She didn't mean to wake up late at night. She just couldn't help it. Too many thoughts.
Victoria slid out of her bed, careful not to make too much noise. Makeing sure she didn't wake up Tía Rosita when she opened the door, she tiptoed down the hallway with a book in her hand. She was planning to go downstairs and read to lull herself back to sleep, but she stopped walking when she heard shuffling around in one of the bedrooms.
Mamá Imelda and Héctor's bedroom.
Confused, she crept inside, hoping not to wake either of them as looked around.
It didn't seem like anyone was awake, so when Victoria heard the noise again, it creeped her out.
She whirled around and caught sight of Héctor, who was moving in his sleep. He even laughed a bit.
Victoria huffed and rolled her eyes. Even sleeping Héctor showed his true self: always in motion.
She strode over to his side of the bed and stared at him. He looked content and peaceful. Relaxed and joyful. As much as he sometimes put her on edge, she liked seeing him like this.
She looked at his nightstand again. On it were his songbook and his toys.
Victoria grimmaced. His toys.
Adults shouldn't have toys, hommade or not. It disturbed her just looking at them.
She hadn't played with toys since she was ten years old, when one of her sister's amigos caught her with her favorite doll. She'd vowed never to play toys again. But it looked like Héctor hadn't lost intrest yet.
Victoria rolled her eyes again. Typical Héctor Rivera.
She picked one toy up. His faced looked like one side had been stepped on. Or mashed against. It had many dents in it. Big ones too. The toy was made out of paper, but it still looked real. Victoria set it down.
Looking around some more, she picked up his songbook and opened it. She knew it was wrong to snoop, but she couldn't help it. Besides, Héctor wouldn't mind, would he? And Victoria would be extra quiet. No one would ever know.
In the dim light coming from the side window, Victoria turned to the first page. The song written there was titled Everyday Fun. Obviously, Héctor wrote that when he was little. And she could tell it was for Ernesto de la Cruz. This song had him and Héctor's friendship all over it.
Victoria scoffed.
She turned a few more pages. Un poco loco was next. For Mamá Imelda, she guessed, smiling. There was a person that deserved a song for herself.
She moved to the next. Remember me. For Mamá, Victoria smiled wider. Her smile disappears when she reads the next song. The world es mi familia. Another one for Ernesto. Victoria glared at the title. She couldn't believe Héctor wasted two of his songs on the person who made his life be over. Literally.
Victoria feels herself rip a corner of the page, and she stops momentarily. She swallows, hoping no one saw.
Unfortunately someone did.
"Victoria?"