Miguel jolted himself awake. Sitting up while he caught his breath, he brushed his hair out of his face, blinking at the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the faintness of morning light peeking through the window blinds. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he let out a soft sigh of relief upon seeing the sleeping form close by him. His friend had at some point in the night returned to the hostel and crawled into bed.
He'd tried staying awake until Hawk came back from his long walk, but by two in the morning, fatigue had won out when Miguel closed his eyes for just a quick rest. At least Eli was sound asleep now, although with his back turned to him. And from where he was lying on the far corner of his own bed, Hawk had his arms wrapped around his spare pillow.
Something tightened in Miguel's chest as he found himself envying the pillow, bothered by how Hawk hadn't curled up closer to him like had been his habit lately. But then his rebuff from the previous night returned to him, as did the things he'd said to Hawk.
This whole trip was a mistake.
Miguel sighed, running his hands down his exhausted face. He couldn't stand this anymore.
Pulling his covers back, he slid off the foot of his bed, trying not to disturb Hawk in the process. As quietly as he could, he tip-toed over the nightstand and grabbed his phone off its charger, threw on his jacket, slid on his sandals, and crept out of the room.
The hue of the sky was greyed by heavy clouds that morning, providing Miguel limited sunlight while he walked several blocks to the local cafe. He bought a small, cheap coffee to mask the taste of night-mouth and earn a chair at one of the more secluded outside tables, but it was access to the business's wifi that he was really interested in.
Pulling out his cellphone and linking to the wi-fi, Miguel then scrolled down his list of contacts until he came to the one he wanted: Samantha LaRusso. And his breaths quickened when he hovered his thumb over the button that would unblock her number. Before he was overwhelmed by all the what-ifs, before he could imagine all the messages and calls she would have made if he hadn't impeded her from contacting him, Miguel pressed his thumb down.
The deed was done. He'd unblocked Sam's phone number.
Miguel exhaled, trying to will the tension in his shoulders away with a casual roll. For some reason, he'd pictured that moment being far more insurmountable than it turned out to be. What, had he seriously thought the very second he unblocked someone from home, his cell would suddenly start blowing up? No, at this point everyone must have given up trying to call or text him. He would have to be the one to make the first move now.
Strike first, for old time's sake.
Besides, he'd already done the hardest part, right?
Moving his thumb over to the Facetime option, Miguel took the plunge, hitting the dial button, and the sound of the phone ringing had his heart thundering in his ribcage. And when it picked up on the third ring, he gasped as Sam's face filled his screen.
"Miguel, is that you?!" exclaimed Sam, looking at him like he'd risen from the dead. He must have woken her up, judging from her bedhead and the bags under her tired eyes, but she certainly sounded plenty alert now; and despite her unkempt appearance, she was a sight for Miguel's sore eyes.
Miguel smiled. "Hey, babe!" he greeted, cringing inside as soon as it came out. Was that really how he was going to greet his girlfriend after ghosting her for weeks?
"Oh my god, are you okay?" asked Sam, brushing her hair from her face, still staring at him like she was looking at an actual ghost. It didn't feel real to Miguel, either. It was almost like a dream.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Miguel assured her, his smile firming up. "How…How are you doing?"
It was forced. Farcical. A desperate attempt to pretend like things were normal between them, like it had only been a few days since they'd last seen each other, like they were just catching up from over the weekend.
The look on Sam's face said it all. "Where are you?" she asked, unmasked concern wrapped in her voice as even more questions started pouring out a mile a minute. "Everyone's been worried about you. Are you still in Mexico City? That's where your mom said you ran off to, but then you were posting pictures of you and Eli at a beach on your Instagram. Why haven't you been answering our comments? Why did you block everyone? Is Eli still there with you? He won't respond either, what's going on? Where are you, Miguel?"
For a second, Miguel was worried he might be knocked over by the gust of so many questions blowing in his direction. He ought to have expected it. And that probably wasn't even a tenth of the questions that must have been running through Sam's mind, only the first ones that managed to leap through the morning fog.
"Um, yeah, Hawk's still with me, we decided to leave Mexico City for a while," explained Miguel, trying not to trip over his tongue as he scrambled his frazzled brain to come up with some way to explain himself. It was overwhelming, like an avalanche coming down on top of him. "We've been, uh…we've been working through some stuff."
Miguel wished he'd put more thought into this, come up with a script first. Or would that have been even worse? Couldn't Sam just please read his mind and see he was, like Hawk had said, going through some shit?
No, she wasn't psychic. He wasn't making any sense. He could tell by the way Sam's brows knitted themselves together. So Miguel kept going. "I've missed you a lot. Hawk told me about your fight in the finals. I'm really sorry."
Please understand I didn't mean to hurt you with this.
Concern morphed into hurt on Sam's face. "You said you'd be there rooting for me."
That wasn't technically true, but Miguel wasn't going to sit there and remind her of that. Not after the painful way she'd said that. "I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I just, um, I thought I should leave before everyone got back from the Tournament, otherwise I didn't think I could've gotten on the bus. Something happened with Johnny, and I felt like I had to go find my dad."
Please tell me you understand.
"Eli was supposed to bring you home," said Sam. "Demetri said that's the reason he went down there, but he hasn't texted Demetri in a long time, both of you are still out there and nobody here knows what's going on. What happened?"
Miguel couldn't speak for why Hawk was ignoring Demetri, too, but he tried explaining both of their erratic behaviors. "He…When he showed up, it threw off my plans to find my dad. Because my dad had a bad history, and I wanted to see whether or not he'd changed, but I didn't want to risk getting Hawk into anything. So I decided to stop looking for him. I meant to go back home after that but…Sam, I-I don't know, it's just been a lot and I needed to get away from everything for a while. I'm sorry."
I think my best friend is falling in love with me and I don't know how to handle it, but I promise I still love you, Sam.
Sam looked at him like he'd hit her, not unlike the way she had that night at the canyon so long ago. It was like a gut-punch. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"
"I didn't want to make this your problem," mumbled Miguel.
Hurt was molding into anger now on Sam's face. It was in her eyes, the anger he'd been afraid to see. The exasperation Sam had been showing ever since the dojos had merged, the vexation that had her starting a fight with Tory at the afterparty of their junior prom. Now she was turning it on him.
"Miguel, you disappeared!" Sam snapped. "Of course this became my problem! Why didn't you tell me any of this? Why didn't you just call me? Something!"
"I…." Miguel paused. What could he say?
His break gave Sam a moment to collect herself, brushing her hair back again. Pressing her mouth into a fine line, she then took a deep breath and said, "I'm…I'm glad you're alright. Are you coming home soon?"
Miguel blinked, not even processing her question. His stomach was so knotted it made him nauseous. He wanted to throw up. Because he wasn't alright. He wasn't fine. He, Hawk, Sam, none of them were fine, were they?
"Are we gonna be okay?" he asked Sam instead, swallowing hard. "You and me?"
The troubled expression on Sam's face twisted his insides tighter, and the silence that hung between them for the next minute threatened to bottom out his stomach. "I…I don't know," said Sam, shaking her head.
Miguel was glad he was sitting down in his chair. Otherwise, he might have sunk into the Earth.
Sam wiped at her eyes but kept going, her words flying out again. "You-You totally blocked me out. Do you even know what it's been like back here? First we lost the Tournament, then you left, then Eli, and everything here at home has been crazy. Dad's still talking about taking Cobra Kai down, Johnny left with Robby to—
"He left with Robby?" Miguel sucked in his breath, his gut dropping like an anchor at the mention of those names.
Another long moment of quiet cut between them.
Sam stared, mouth agape, making it clear he'd focused on the wrong thing. Her face reddened, and her next words were heated. "Miguel, you really hurt me!" she exclaimed, this time not bothering to wipe her tears back, allowing them to fall unfettered down her cheeks instead. "Do you know how many times I thought you might be dead? How many times I wondered why you totally blocked me out? How I thought it must mean you didn't trust me? I kept waiting for you to call me and say you were coming home, but you didn't, and it sounds like you're not even doing it now. And all this time, I wanted to think there had to be a reason for this, but it sounds like you don't have any reason not to come home, but you're staying there anyway?!"
Miguel could only stare at her from his side of the screen, his shoulders drooping as deep anguish fell over him like a weighted blanket. He'd been right. He'd ruined this. He'd abandoned Sam when she'd needed his support and only made things worse for her by taking off. How could he expect her to be so understanding of what he was going through when he couldn't even comprehend the shit she must've been dealing with in his absence?
It's not fair to her.
He thought briefly of the drawings of Sam he'd penciled earlier in the sketchbook Hawk had bought him. How hard it had been to get her wavy hair right. He had still hoped to hear what she would have had to say about those sketches if he ever had the chance to show them to her.
"I'm sorry," was all Miguel could manage to say again. And he was. He was so very sorry. But what was it Sensei Lawrence had told Hawk once?
Talk is cheap.
"Sam, can you please do me just one favor?" Miguel didn't even give her a chance to respond. The request came spilling out of him. "Can you let everyone, especially my mom and Yaya, know that I'm okay?"
The previous anger melted off her face as Sam's expression softened back into concern; Miguel would have preferred she kept the anger, he'd more than earned it. "Wait, why don't—"
The screen went blank, cutting Sam off when Miguel suddenly ended the call, hanging up on her. When his phone immediately went off as she tried redialing him, Miguel ended that by blocking her number again.
For a long while, he sat there in silence in his chair, staring down at his cell, questioning whether the conversation with her had even happened at all, or whether this was just some dream he was having that was shaping up to have an unhappy ending.
It didn't feel real, but Miguel knew it was. The consequences of his actions had started catching up to him. It was over, and it was his fault.
Tossing his practically-untouched coffee in the trashcan, Miguel lumbered all the way back to the hostel like a zombie. Hawk was still asleep when he got there, barely having moved from his spot under the blankets. His friend had no clue what had just transpired while he was resting.
Slipping off his shoes, Miguel climbed back into his bed, cocooning himself under the comforter. Resting his head on his cool pillow, he stared at the bare wall beside him, with only the sounds of Hawk's breathing and the ceiling fan reaching his ears. Until a sniffle escaped him. Then another.
Miguel took a couple of deep breaths and closed his eyes.