As soon as Miguel stepped off the bus that evening, he smelled the enticing scent of sea salt in the air. He was tempted to hurry to the ocean immediately, but their first priority had to be to find the hostel they'd looked up on their phones, especially before the sun started setting.
While they walked, Miguel asked Hawk, "You ever seen the Atlantic?"
"My Bubbe lives in Florida, I've been to the beach there a few times," answered Eli. "Pacific's got bigger waves, but the Atlantic's warmer."
At Hawk's mention of his grandmother, a small pang stung Miguel in his chest as he remembered his Yaya back home, who was assuredly worried about him no less than his mother was. He wondered if she'd ever seen the Atlantic Ocean, either. Probably not. Ecuador bordered the Pacific, just like California.
The coastal town of Tecolutla was much smaller than Mexico City, with fewer options for finding a place to stay unless they ventured into the popular tourist hotels. The hostel they'd found offered them a small room, two twin beds spaced not more than two feet apart. But it was perfectly suitable for what they needed, even if there was a distinct skunk-like odor coming from one of the other rooms.
"Heh, you smell that?" asked Hawk with a knowing smirk.
Miguel laughed. "Someone's having a fun time."
Hawk poked him. "Hey, what's the Spanish word for marijuana?"
"Well, marijuana, actually," said Miguel with another chuckle. "But if you want to go asking someone for some weed around here, you should ask them for some mota."
Hawk's grin widened. "See, that's the kind of thing they don't teach you on Duolingo."
After they got settled in, Miguel and Hawk walked to a local beach shop to pick up a few things they needed, including swim shorts and sunscreen. Then they found a place for dinner. Hawk kept insisting on snapping pics of Miguel on his phone, whether it was him holding up a silly novelty t-shirt with a cringey pun, or him just eating his tacos.
"You're gonna want these later," Hawk told him.
Conceding that was true, Miguel pointed out, "Well, let me take some of you then, too."
Hawk snorted like he thought it was a joke, and his eyes darted down to his plate. Once again, skirting around the taboo topic. Miguel didn't know how long they could continue to ignore it.
By the time they were done, the sun had set, and it was too late to take a stroll to the beach and jump in the ocean. The scent of sea salt still beckoned Miguel to it, but he knew they would be able to hit the beach tomorrow. So instead, they stopped by a stand and picked up a couple of jumbo limonadas.
They went back to the hostel and sat outside, lounging in the communal chairs on the back porch, winding down to the sounds of the neighborhood and the faint noises of the ocean that still managed to reach them there.
They sipped slowly from their drinks for a little while, making some small talk about what they would do at the beach tomorrow, but Miguel's thoughts started drifting back to the conversation they'd had on the bus earlier that day; what Hawk told him about Robby using the straight razor to give him his unwanted crew cut. He knew he might have been stepping on another landmine, but he said what was on his mind anyway. "Robby should've gone back to juvie for what he did to you."
It was a thought Miguel had returned to over and over again after learning what happened. How in the hell had Robby avoided breaking his probation and steered clear of being tossed back in juvie after doing something like that? The Cobras could say it wasn't a real fight all they wanted, but the fact of the matter was, it was still assault. So why didn't the police go and pick up Robby for it? What, had Mr. LaRusso stepped in again like he'd done when he got Robby's first sentence reduced, and done something to stop it? Was that why he hadn't wanted Sensei Lawrence to do anything about it?
But no matter how curious he was, Miguel knew it wasn't a topic he could bring up around Sensei Lawrence, much less voice how he wished his son could've faced punishment for his crime.
Hawk gave him a long look from the corners of his eyes before they dropped down to the cup in his hands. "If I told my parents it was him who did it, he probably would've," he muttered.
"You didn't tell them?!" asked Miguel, his eyes wide and tone incredulous.
Long fingers tapped against Hawk's cup, and he tightened his lips for a few seconds. "I told them it was Cobra Kai. I mean, at first, I didn't even want to tell them what happened, but after you took me home that night and I saw them, I…I couldn't lie to them. They were so upset. They wanted names, they wanted to press charges, but I just didn't want to deal with any of that."
Hawk's voice had started sounding more hollow, but he hadn't cut the conversation off yet. And when Miguel gave him a beat to take a sip of his drink, to let the silence sit between them for a moment, Eli continued.
"I told them about everything else, though," he said, his eyes drifting off again. "About all the shit I did last year. I told them all of it. How I tried beating up Demetri at the mall over a stupid Yelp review. About when I vandalized Miyagi-Do and stole Mr. Miyagi's medal of honor. How I kicked the shit out of Nate, how I harassed Chris at his work, and how I b-broke Demetri's arm.…"
Miguel's brows furrowed, a pit starting to form in his stomach as he wondered why Hawk would pick that night, of all times, to confess everything to his parents. "How'd they react?"
"They said it didn't matter!" exclaimed Hawk, forcing a shaky laugh out. "They still wanted to know who did that to me. Heh, isn't that funny? All that time, they thought I was, like, their perfect innocent kid because I let them. And even when they knew the truth, it didn't matter. They would've thrown Robby behind bars again if I let them, but they couldn't even see I deserved to be in there right along with him!"
Sitting in the chair beside him, Miguel's jaw dropped. "Hawk—"
"I guess you were onto something earlier," said Hawk, cutting him off with a sad smile. "Y'know, about dads caring about their sons no matter what awful fucked up shit they do. And moms are like that, too. So I totally get why you'd want to find your dad. And, honestly, any dad would be lucky to have you for a son."
Miguel stared at him, dumbfounded. He couldn't even think of a response.
At his prolonged silence this time, Eli's eyes started darting back and forth again, and he stood up from his chair. "Hey, I think I'm gonna hit the sack," he said, stretching his arms over his head. "That was a long bus ride earlier and I wanna be rested when we hit the beach early tomorrow."
He didn't wait to hear Miguel's reply. Hawk just took his drink and went inside. Miguel let him leave without interruption and didn't follow him.
The moon continued its slow journey across the sky. Miguel sat outside in the dark for a long time, sorting through his thoughts in the quiet while the humid ocean air blew salt into his hair. He thought about fathers and sons, senseis and students, friends and enemies, offense and defense, and the difference between punishment and atonement.
He thought about how he'd never once received an apology from Robby Keene for kicking him off the balcony.
He knew it was an accident. Everyone did. Everyone reminded him it was just an accident. And Robby had served his time, did his penance for his crime. But he'd still never said sorry. And while talk was cheap, Miguel had expected something out of the guy. And, well, he'd certainly gotten something alright.
He'd gotten Robby going at him as soon as they'd released him from juvie.
He'd gotten Robby taking his place in Cobra Kai.
He'd gotten Robby taunting him that night at the drive-in theater with what he'd done to him.
You remember what happened the last time we fought, right?
It was pushing eleven when Miguel finally called it a night. The light was out in their room when he stepped inside. Hawk had done as he said he would and crawled into his bed. He looked like he was totally passed out now, but at some point, he'd kicked off some of his blanket, a sign of restless tossing and turning.
"Hawk?" whispered Miguel, testing to see if he was awake.
His friend didn't so much as stir.
Quietly sliding off his shoes, Miguel padded over to Hawk's side to readjust his blanket, before sliding into his own bed. Resting his head on the pillow, Miguel cocooned himself under his comforter, closed his eyes, and dreamed of the ocean.