The sky was overcast in grey the next morning, pouring down rain that beat hard against the window from the piercing wind. So Miguel decided it was a good day for the both of them to sleep in and recover from any residual hangovers. Or rather, he let Hawk sleep in while he lied in his bed, staring off into space, reflecting on what happened the previous night.

Instead of leaving him embarrassed, the experience left Miguel drained, deflated, feeling like he was sinking in an ocean of darkness. And as hard as he tried to swim back to the surface, he had too many anchors weighing him down. How was he supposed to keep himself from drowning?

A buzz from the nightstand attracted Miguel's attention to Hawk's cellphone for a second, before he went back to sinking. Only for two more buzzes to pull him back up from the depths ten minutes later. Again, he ignored them, but when it went off for the third time, Miguel's aggravation was piqued.

And his irritation leaped bounds when the latest text was followed by an actual incoming call, forcing Miguel to listen to AC/DC's "Dirty Deeds" for what felt like an eternity before the call went to voicemail. Who the hell would be risking a carrier charge to dial Hawk internationally right now?

Somehow, none of it woke Hawk up; he'd been out like a light ever since his 3AM bathroom break. Miguel heard him stirring on the top bunk, but his friend settled down after a few seconds, and he went right back to snoring.

A second call rang in immediately after. When Hawk still didn't wake up, Miguel finally lost control of his patience. Rolling over on the bed, he reached over and glanced at the locked screen to see who was blowing up his cell. The call was coming from "Mom," and when it went to voicemail, Miguel was able to read some of the texts Mrs. Moskowitz had sent:

Eli, your father and I spoke to Miguel's mother. Miguel went to Mexico to find his father. Has he told you anything? Miguel's mother called the cops when he left, I'm having them file a report for you too. You're both in danger. Pls text us back now!

Pls text us back let us know you're both ok!

Eli pls text us back!

Honey are you ok?

Miguel's stomach bottomed out so fast that if he'd had anything left in it after last night, he would've thrown it up again. The Moskowitzes had talked to his mother. So they knew his reason for leaving. His mom had called the cops, just like he knew she would. And what had his mom told them about his father?

"Shit, what time is it?"

Hearing the groggy voice above him, Miguel quickly set Eli's phone on the nightstand and rolled over on his back. "Um, about noonish."

Hawk groaned and climbed down off the top bunk. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he picked a shirt off the floor, sniffed it for freshness, and shrugged. "Does this place let us do laundry?" he asked, grabbing his toothbrush out of his bag.

Ignoring his question, Miguel sat up in his bed, throwing his legs over the sides. He shivered at his bare feet touching the cold, wooden floors before resting his elbows on top of his knees. His eyes glanced once to Hawk's cell on the nightstand. The guillotine was over his head now and about to be dropped. "Hey, Hawk, about—"

"Don't worry about last night," Hawk assured him, cutting him off. "So you can't handle mixing shellfish with beer, no big."

It was an out, Hawk's way of saving him any feelings of embarrassment for throwing up and crying in front of him. But Miguel wasn't embarrassed. And that wasn't what they needed to talk about right now.

Letting out a soft sigh, Miguel dropped the truth bomb. "I came to Mexico City to find my father."

Hawk paused on his way to the bathroom, turning around to look at Miguel. "What?"

"Your parents texted while you were asleep," explained Miguel, unplugging Hawk's phone and handing it to him when he walked over. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but they were blowing up your phone. They talked to my mom, and she knows why I left. I wanted to find my dad. I'd tracked him down to the capital, but then I ran into a dead end."

Miguel studied Hawk's face, looking for any signs of betrayal as he read the texts, looking for any signs of hurt that he'd hid his true motivations for dumping everyone back home to come all the way here on an impulse. But his expression was hard to read. He looked more confused than anything, from the way his brows were knitted together like that.

Eyes flitting up from his phone, Eli asked, "Your mom didn't want you to find him?"

Now that he was on a roll, Miguel kept supplying the facts, at least as best he understood them. Because the more he kept talking, the more he could feel a weight dropping off his shoulders. He hadn't realized how heavy this particular anchor had been weighing him down. No wonder he'd been sinking. "He got caught up in something illegal when my mom was pregnant with me."

Putting his cell in his pocket, Hawk fidgeted with the toothbrush in his hands. "Like, are we talking pirating DVDs level of illegal, or…?"

"I don't know the specifics," admitted Miguel with a feeble shrug, rubbing his hands together. "My mom would never talk to me about it." She would never discuss anything specific about his dad with him. And he'd learned young to stop trying.

And now he was here with his best friend, trying to track down a man he knew next to nothing about except that he'd done something Bad. And both his mother and the Moskowitzes were back home, worrying themselves to death because of it.

You're both in danger.

Hawk chewed on his bottom lip like he was in deep thought. "Hey, I can try and do an Internet deep-dive about it, if you want," he offered. "I mean, I don't have my laptop but I could text Demetri your dad's name and he can see what he can find. If my parents found Sensei Lawrence's rap sheet, maybe there's something out there on your dad's."

There was an unspoken question there. Why hadn't Miguel thought to do that before making this quest?

Because he didn't want to know.

Miguel wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Yeah, maybe…."

Hawk stared at him for a long moment. Then he rolled his shoulders. "It might've not been that bad," he said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "And, well, even if it was, maybe things have changed. Maybe your dad's turned his life around. Anything's possible, right? I mean, just because someone screws up doesn't mean they're a douchebag forever, right?"

His words barely reached Miguel. Because, at that moment, Miguel's conscience was screaming at him to do that right thing. Unblock everyone's numbers on his phone. Stop ignoring their comments on his Instagram. Reopen the lines of communication. Call his mother. Go back home.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about my dad," he told Hawk, meeting his blue eyes with complete humility, the only thing he had to offer. "But I also wasn't lying when I said I needed to find myself. I just thought that's what I needed in order to do it."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, dude," said Hawk.

A soft, unsteady laugh escaped Miguel. He ran his hands up his face, through his hair, and shook his head. "Why are you being, like, absurdly cool about this?" he asked in disbelief.

Hawk's features softened. "What, you didn't force me to come here. And it's not like you're holding me hostage. Besides, I get that feeling, y'know? About wanting to find yourself? I've been there, man. Maybe I'm still there…." Miguel realized he must've been staring at Hawk because now Eli's face was getting hard to read again. "So, what do you want to do now?"

Miguel ran his hands down his face again. He knew the right answer. But what came out of his mouth was, "I don't want to leave. It-It's not even about my dad anymore. I mean, I don't know, maybe part of it still is. But getting away from everything back home?" Even talking about things that happened when all of it was out of sight? "Just spending the past week with you hitting up the city, it's been…."

The mattress dipped as Hawk sat down beside him on the bed. "Yeah, I know. I don't want to leave, either."

"Then let's stay," Miguel decided, shoving his conscience aside. Screw it. He was already here. He was going to have to make things up to everyone back home regardless. So why not take his time and do what he really needed to do? "But we should probably at least leave the hostel. Get out of the city for a while, go off the grid to make whatever trail the police has go cold. Then we can decide whether we want to come back here or head home. You good with that?

"I already followed you this far, haven't I?" asked Hawk, wrapping his arm around Miguel's shoulders, pulling him close. Leave it to Hawk to enable his insane plan. "Where we going next?"

Miguel didn't even have to think about it. "The ocean?"

Hawk's eyes brightened. "Oh, hell yeah! We'll be like Dufresne and Red in Shawshank!"

Miguel snorted. Since it felt like both of them had had to crawl through metaphorical rivers of shit to get to this point in their lives, the comparison was apt.

But before he squelched his conscience completely, he told Hawk, "We should at least let our moms know we're both alive. You should text yours. Let your parents know things have changed, we really are on vacation right now."

Miguel recognized the flash of guilt on Hawk's face. Because he, too, realized that wouldn't be enough to quell whatever fears the Moskowitzes were experiencing right now. Just like it wouldn't for his own mother. Their parents would never be at rest again until the two of them were back home.

But they had to do this.

"You gonna post another selfie for yours?" asked Eli.

Miguel wrapped his arm around his back, returning Hawk's embrace. "Let's take one together."

He watched a sheepish twinge of self-consciousness redden Hawk's cheeks, and he was about to chalk it up to how sentimental things were getting until Hawk ran his free hand over his buzzed hair. But before Miguel could tell him to forget his suggestion, Hawk said, "Okay. Just one, though."

Miguel snapped a quick one. And while he got ready to post it on his Instagram, Hawk got back up and sent off his own series of texts. "Pretty sure this is gonna make me the worst son in existence," Miguel remarked, needing to hear himself say it out loud before he could carry through with his action. He could only hope his mother would understand, that maybe this would help give her some peace of mind for now. He'd never meant to hurt her with any of this.

"Second only to me," quipped Hawk, setting his phone back on the nightstand before getting ready for his shower again. Forcing out a dry chuckle, he pointed out, "Dude, we are gonna be so fucking grounded."

"Definitely," agreed Miguel. "So let's enjoy our freedom while we still got it."

Hawk smiled and broke for the bathroom. Staring down at his phone, Miguel decided this time he would leave a comment under the image he was posting:

"Sometimes you finally think you know where you're going, only for the road to take you down a different turn and get you completely lost again. But at least I have a friend with me now. We'll find our way back together. Mom, if you're reading this, I'm so sorry. But we'll be okay, and I'll see you again soon. I love you."