt, Brooklynn rereads Yasmina's text. "Hey, meant to tell you this earlier, but I could barely process it myself for the past two days. Leah came out with a video asking people to stop hating on us and explained that we were just traumatized. But she told everyone that I was abused by my father and that you're depressed, anorexic, and suicidal. I'm not sure what we can do about it, but right now our secrets are all out there for people to know about. And now Leah's painted herself as the sympathetic, good girl who cares about her enemies."
Brooklynn drops her phone into her lap and grips the sides of her head, wanting to scream in anger and pain. "How could you do this?! Why did you have to come out and reveal everything?!"
Brooklynn watches Leah's video, and lets out a frustrated yell. Not only did Leah expose her and Yasmina's struggles, but she also exposed Ben and Darius—without saying names, though. "How did she even know about Ben's anxiety?" Brooklynn asks out loud. "Darius's father would be a simple Google search, and she knew me and Yasmina, but…"
The girl exhales in frustration. She finds Leah's contact, buried underneath her family and the campers contacts, and starts a new text thread. She had deleted their old texting thread, not wanting to talk to the girl. She had blanked and completely forgotten to block Leah, but perhaps that was a good thing… "What the heck was that?! This new video of yours?! Why are you coming out and saying all that?!"
Brooklynn waits in agony, her fists trembling as she waits for Leah to respond. Knowing the girl, she always had her phone and would answer quite quickly. She wasn't wrong.
"Because I'm a nice person and I understand that you're struggling with things and don't need the hate," Leah texts back.
"NO! The depression and anorexia and suicidal thoughts! And Yaz's dad! And Darius and Ben! Why would you reveal all that?!"
"What's the big deal? All the cool Youtubers are revealing their internal struggles. It's the good thing to do. Viewers can relate to you and find inspiration to overcome their struggles. I've opened up about being held back because of my color. Don't you want to help your anorexic and depressed viewers?"
Brooklynn grits her teeth and screams through them. "Don't try to make me feel guilty! That's a private struggle, and YOU can't reveal it! It's not okay to reveal someone else's problems! Take it off Youtube and stop telling people these things!"
"If I do, you have to do one of three things," Leah proposes. "1. Get off of Youtube and stop being a star. 2. Apologize publicly and admit what you and Yasmina did. 3. Leave Yasmina and come join me again. The last 2 go hand in hand."
Brooklynn takes a deep breath, solidifying her opinion of the situation. "I will not get off of Youtube. You are not the leader! You cannot control Youtube and who's on it! Second, I will never apologize for something I didn't do! I will NEVER leave Yasmina for you! You are a bully! I will NEVER join you again! Take these videos off of Youtube now! You're lying about me, you're lying about Yaz! Take them off now!"
"And what's Little Miss Perfect gonna do about it?" Leah asks, sending a winky face. "Of course, I'm the bad guy, and you've never done anything wrong or embarrassing."
Brooklynn was about to argue with her when a pit of dread formed in her stomach. "Embarrassing? What the…"
"What do you mean?" Brooklynn asks instead.
"I am the queen of Youtube," Leah insists. "And I also have ties with other companies and social media platforms. If you don't want certain things about yourself to be out in the public eye, I suggest you fall back in line, or back off."
"What things?" Brooklynn asks, gulping. She asks three more times before texting: "You're bluffing."
"Try me," Leah threatens, then leaves Brooklynn on read.
"What things?" Brooklynn wonders obsessively. "What could she have found that she could use against me? Is it embarrassing? Dark? Did she find…"
Brooklynn holds her fist to her mouth, tears sliding down her face in torment. "No, she couldn't. She couldn't have found it… Please, no! She can't have found it… What if she did? What if she puts it out publicly on the Internet? It can't go on there! My family… my friends… they can't know about it…"
Brooklynn completely forgets about her anxiety of being left alone; left with her thoughts and she panics about Leah's threat. The girl goes back and forth between telling her family and friends about the threat—and therefore stopping her secret from going onto the Internet—and keeping it a complete secret out of shame and embarrassment—and finding a different way of making Leah back off.
"Think of how the others would see me," the dark voice comes as swift as a falcon. "They'll be so disappointed. Would they want to be friends with me after it? They wouldn't be able to forgive me! Darius… He couldn't look me in the eye again… Yaz… she'd be so disappointed… Kenji and Ben… how could they respect me? Sammy… oh, come on, she'd start crying for me!"
With her fears and shame, Brooklynn decides to stay silent about the matter. "Maybe I can work something out with Leah, get her off my back…" Brooklynn thinks, pacing around her room as she bites her nails. "I have to. Alone…"
The whole day, Yasmina avoided people. Ben was blessed with the opportunity of even seeing her. She stayed away from Ben's parents completely. The boy was worried for her; something was wrong… something was bothering her. "Something about my Dad spooked her," he thinks as he stares at the closest door. "Or he triggered flashbacks… or maybe there's something else going on…"
That night, when he headed into his room to go to bed, she was sitting under the covers, reading a book. Catching Fire. Her eighth reread, according to her. She had skipped lunch and dinner. "Hey, Yaz," he says, from the doorway.
She didn't say anything. Ben notices that she was staring just above the book; she wasn't reading… She was in thought.
"Yasmina," he says, crossing over to the other side of the bed. His movement catches her eye and she jumps slightly. He sits down on his side of the bed. "Is something wrong?"
Yasmina looks back down at her read.
"Yasmina, is something going on?" Ben asks.
Yasmina looks up at him from the book in her hand. "Nothing," she murmurs, going back to her book.
"Do you dislike my Dad?" Ben asks. "He's a really nice guy."
"No, he's fine," she says, flipping a page. "I just don't like whips—I mean, belts!"
Ben gives her a sympathetic smile, and she sighs. "Way to go, you just gave it away," she groans in her head. Then again, she did want to talk about it, a bit… get it off her chest. The subject had been bothering her in the back of her mind, pretty much since she was in the hospital.
"Fine, the belt bothered me," she relents. "It… The crack of a belt is a particularly triggering sound for me. Not in a misophonic way… I…"
"Your biological father," Ben suggests quietly.
"He used to whip us…" Yasmina murmurs. "Ghaleb got the brunt of the whipping… I hate the idea of seeing someone else whipped more than being whipped… When your dad cracked his belt… it brought back memories of watching my father whip Ghaleb… I… He's so strong… But not then…"
Ben sits up and wraps his arms around her as tears slip out. "He was so defeated when our father punished him… He would curl up and endure the whipping… just… endure it. It was painful to watch…"
"Did he whip you?" Ben asks quietly.
"Yeah," she nods, resting her head on his shoulder. "Not as often… I think Ghaleb feels the same way as me. About whipping. He would see when I was whipped. We were all too scared of our father to do anything. We had to sit by and watch him punish the other… I think he feels horrible for standing by. I think him being super overprotective of me is his way of trying to make up for standing by when I was whipped…"
"That would make sense," Ben agrees quietly.
"Don't take Ghaleb's harshness as reflecting on you," she tells him. "He's wounded, and wants to protect me. No boy is ever going to be worthy of me. And that doesn't mean you're bad or unworthy. The best guy in the world wouldn't even gain Ghaleb's approval. He's just… too overprotective. Don't put yourself completely to his standards. They're impossible."
"Okay," Ben nods.
The two sit there, half hugging, half sitting against the back of the bed frame. Ben could sense there was something else… something else bothering her. "Is… is there something else you wanna talk about?"
Yasmina is quiet, but uncomfortable. "No…" she mumbles.
Ben relents and closes his eyes. He had already asked her about the whipping. Whatever she was thinking about, he would leave it up to her to talk about.
After a few minutes, though, it was clear that she wanted to talk about it, but felt uncomfortable about starting the conversation. "Did your father do something else?" Ben asks, dreading starting to form in his stomach.
"Yeah," she gulps. "Would you… would you judge me if I told you?"
"Never," Ben insists. "I would never judge you for what your father did."
"Okay," Yasmina says, holding up her hand. It was shaking. "It's been bothering me for a while now. I… I've been scared to talk about it… feeling guilty about it. My Mom and Dad tried to talk to me and ask me if something was bothering me… I felt too ashamed to tell them… or anyone… But I need to get it out…"
"You… never seemed to be holding anything in… anything like what you seem to be talking about," Ben says, having a feeling he knew what happened.
"There's been a lot going on," Yasmina chuckled bitterly, still trembling. "A therapist came to see me in the hospital… She asked about my childhood, and I opened up slightly about it. She asked if I had experienced it, and I said no, but… that night, I had a nightmare. A flashback… Part of me wonders if it was a false memory, but I started having a couple flashbacks to the event… At first, I didn't know what to do with the memory… I just felt depressed with it in the back of my mind… But between Leah, and losing a leg, and all this other stuff… I've been able to push it to the back of my mind and only deal with it bit by bit… But now… I'm just tired of feeling like I have to hide this secret."
"You don't have to," Ben assures her. "You can tell me."
Yasmina gulps. She felt sick to her stomach. "My father… molested me as a kid…"
"I thought you said the only thing he did was yell and hit, nothing of that sort," Ben whispers, feeling awful for her. "Back on the island when you told us."
"I thought so, too…" Yasmina murmurs, tearing up a bit. "The memory only resurfaced during a nightmare in the hospital… For a few days, I was able to convince myself it was a nightmare… but it felt too much like a flashback… then I had a couple flashbacks to it, and… I'm not surprised… just… traumatized."
"What happened? If you want to talk about it," Ben asks cautiously.
"I think it only happened once…" she says. "At least, that I can remember. He was trying to whip me that day as punishment… I ran away… When I finally came back…"
Yasmina opens up about everything, and goes into details Ben wishes he could forget. "I… He made me feel like it was my fault… like it was punishment for running away and I brought it upon myself… I guess… I guess I just blocked it out. Clocked out mentally… Repressed the memory… denied that it ever happened… I don't know… I've been scared of telling anyone about it. I feel… dirty… ashamed… guilty… I know it was abuse and it wasn't my fault… But I still feel like I had something to do with it…"
"You don't need to feel guilty, it's not your fault," Ben assures her.
"It might explain why I've been scared of romance," Yasmina theorizes. "I've always just hated the idea of romance and romantic love and… you know."
"It's not uncommon or unusual to be uninterested in romance," Ben tells her. "I wasn't interested in falling in love until I met you… which might not be the best thing to bring up considering this conversation…"
Yasmina laughs through her tears.
"Just because you're not interested in falling in love doesn't mean there's something wrong with you," Ben explains. "Kids at school made me feel alien for not having a crush. But we're young. We don't need to worry about that right now. It's okay to not want to date at a young age. Don't feel bad about it… But, it's not okay to fear romance, either… I wondered if there was something to your strong dislike of romance…"
"Yeah," she sighs. "I didn't know why I strongly hated it… Not until this memory resurfaced."
"You said that Leah told the school you got pregnant," Ben grimaces. "Is that…?"
"No, not true," Yasmina shakes her head. "I've worried that it was true after this memory resurfaced, but I have to remind myself that it can't be. I was nine when we left him, and eleven when I got my period. Biologically, I couldn't have gotten pregnant, even if he did go farther in another repressed memory… I… I'm willing to believe that was the only time he did it… He didn't exactly express child molester behavior… It came off as more of a punishment than a pastime for him… Mom got the brunt of that type of abuse… I always attributed my fear of romance to being traumatized by hearing what he would do to her… The walls weren't exactly thin…"
Ben feels like he's about to throw up. "What you had to endure as a kid…"
"Yeah, that was life," Yasmina says, shrugging tiredly. "I was pretty submissive and obeying, so I didn't get punished too often… I'm pretty sure the molesting was a one time thing… I hope so."
"Yeah, definitely," Ben nods.
"I'm sorry about your Dad," Yasmina apologizes. "He really is a nice guy, I shouldn't be afraid of him. I should trust him…"
"No, it's okay," Ben says. "Don't feel bad about it. It's not your fault what happened to you, and it's practically impossible to help PTSD."
Yasmina nods, leaning into his embrace tiredly.
"You can tell me anything, you know?" Ben says. "I mean it, anything. I won't judge you or make you feel ashamed."
"Thank you," she murmurs. For a few seconds, she's quiet. "Why don't you feel the same way about me?"
"What do you mean?" Ben asks, leaning back to look her in the eye.
"Ben," she sighs. "I know about your glasses. I'm not that oblivious."
"Oh," he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Why do you feel the need to hide them from me?" Yasmina asks.
"I…" Ben sighs. "It… It's just… I don't know…"
"Put them on," Yasmina urges. "Lemme see them."
Ben reluctantly pulls out his glasses and puts them on. The frame was oval, almost circular, and was a dark brown color. "I know," he sighs. "I look like a complete nerd… or Harry Potter."
Yasmina giggles. "Neither, you look super cute and chic."
"You're kidding," Ben mumbles.
"No, the frame really looks good with your face shape," Yasmina insists. "It looks really cute on you."
"That's not necessarily better!" Ben protests.
"What's your problem with glasses?" she asks. "They look good on you."
"I don't want to look nerdy and I don't want to look cute!" he sighs. "I want to look tough and cool!"
"What's wrong with being cute?" Yasmina asks.
"I was fine being cute when I was younger," Ben sighs, getting off his bed. "But now that I'm older, I don't want to be cute! I want to be a man!"
"You're growing into a man, Ben," she says. "It takes time."
"Really?" he plants his hands on his hips. "We measured me. I'm five foot, seven inches, and haven't filled out. Right now, I'm shooting up and staying stick skinny! I look like a skinny noodle boy, nerd!"
Yasmina giggles. "Yeah, but you might grow into your height when you're older."
Ben sputters and slumps. "So I'm going to be a gawky, awkward, skinny noodle boy with nerdy glasses and a meek personality who trips over nothing."
"Do you associate weakness with glasses?" Yasmina asks, crossing her legs.
Ben thinks for a moment. "I mean… yeah, I guess I do. Glasses mean that you have bad vision. In the wild, vision is the difference between life and death. It's a disadvantage and a weakness. And glasses are associated with nerds."
Yasmina tilts her head. "Nerds are supposed to be socially awkward, super intelligent kids. You can be a brainiac without being awkward."
"It's not about being socially awkward, it's…" Ben sighs. "It's about being weak and inadequate. I… I had a dream last night. The nightmare. You were hurt… bloody… crawling on the ground. This… this gruesome monster that was… it was a mix of the Scorpius rex—" Yasmina's breath hitches. "—and some demon monster. Three of them surrounded you… I couldn't get to you. I was too weak and tired. My vision was blurry and I couldn't get to you. You reached out for me, but I couldn't help you…"
"And Ghaleb's little speech about not breaking my trust didn't help," Yasmina says quietly.
"Yeah," Ben nods. "I hate that I was a scaredy, anxious kid… Now I'm scared that I won't be able to protect my friends. I'm scared that I… will be weak."
Yasmina smiles and holds out her hands. Ben takes them and she gently pulls him onto the bed. "Look, right now, you may not be the strongest or the most intimidating. And maybe you never will be. But you're super strong emotionally. I might not rely on you physically—well, right now I do—but I rely on you emotionally, especially with depression and all."
Ben nods.
"Even if you're not stronger than me," she says. "I'd rather you be the emotionally strong one. Cause… I'm not. I rely on you. It's not that you can't come to me when something's bothering you! I just… I'm much more suited to dealing with things in a physical way, than an emotional way."
"Like murder," Ben smiles wryly.
"Yes," Yasmina grins. "And violence."
"And knives," Ben laughs.
"Hehe, and bows," she snickers.
"Kenji and Sammy's conversations end with an argument over who loves each other more, and then there's us who end it with knives and murder," Ben says, making her laugh even harder. "In all seriousness, though," he chuckles. "Don't feel ashamed to come to me with anything. I won't ever judge you and I won't ever hate you for your secrets, okay?"
Yasmina nods. "Yeah… same… what you said."
Ben chuckles.
"Love this mushy conversation, but can we continue it tomorrow morning?" Yasmina yawns.
"Fair enough, Ben chuckles, getting into bed and climbing under the covers. "Goodnight, Yasmina."
"Germmhmm," Yasmina mumbles into her pillow.
"Goodnight," he says a little more sternly. "... Goodnight… Yasmina, goodnight… goodnight…"
"I said goodnight already!" she exclaims, pulling out her pillow from underneath it and smacking his face with it.
"Okay, fine," Ben cackles, snuggling underneath the covers to fall asleep.
"Hey, Kenji, what am I again?" Sammy asks with a mischievous grin on her face.
The boy sighs and just about lays down on the table. "I've already told all your sisters, your parents, and your Abuela. If you think it's so funny, just tell your uncles!"
"He called me a Texican," Sammy tells her Uncle Travis, leaning back in her wheelchair with hysterical giggles.
"A Texican?" Uncle Cesario laughs.
Kenji sighs. "She told me she was a proud Mexican Texan, and my brain mashed the two together to become Texican. And now I can't unhear it or pronounce Texan correctly."
"Of course, you'd say that," Holly says coolly, silently judging him. Kenji hears her mutter something under her breath, but can't tell what it was.
"Why does that actually sound better than Texan, though?" Jorge asks, taking a sip of his beer.
"People will think you speak incorrectly," Carlos says. "More so than you already do."
"English is fine, it's other languages," Kenji laughs.
"My biggest pet peeve with English speakers speaking Spanish is 'no problemo'," Abuela says.
"It's 'no problema,'" Kenji says, and she nods. "I'm trying to learn Spanish, but it's slow going," he sighs. "Anything I'm not pronouncing correctly?"
"Salsa," Miriam says. "There's more emphasis on the L that most people don't put."
Kenji nods. "I know Ben gets a bit worked up if you mispronounce Italian words. His grandparents are second generation Italians, I think…"
"Oh, yeah," Sammy laughs. "I said pistacchio the way everyone else does and he gave me a look. He said you're supposed to pronounce it like you would Pinocchio."
Kenji blinks. "I didn't even think about that word being Italian… I learned about the bruschetta mispronunciation from a girlfriend. Major language enthusiastic."
Smoothly, Holly drops his biggest secret. "Is this the girlfriend you got pregnant?" she asks, as if she was confused on who was who in his past. She clearly knew what she was doing, though.
"Wait, what?" Carlos asks, and all the uncles become interested.
"Holly!" Sammy snaps.
"He got a girl pregnant?" Jorge asks.
"And you knew about this?" Travis asks Mr. Gutierrez.
"Yeah," Mr. Gutierrez nods.
"You weren't honest about it to everyone?" Holly asks in innocent shock.
"Holly, it's his secret," her mother chastises.
"But a pretty big secret," Carlos says. "A concerning one, at that."
"I know," Mr. Gutierrez sighs.
"You're letting your daughter date a guy who got someone else pregnant?" Travis says in complete shock. "After…? Boy, if I found out Angelina was dating someone with that past, he wouldn't make it out alive! Too much risk."
Mr. Gutierrez's face hardens at the insinuation that he wasn't doing a good job protecting his daughter.
Kenji's face has paled, and his hands are sweaty. He sits there in his chair at the dinner table, eyes widen, watching the scene unfold. "No, no, no! Is my mistake going to be the deciding factor? Mr. Gutierrez seemed fine with it! Will this define me forever?! Will I never get to see Sammy again?!"
"It's been a question in the back of my head," Mr. Gutierrez admits. After Kenji had told him, the man had seemed to accept it and put it in the past. But now… now his brother had suggested he was a bad parent… Now there was a bit of peer pressure to run Kenji off.
"Wait, he seriously did?" Miriam asks in shock. Apparently, Holly hadn't filled her in.
"We've all made mistakes, don't hold this against him!" Sammy protests, angrily.
"It's a pretty serious mistake," Holly tells her sister. "One that should be taken into consideration. If he's already gone all the way with one girl—and I sincerely doubt it was just one girl—then what's to say he wouldn't want to do the same with you? Why would he want to wait until marriage? And if he doesn't want to wait until marriage, what's to stop him from going behind your back? Or pressuring you into doing it by threatening to leave you?"
Kenji tightens his jaw in an attempt to keep from crying. "I wouldn't do that to her! I can't do that to her…"
"I think I side more with Holly on this one, it's a pretty serious situation," Travis agrees.
"I agree, it's something to be discussed," Jorge nods. "She makes some pretty good points."
The family—specifically the men and Holly—begin to pry more, asking about what happened and anything else related. Carlos was quiet, but direct about his questions. Travis was the more outspoken one, seeming more outraged with the situation. Jorge was quieter, and didn't seem as bothered by the idea of what Kenji did. He gave the feel of the more permissive parent among the brothers. Uncle Cesario disagreed with what Kenji did, but didn't seem to hold it against him too much.
Thankfully, the younger three were in bed and weren't listening to the conversation.
Sammy protests the interrogation, arguing that he had changed and the experience was what changed his mind. Kenji ashamedly answers the questions, feeling horrible about his past. He stared at his hands in his lap, feeling unworthy to meet their eyes. "How could I have done this?" self-loathing thoughts come. "I'm such a terrible person. How could I possibly join this family! They're exactly what a family should be! They're kind, supportive, pure, protective. Everything that I'm not! How could I possibly join this perfect family…?"
Mrs. Gutierrez and Abuela sided with Sammy and protested the interrogation. Mrs. Gutierrez liked Kenji and thought it was unfair what the men were saying. Abuela loved Kenji and thought it was unfair to treat him that way. Mr. Gutierrez was on the fence; on one hand, Kenji was a good kid, and hadn't displayed any behavior that they were questioning. He had truly seemed to change from what he used to be. On the other hand, there always was a possibility that he was a liar… and he did want to protect his daughter…
Finally, Abuela had had enough and stood to her feet. "¡Ya basta! He's a teenager! We've all made mistakes in our youth, and he does not deserve to be treated like a criminal for this! Christians make such a huge deal about sleeping around before marriage! I am not saying it's okay or right, but in God's eyes, sin is sin! This sin is not worse than lying or cheating or stealing! So, he's made the mistake of giving away his purity before marriage. What mistakes have you made?! You are not better than him!"
The group goes silent. Kenji looks up.
"Is our goal in life not to be more like Jesus?" Abuela asks. "If so, why are we condemning him? He has tried to change and feels sorry for making his mistake. Would Jesus condemn him and send him away from Heaven for this?"
"No," the family solemnly choruses.
"Some of the worst sinners are in Heaven," Abuela says. "Paul, one who wrote many books in the Bible, murdered Christians before he came to accept Jesus. No one in this world is perfect, not even Christians. Stop waltzing around, acting like Pharisees!"
Kenji has to bite his lip to keep back a chuckle. The family turns their attention to him.
"Oh, he can laugh!" Abuela exclaims. "Christians are not almighty and perfect! Maybe one reason more people don't come to know the Lord is because we act like we're holy and perfect! We treat those who aren't part of us like they're unworthy and alienate them and make them feel unwelcome! The only reason we're going to Heaven, is because of God's grace, not our holiness! We are not perfect, and I will not stand to watch y'all treat Kenji like he is a criminal for this!"
Abuela turns to Sammy's father. "Austin, you make such a big deal about sleeping around before marriage, when you made the same mistake as a teenager," Abuela reveals.
Sammy, Miriam, and Kenji's jaws dropped. "Wait, WHAT?!" Sammy exclaims.
"Papa, is she for real?!" Miriam asks.
Mr. Gutierrez sighs. "Sì, she's telling the truth."
"With who?" Miriam asks.
"I don't wanna know that!" Sammy gags.
"It was your Mama," he grumbles. "One time… Prom night."
"... That's romantic?" Miriam says uncomfortably, unsure how to react.
Sammy starts laughing out of awkwardness. Kenji glances at Holly. She had suspiciously hung her head and almost seemed to be waiting for something…
"And Carlos? I caught you doing drugs when you were seventeen," Abuela huffs. "Travis, you had a hit and run when you were eighteen. Jorge… you were jaywalking. I don't know, you were a pretty good kid. My point is, all four of you have done something bad that you regret, and you wouldn't want it to be held against you later on, especially since you learned from your mistakes."
The men hang their heads, while Sammy and Miriam look around in complete shock. Apparently, these scandals were not talked about.
"Holly, would you rather tell Kenji why you dislike him so much, or should I do it?" Abuela asks.
"Why does he have to know?" Holly mutters, crossing her arms.
Abuela sighs. "Holly got pregnant when she was fifteen."
Kenji's jaw drops, and he tries to hold back his laughter. It wasn't funny, but the shock made him laugh.
"The guy abandoned her and left her to deal with it on her own," Abuela explains. "She's afraid you'll do the same to Sammy."
Kenji nods slowly. "Um… if you're twenty-one now… that's about a five to six year difference… is Shelby…?"
The family roars with laughter. "No, it was a miscarriage," Sammy explains through her tears.
Holly was the only one not laughing. "Abuela…" she murmurs.
"Kenji hasn't even been approved into the family yet," Abuela huffs. "I don't think it's fair for all his mistakes to be on display to critique when he's not even 'apart' of us. So, I've even the playing field."
She turns to Kenji. "No one is perfect. Christians are not perfect. We're not perfect. We try to be a good family, but every family has their secrets and scandals. I'm not condoning your mistake, but I won't let you feel alone in your teenage-y mistakes, either."
"Thank you," Kenji says quietly, nodding.
The family goes full Spanish, so that they could talk without him knowing what the conversation was. Kenji is left to go off of hand signals and facial expressions. Sammy seemed pretty distressed and seemed to be arguing with her parents. The rest of the family slowly seemed to get on the same page, but she wasn't with them. Mr. Gutierrez holds up his finger, as if to say, "He has one more chance." At least, that was how Kenji read it. The look of distress on Sammy's face concerned him.
"Okay," Mr. Gutierrez switches to English. "One more day of this trial, boy. One more day."
"Yessir," Kenji nods. His thoughts were a brewing storm as he went to bed. Darius was staying at his house for the night, so he was left to pace the room alone. His stomach twisted and turned all night, leaving him feeling like he would throw up. "Did I blow it? Am I out of the game? Have they pretty much decided what to do with me? Was that the deciding factor? After Abuela's speech, am I still unworthy…?
"Are my secrets going to define me forever…?"