It was six blocks from my grandmother's house to Julio's. His father was probably at work, which meant Julio would be alone. People stared as I ran. A few yelled at me for running too close to them. I didn't care.

It took me longer than I wanted to get to the Garcias', but I finally made it. The front door was locked. I ran to the side of the house and hopped the fence. I knew there was a spare key to the back door, but I also knew they rarely locked that door if someone was home. I thankfully found it unlocked and ran down to Julio's bedroom. His bedroom door was open, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me. As I made my way around the bed, I realized Julio had his father's gun in his hand.

He looked up when he heard me. His eyes were red and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. The look on his face was one of misery.

"Go away," he said gruffly.

"Not happening," I told him. "I'm not going to let you do this."

Julio sniffled and shook his head. "What do you care?"

"You're my best friend, and that's just one of many reasons," I said. I was careful not to move quickly and startle him. Even if he didn't shoot himself, he could accidentally shoot me.

"Best friend?" Julio asked, his tone angry. "What best friend? You freaked out on me when I told you that stuff, then I tried to take it back and it wasn't good enough. You kept pushing and then said we had to stop hooking up. You said I was forcing you. And then I haven't seen you in a week. WHAT FUCKING BEST FRIEND?" He screamed the last part, angry tears falling down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Julio," I said. "I've been a shitty friend, okay? I know you wouldn't force me to do anything. I'm sorry I said it. I was nervous. Please put the gun down."

Julio stood up suddenly and I braced myself for something. An attack from him, or maybe the need to tackle him so he couldn't shoot one of us. He started pacing, the gun in his right hand, his left hand clenched in a tight fist, and his breathing was shaky. I stood still and watched him pace without speaking. I'd never imagined seeing Julio like this. I had seen him lose his temper and be angry at his father more times than I could count. I'd seen him get into arguments with Mariana and Eduardo. But never with me. We never fought, not until his confession at Thanksgiving. And this was beyond any anger I'd seen out of him. He usually walked away and pulled himself together. He might be distant for a day or two, but then he was back to his usual joking self. The word that kept springing to mind was unhinged.

"You don't know what it's like to lose everyone you love," Julio said. "My fucking dad walked away, my mom shipped me off here because she couldn't be fuckin' bothered to deal with me, my grandma can't remember me anymore, and now I've lost you."

"You haven't lost me," I told him. "I'm right here. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I thought you were mad at me."

Julio continued to pace, and I realized my heart was pounding in my ears. Mentally I could keep myself in check, but my young body wasn't as disciplined as my mind. It was responding to a threat.

"You don't get it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just go away."

"No. Tell me. What don't I understand?"

Julio continued to pace in front of me, the only sound in the room coming from the television. Voices I didn't recognize talked about David Beckham's recent move from Manchester United to Real Madrid and what it meant for the team's chances. It was a bizarre feeling to have such mundane discussions happening while my best friend was walking around with a gun in his hand.

"Tell me. Please," I asked again. "I want to understand."

Julio collapsed on the edge of the bed again as quickly as he had stood up. He seemed like he didn't have the energy in him to take another step. He had stopped crying and was staring blankly at the ground by my feet. He was disassociating. I recognized the look because I'd seen it on too many soldiers during my time in the Army. I'd probably had the look on my own face from time to time. Some people might be tricked into believing it was all over, but I knew this was probably the most dangerous point since I'd walked in the room. People disassociated when they couldn't deal with what was in front of them. This was the look on their faces when they pulled the trigger, either on someone else or themselves.

"I meant what I said back in November," he began, his voice distracted. "I love you and I want to be with you. Always have. Ever since we met."

If I ever thought I had a chance of being with you, I'd leave her in a second.

I gingerly stepped forward, trying not to startle him, but wanting to get closer. I kept my eyes on the gun in his hand and I was prepared to jump if I had to. He didn't react as I moved but kept staring miserably at the same spot on the floor. I reached the edge of the bed and slowly sat down next to him. He didn't react to that either.

"You haven't lost me," I said quietly. "You never will."

I reached to put my hand on his arm and waited to see how he reacted. When he did nothing, I slowly moved my hand down to take the gun from him. I'd anticipated resistance but didn't find any. He let me take the gun, and I immediately popped open the cylinder and emptied the bullets into my hand. I put the gun on the bed and the bullets in my pocket.

"I'm sorry I don't feel the same way," I told him. "And I'm sorry for freaking out like I did when you told me."

Tears fell down Julio's cheeks again, and I put an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into me and sobbed in earnest. I held him and let him cry, relieved to have the most dangerous part done. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and realized he must have been drinking so he could work up the nerve to pull the trigger. It wasn't until I was sitting on the bed that I could see the bottle of whiskey on the floor between the bed and nightstand.

I thought back to his wedding and his confession. I'd wondered how I hadn't seen it. Had there been signs? I suspected I had been intentionally ignoring anything I saw because I didn't want to entertain the idea of either of us not being straight as arrows.

I know I've never had a chance with you. You made that clear senior year.

Last time I had simply ignored his confession after my blow up and pretended it never happened. He had held onto his feelings for the next twenty years, doing his best to keep them in check during the few chances we had to see each other. His wedding weekend had been the most contact we'd had since high school, and it had clearly brought his feelings to the surface.

What should I do? I had already changed things so much with him that I had no clue what the future held. Last time we had resumed our sexual relationship and kept it going until graduation. We had walked away from each other still friends and in significantly better mental health than when we had met. I was afraid I'd done too much damage to fix it. My attempt to be a better friend to Julio and do what felt like the right thing had backfired spectacularly.

You'll just always be the one that got away.

That's how he had thought of me twenty years from now. There he was in a luxurious resort in Key West about to marry a beautiful, intelligent woman who loved him, and he'd wanted me. Even then. I had no doubt that if I'd spoken up during the wedding and said let's go that he would have smiled, grabbed my hand, and not let go until we made it to a wedding chapel in Vegas.

Could I do it? Should I do it? Did I want to?

Julio's sobs eventually settled, and he sat up and wiped his eyes. He got up and I heard him go into the bathroom to blow his nose. He returned a minute later looking more connected with reality. He walked around the other side of the bed and laid down on top of his blanket. He stared up at the ceiling with his hands folded across his stomach.

"You can go," he said. "I won't do anything."

"Where do the gun and bullets go?" I asked.

"That cigar box on the table by the kitchen."

I put the gun and bullets back in the box, shaking my head at Jaime Garcia's recklessness with his gun. To call Jaime laid-back would be the understatement of the century. The man was apathy in human form. How he and Julio's mother had ever ended up together was beyond me. She was the opposite of him— vibrant, loud, charismatic, and bold. As much as he would hate to hear it, Julio was a good combination of his parents, at least in terms of personality.

I took a minute to figure out my next move. I could leave like he suggested, but I didn't want to. I thought about Julio at the rehearsal dinner, when we had made eye contact across the table. The feeling I had refused to examine back then was bubbling back up, but I had no idea what it was. Okay, that wasn't entirely true. I didn't know what it was because I still couldn't bring myself to explore it. I was afraid of what I might find.

After another ten seconds of deliberation, I made my decision and went back to his room. He hadn't moved from the position he'd been in when I left. I closed the bedroom door behind me and pressed the button to lock it. I walked over to the windows and started closing the blinds. The houses were so close in this area that you could watch television with your neighbor. Julio and I had never been interested in an audience.

He turned to look at me as I closed the first blind. "What are you doing?" he asked. I didn't say anything as I kicked off my shoes. I saw his eyes widen as I started to strip. I laid my t-shirt, jeans, and boxers over the back of his desk chair, never breaking eye contact with him. I had my mind closed off to everything but that moment. I was worried that I might not respond the way I needed to, but my eighteen-year-old body didn't need much help. Just seeing the expression on Julio's face and the bulge forming in his shorts was enough to get me hard.

"I'll give you whatever you need," I told him. "But promise me that you won't try to kill yourself."

Julio sat up and glared at me. "I don't want a pity fuck."

I walked over to the bed and pulled him to stand. "This isn't pity," I told him as I kissed him.

I could feel Julio trembling slightly as I wrapped my arms around him. It was hesitant at first, but quickly became more passionate as he wrapped his arms around me. I pulled his t-shirt off over his head and he pulled his shorts down as soon as his hands were free. I pushed him back on the bed and he scrambled up to put his head on the pillows.

"Promise me," I said, laying on top of him. I had my mouth at his neck and my erection was digging into his hip. "Promise me you won't try that again."

"I promise," he said, his voice shaking. "I won't do it again."

I was vaguely aware that this was the first time we had done this sober—well, at least I was sober, and wondered what Julio was thinking. He wasn't as drunk as he usually was when we were together, so I didn't feel like I was taking advantage of him. But there wasn't enough blood flow to my brain to think about all this too much. Even in my late thirties I'd had a strong sex drive. I had forgotten how intense it was at eighteen. It was probably a miracle I hadn't fathered a hoard of children by the time I got Rachel pregnant.

The sound of soccer discussion in the background was accompanied by the squeak of the bed springs, the rapid, aggressive thumping of the headboard against the wall, and our combined moans. Adrenaline and lust coursed through my body, fueled by teenage hormones and nerves. When I rolled off him five minutes later, I was breathing hard, and my heart was pounding in my ears. I laid on the bed next to him and listened to his own heavy breathing.

"Goddamn," Julio said breathlessly. "That was— fuck."

I was still trying to find enough breath to speak. My older body had gotten used to processing adrenaline efficiently over the years, but this version hadn't gone through those experiences yet. I was shaking slightly and took deep, calming breaths to get it under control. I looked over at Julio and found him watching me. He scanned my body before leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a towel that had been on the floor. He ran it across my abdomen, wiping up the evidence of his orgasm before cleaning himself.

We laid together on our sides facing each other. It was weird to look at him like this. Every other time we'd been together I'd hurried up to get out of there without a backwards glance.

"You aren't drunk," he commented. I shook my head. "I'm not really drunk, just buzzed," he said. "I liked it."

So had I, which was another feeling I didn't want to explore right now.

"What can I do?" I asked. "I don't want to hurt you, and I don't really know how to avoid it. I tried what I thought was right and you about blew your brains out."

Julio watched me and I could see the wheels turning in his head. "You don't have to do anything," he said. "I'll be fine."

"Don't do that. Tell me," I said. "We've got enough shit to do this semester to graduate. I don't need to spend it trying to figure out what's going on in your head."

Julio looked uncomfortable and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "You won't do it."

"I swear to God, Julio. I'm going to kick your ass if you don't give me an answer," I said impatiently.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the ceiling. He mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"What did you say? I don't speak mumble."

He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "I said I want you to be my boyfriend," he answered in sulky tone.

It was my turn to sigh. "We've talked about this. I don't feel the same way."

"I know!" he snapped. "That's why I said you wouldn't do it. Never mind, just go home. I won't blow my brains out." His glare at the ceiling became more pronounced and if he crossed his arms any tighter, they'd break.

Way to fucking go, Carlos. Why hadn't I just stuck to the previous script? Once I remembered what had happened, I could have just kept my mouth shut, had sex with him until school got out, and moved on. Or I should have just died and gone on to whatever was waiting for me. Hell had to be less torture than teenage relationships.

"We can't be together like that," I told him. "The kids at school would make our lives hell. So would everyone else in the neighborhood. Our families would lose their shit."

"We're eighteen. We can do whatever we want," he replied. "And I want to be with you."

"I thought we weren't gay."

"We aren't."

"Don't you think dating would make us gay?" I asked. "That's sort of the definition of it."

"I don't like other guys. Just you," he said, finally turning his head to look at me. "I'm not gay."

Latino culture wasn't generally kind to gay men. Being gay was seen by many as shameful and insulting to your family. I knew plenty of Latino men were living life on the downlow. Being bisexual wasn't any better. People thought you were either on a stop over to gay or it was considered a phase. Your grandmother or mother took you to church and had you confessing to the priest.

"Straight guys aren't dating and fucking other men," I told him. "It's okay if you're bi. But I'm not."

Julio snorted. "I wasn't the one about to put my headboard through the wall," he said. "If I'm bi, then so are you."

I'd walked into that one. Was I bisexual? I had never allowed myself to consider the possibility in high school the first time, and since I'd never been with a man afterwards it hadn't seemed to matter. What did it say about me that I was willing to have sex with my male best friend? I didn't believe I was sexually attracted to him, but something must be there. I had wanted to believe it was just teenage hormones. But if I genuinely wasn't attracted to him at all, I wouldn't have been able to perform. It would be like trying to get an erection with Mariana. My stomach lurched at the idea, and I shuddered. Definitely no hard-on with that thought. I felt like I needed to bathe in bleach and go to confession.

"We can't tell people," I said. "You know we can't. Can you imagine walking home from school if people knew about us? We'd get our asses beat."

He knew I was right. And it didn't matter that we were eighteen and legal adults, our families would try to keep us apart.

"I don't want us to just be fucking," he said. "I want us to be together. I don't care if no one else knows. We'd know."

"I don't know what the right answer is," I confessed. "I don't want to lead you on, but I also don't want you killing yourself if I say I don't want that."

"I said I wouldn't," he replied impatiently.

"Then I can tell you that I don't want to be together like that and you won't go in there and try to blow your brains out?" I asked directly. "I'll have sex, but I don't want to be in a relationship."

"So you'll let me put my dick in you, but I can't call you my boyfriend?"

I sat up on the edge of the bed and gripped it in frustration. "Why do you want us to be in a relationship?"

Julio's looked back at the ceiling again. "Oh, come on, do I have to say it? Can't we just be together and say that shit when it comes up?"

I stared at him. When I was older, that had been enough to get people to shut up or do what they were told. I wasn't intimidating at eighteen, and it showed by Julio's thorough lack of fear.

"What would be different? Really?"

He considered it for a minute. "I don't know," he said, shyly. "I just want to be close to you. Not just when we hook up, but like other times too. I know we can't go out together like that around here, but maybe we could go out of town sometimes."

Despite how well I'd known him, I had never seen him like this. Julio wasn't the shy type. He wasn't afraid to tell you what he was thinking. He had admitted to me in the last life that he'd be with me if I'd give him the chance. I was seeing now just how deep his feelings had gone even in high school.

"Can I think about it?" I asked, deciding that was the best course of action.

Julio looked over at me again, a surprised look on his face. "Yeah."

I nodded. "Okay, I'll think about it." I grabbed my clothes off the chair. "I need to go or Mariana's going to come look for me and want to know what's going on. I ran out of the house like the cops were after me when I realized what you were going to do."

Julio sat up. "What are you going to tell her?"

"That you were in a bad mood, talked about graduation, moving, all that stuff. You gave Jasmine that money because you felt guilty."

I took my clothes to the bathroom, cleaned up enough to not smell like sex, but also not enough to look like I just took a shower. I dressed and left the bathroom to find Julio in the kitchen making a sandwich.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said. He nodded and I left the house, feeling good about not rushing to a decision.

Jasmine and Mariana were waiting for me when I got back to the house an hour later. They gave me the third degree about why I'd taken off for Julio's house. I told them I'd been worried about him but found him and we had talked. Once they were reassured he was safe, they let me go up to my room.

School resumed the next day and went as it normally did. Lunch was awkward because Julio and Jasmine both sat at our usual table, but Mariana and Eduardo worked to keep the conversation as normal as possible. Jasmine spent most of the time reading a book.

Julio and I had the last class of the day together, which was English Lit. Our classroom was set up with several long tables with enough room for three students to a table. The class was small enough that most tables only had two people. We sat by ourselves at the back of the class. We were starting The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner. Most of the class hated the idea and were planning to cheat off the few people who did care. I would cheat off Julio because despite his attempts at coming off as a badass to the world at large and a laughing, joking guy to his friends, I knew he was a huge nerd who loved to read. He had a stash of books he kept hidden under his bed. I had discovered them one day when I'd been looking for some change I'd dropped. I'd laughed my ass off and he had threatened to kick it if I told anyone.

"Have you decided yet?" Julio whispered as Mrs. Johnson talked about William Faulkner.

"No."

"Do you know when?" he asked a minute later once the teacher had turned her back to the class to write on the board.

"Not really. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours," I murmured, pretending to take notes to keep the teacher's roving eyes off us.

I felt him press his leg up against mine and leave it there. I shifted to put some distance between us. I had noticed him watching me over lunch when he thought the others were distracted. The look in his eyes had been unmistakable, and if anyone saw it there would be questions that I didn't want to answer. A minute later, his leg was pressing against mine once more. I waited until we were given an assignment to discuss the book with our table partners to say something.

"Stop," I whispered.

"Stop what?"

"Pressing your leg against mine. And looking at me like you did at lunch."

"How was I looking at you?" Julio asked, opening his copy of the book because the teacher was looking in our direction.

"Like you wanted to fuck me in the middle of the cafeteria."

Julio grinned at me unapologetically. "I did."

"Our friends are going to notice and start asking questions."

"So? I'm not afraid to tell them," he said with a shrug. "I'm not hiding it. Fuck them if they don't like it."

I wrote down some answers on the worksheet we had been given at the beginning of class. "I don't really want anyone to know. So can you tone it down?"

I felt Julio tense up next to me. "You ashamed of me?"

I suppressed a groan. Jesus Christ. Was this what I had to look forward to for the next six months?

"I don't like people in my personal business," I told him. "You know how Mariana is. Besides, she'd tell my grandmother and mother and then we'd be fucked."

"It's fucking bullshit," Julio muttered angrily. "No one cared when I started dating Jasmine. But if they find out I'm dating you then it's going to be a big deal."

It was probably a good thing I didn't own a gun right now. I'd be tempted to go back to Newark Airport. While the class shared their answers on the worksheet, I thought about Julio's wish for us to be a couple. What difference did it really make? I was already planning to continue the sexual relationship through graduation. Would some increased intimacy behind closed doors be that much different? I was already confused about what it all meant about my sexuality. Letting him call me his boyfriend wasn't going to make it any worse.

I waited until we were walking home and hung back slightly from Mariana so she couldn't hear me.

"If it's that important to you, then I'll do it," I said. Julio's face broke out into a delighted smile. Seeing his unadulterated joy made me feel something I couldn't name.

"Can you come over after Dad goes to work?" he asked.

"I'm at the bakery until seven," I told him. "I can come over for a little bit. But you know my grandmother doesn't like me out late on school nights. We might be adults, but I'll still get the chancla if I'm home too late."

Julio looked so delighted with the situation he seemed like nothing would dampen his mood.

I hurried home and up to my bedroom. I had to get changed and be at the bakery by three-fifteen. I had forgotten the routine of school then work, so I was rushed to make it in time.

"Why are you late?" my grandmother asked. If you weren't fifteen minutes early, you were late in my grandmother's eyes.

"I'm right on time," I said, clocking in. "I was talking to Julio. He and Jasmine broke up yesterday, so I was checking on him."

My grandmother adored Julio, so she always wanted to know what was going on with him. I got to work with my job duties while she talked. I made comments to let her know I was listening because if I didn't, she would yell at me for not listening, but if I waited around and listened too intently, she would be on me to get to work. The world according to Isabela Carranza was that you should know exactly what needed to be done at all times and be able to juggle fourteen other tasks as well. She hadn't fled Castro so her children and grandchildren could become lazy assholes.

"Carlos, I'm so proud of you," she said suddenly. It was so unexpected I stopped what I was doing to stare at her.

"Why?"

She smiled at me and put a hand on my cheek. "You've grown up so much lately. It's so nice to see you being happy and mature. You were so angry when you first moved here. I was afraid you would get caught up in the gangs or with drugs. But you haven't. You work hard here, you go to school, and you'll graduate in a few months. It just makes me so happy."

I kissed my grandmother on the cheek and wrapped an arm around her in a half-hug. Despite growing up for the first fourteen years with Grandma Rosa in my home, I'd always been closer to my Grandma Isabela. When Grandma was pregnant with Mariana, she was due to give birth in mid-September, which is prime hurricane season. My grandfather was paranoid that Miami would get hit by a tropical storm or hurricane and that my grandmother and the baby would be at risk, so at the end of July that year she had moved up to Newark and lived with my family until Mariana was born. I had been born on August 12th, and Mariana wasn't due for another five weeks. I was ten days old when Mariana decided to show up. My grandfather was still in Miami, so my parents had driven Grandma to the hospital with me in the backseat. Mariana had been born in the car on the way to the hospital. Patience had never been one of her strengths.

My mother and grandmother joked that they raised us like a couple of mother cats. They would nurse whatever baby was nearest and hungry, take turns getting up with us at night, and carried both of us around the house while they did whatever needed to be done. Three days before Grandma and Mariana were supposed to go back to Miami, lightning struck the house and caused a fire. That led to Grandma and Mariana living with us for another six months while the house was repaired. Mariana and I slept in the same crib until we were almost eight months old. My mother and grandmother had sobbed when it came time for them to go back to Miami. They had both felt like the mothers to what were practically twins. Mom said I must have thought Grandma was my mother because I cried nonstop for two weeks after she left. Mariana said it was because I missed her so much. I said that it was out of relief to have my own bed for the first time.

The bakery was busy until closing time, which meant I worked right up to seven. I'd told Grandma that I need to study with Julio for English Lit after work and she had thought it was a great idea. It gave me a little more time before she would expect me to be home.

Julio was waiting for me when I knocked on the door at seven-fifteen. He locked the door behind us and practically dragged me to his bedroom. The door was shut, and he was backing me up against the bed, kissing me hungrily as he worked at my belt. It didn't take long before we were both naked and he was reaching for the bottle of lube he kept hidden in his mattress.

He groaned loudly as he pushed into me, and I found myself breathless at the sensation. It had been so long that I had forgotten how it felt. A small part of my brain said I was clearly in denial if I thought I could feel like this and consider myself straight.

"Papi, that was so fucking good," he murmured a few minutes later as he held me close. I could feel his heart pounding under my hand. My own heart was pounding wildly in my chest. I didn't respond to his comment. I didn't know what to say. He was in love with me and not trying to hide it anymore. I wasn't in love with him and didn't want to get his hopes up that I ever would be.

He suggested we take a shower, and we spent more time getting each other off than getting clean.

Julio was a physically affectionate person by nature, even though he tried to keep it out of the broader public eye. He hugged his friends and family every time he saw us, so it wasn't uncommon for him to hug me. But in the privacy of his bedroom, he wanted to touch me almost constantly. Over the next few weeks, as we continued our routine of hanging out while his father was at work, I noticed that even when we weren't having sex that he was always close. If we were watching television, he would have his arm around me, would sit with me between his legs leaning back against him, or vice versa. Even when we were playing video games and needed more space, he would have his legs entangled with mine. Thankfully, he was being more discreet in public. I would see him watching me sometimes, but it was less obvious. Our friends hadn't noticed anything between us the first time around and didn't seem to be noticing this time either. Jasmine and Julio had eventually gotten back to being friends and the awkwardness that had lingered around the lunch table the first few weeks vanished.

"We need to figure out what we want to do for spring break," Mariana said at the end of February. "We only have a month."

"Do we have to do anything?" I asked. "I'd rather sleep."

"It's our last spring break!" Mariana exclaimed. "We have to do something."

"I'm going to Texas with my parents to see Baylor," Jasmine said apologetically.

"Dad is making me work," Eduardo said. His father was a mechanic and Eduardo worked at the front counter. "The regular people will be gone with their kids for spring break."

"I don't have the money," Ciara replied. "I'm saving up for prom."

"I'm going to Chicago to see my mom and sisters," Julio said.

Mariana huffed impatiently. "Fine. Paolo and I'll just do something on our own then."

Paolo looked guilty. "We're going back to Italy to visit my grandmother," he said with a grimace. "I didn't know you wanted to do anything."

Mariana was quiet the rest of lunch once her dreams of spring break were dashed. That had happened the last time. I had enjoyed staying home, sleeping as much as possible, eating as much of my grandmother's food as I could manage, training for spring track, working when I was scheduled, and I planned to repeat it. My life was less busy now than it had been in my former adult life, but it was far more social and that was exhausting. The mental age difference between myself and the rest of the group had started to bother me less the longer I was back in this part of my life. Maybe I hadn't been all that mature in my late thirties. Did any man really mature much past his teen years?

"Do you want to go to Chicago with me?" Julio asked me in English class later that day.

"Mariana would murder me in my sleep before I could even buy a plane ticket," I told him. "She's annoyed that everyone has plans."

"She could come. She could hang out with my sisters."

"She would hate that," I reminded him.

Julio had sisters who were triplets and two years younger than us. I had met them over the years when they had come to visit their father and brother over summers. Mariana had hated all of them, but I had always chalked it up to jealousy because they were gorgeous. Julio's mother was from Morocco and his father was second-generation Nicaraguan-American. Julio greatly resembled his sisters, but they looked slightly more like their mother.

Amira Idrissi was a laboratory technician who had met Jaime Garcia while working at the same hospital in Chicago. Julio had the impression that the relationship was never meant to go far, but when she got pregnant with Julio, they decided to get married and try to make it work. They had stayed unhappily married until the girls were eight, when Jaime decided he wanted to move to Miami to be closer to his parents. Amira told him she wasn't moving, and they divorced, leaving her with the four kids in Chicago. Much of Julio's behavioral issues had stemmed from his anger towards his father for leaving the family.

"I really want you to go," he said. "I'll miss you."

I waited until the teacher was back at her desk until I said anything. "You'll have to get used to it someday. We're graduating in June, and then heading back to our hometowns."

"Are we breaking up when school is over?" he asked.

"I figured we were since we'll be about 800 miles apart. You and Jasmine weren't going to stay together after school for the same reason."

Our conversation was interrupted by the end of class. We went to our lockers to grab our things and headed towards home.

"Maybe I should go to Rutgers," Julio said as we walked away from the school.

"It's probably too late for that. Besides, you should go back to Chicago. You've done nothing but bitch about how much you've missed it for the last four years."

Julio was quiet after that, and I knew he wasn't liking my answers. What did he expect?

"Can we try the long-distance thing?" he asked after a block.

I suppressed a groan. He wasn't going to give up easily. "Julio, I thought this was just a thing we were doing here," I said. "You know I don't feel the same way you do."

Julio stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I wish you did."

Guilt punched me in the gut again. The situation with Julio always felt like I was screwing up and hurting him more no matter how hard I tried otherwise. The truth was I enjoyed being with him. I'd missed Stephanie and the intimacy that came with the relationship. The teenage aspect of the relationship had made it complicated at times but seemed to fill in for the chaos I had with Stephanie. Even though I wasn't in love with him, I liked the closeness. It would be hard to leave him after graduation. I knew we would remain friends, but how would our friendship change now that we had changed our relationship?

"Don't change your plans for school," I told Julio once we arrived at his house. "I don't want you to change your life to be with me. I'm considering the Army if I don't like school. I probably will join in a couple of years. I want to get in better shape first and save up some money. Who knows where I'd be stationed, and we're in the middle of a war. I could get killed. It wouldn't be fair to you."

Julio furrowed his brow. "Jesus, Carlos. Don't say that shit. I get it that we can't stay together. You don't have to take it that far. Goddamn."

"I'm just trying to be straight with you," I told him.

"I know."

I left him at his house and went on to my own. I was glad that he understood and didn't seem to expect we would stay together. It would let me leave without a guilty conscience. It was bad enough lying to everyone. I didn't need to hurt them along the way.

"I'm so bored!" Mariana complained on day three of spring break. "We should have done something."

"Do you really think Grandma would have let us off work?" I asked her as I ate my second bowl of cereal for the morning.

"She might have," Mariana said. I thought it more likely that Grandma would go back to Havana and single-handedly take Cuba back from Castro.

"We still get to hang out with Eduardo," I said as he strolled into the kitchen. Mariana rolled her eyes.

"Who cares? He's family. We can see him anytime."

"What's put our favorite tía in such a bad mood?" Eduardo asked. Mariana smacked him with the kitchen towel.

"Fuck you," she said.

"Mariana!"

All three of us grimaced. "Sorry, Maria," she said to her sister. Maria was Eduardo's mother and the oldest of my grandmother's children. She gave her youngest sister a disapproving look before placing a heavy box on the kitchen table. "You three need to start addressing graduation announcements."

"What?" Mariana asked. "It's spring break."

"So? This needs to get done," Maria said. "You can send one invitation to this side of the family for the three of you, then start sending out invitations for any other family members on the other side."

"How many invitations are there?" I asked.

"About two hundred," she said. "Most people won't come, but they'll send you money."

A list for the Carranza side of the family was put on the table between us. Eduardo was handed a Rodriguez list, and I was given a Manoso list. I finished my cereal and the three of us spent the next four hours addressing envelopes to people we either rarely saw or saw all the time. We bitched and moaned about it the entire time, but persevered to get it done so we could go to the beach. We fled the house as soon as we could before Maria or my grandmother could find something else for us to do on the one day we all had off work.

"Uh, what is that smell?" Mariana asked as we staked our claim to a spot on the beach. "It smells like ass."

Eduardo and I both sniffed the air. "The beach?" I suggested.

"Ass?" Eduardo said.

Mariana pinched her nose. "It's going to make me barf."

I knew it wasn't the smell of the beach that was going to make Mariana barf. She was three months pregnant and trying to hide it until after we graduated. I knew my grandmother would find out in May because she would catch Paolo and Mariana in bed together and see Mariana's pregnant belly outside of the baggy clothes she had started to wear in those past few weeks. My grandmother's yells had startled me. I'd run out of my room to see what was wrong, got a glimpse of naked Mariana and Paolo, and went back to my room regretting my life choices. This time around, I'd stay in my room.

I relaxed on the beach and listened to the sounds of Miami around me. Music, laughter, yells of kids playing with each other and parents warning their kids not to do whatever it was they weren't supposed to be doing filled the air around me. I could smell food from somewhere that didn't smell like ass despite Mariana's ongoing complaints. Should I say something? It would be better for all involved if my grandmother didn't have to find out the way she did the last time. But how could I explain my suspicions? I didn't have anything to pinpoint besides her occasional complaints of smells and wanting to vomit, which she never did in front of my grandmother.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" I asked her as she complained again about the smell. The look of shock on her face was all I needed to avoid any odd questions. "Holy shit! You are pregnant!" I said, sitting up quickly, hoping the look of shock on my face wasn't too overdone. Eduardo had been laying on his stomach and rolled over to face her.

"No fucking way!" he said. "Oh, Grandma is going to fucking kill you."

"You both had better keep your mouths shut!" she ordered, a harsh finger pointed in our direction. "I don't want her to know until after graduation."

"You know you can't hide it forever, right?" Eduardo asked. "Like eventually the kid is going to show up."

"I'm only like three months," she said. "I'll wear some bigger clothes until after graduation, then we'll tell her, and Paolo and I will get married."

"Why not just tell her now?" I suggested. "She's going to be pissed off no matter when you tell her."

"Because I don't want her ruining the rest of my senior year," she said. "If she knows I'm pregnant, she won't let me do anything."

"What is there to stop? You're already knocked up," Eduardo said. "She isn't going to be worried about your virginity."

"And it's not like you can drink or smoke," I reminded her. "So what's she going to keep you from doing?"

"She'll make my life hell," she shot back. "She'll walk around all upset, talking about how she had such big hopes for me. She'll beat me over the head with a guilt trip."

"She wants you to run the bakery. Having a baby isn't going to change that," I said. "You should just tell her. What if she finds out some other way?"

"She isn't unless you two tell her."

"Or she finally figures out that you aren't just extra tired on Saturdays and that you really go to bed early so you can sneak Paolo in to screw him all night," I said. "I can't believe she hasn't figured it out already."

"Damn," Eduardo said, looking impressed. "That takes balls, Mariana."

Mariana's resolve was looking less certain as we laid out the arguments. We sat on the beach for a few minutes while she looked lost in thought.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "If she doesn't know then I don't have to think about it so much."

"Don't you need to see a doctor?" Eduardo asked.

"I've been going to someone outside of the neighborhood," she said. She put a hand on her stomach and sighed. "I'll tell her tonight. That'll give her a few days to calm down before Paolo comes back from Italy. Then we'll tell his parents."

"We're going to do something far away from the house, right?" Eduardo muttered to me. I nodded.

"Oh no, you two are going to be there as moral support. Or bodyguards," she said. "I'm not doing this alone, especially since you two are the ones convincing me that I should tell her now. I may need you guys to trip her while I run for it."

Me and my big mouth. Oh well. I'd faced worse.

"How did this happen?" my grandmother shrieked that evening when we sat down in the living room with her. "You were on the Pill."

Mariana's eyes widened in surprise. "You knew that?"

"Of course I did. Just like I know you sneak Paolo in here every Saturday night when you try to act like you're so tired from working at the bakery," my grandmother said, standing up to pace and muttering a prayer under her breath. "I just told myself that at least I knew where you were, and you weren't going to become a teen mother. So much for that."

I was gobsmacked that she had known all of this and let it happen. What else did she know? I prayed to every saint in existence that she didn't know about Julio and me. I had the feeling Eduardo was likely praying that his own secrets were safe too. We listened to my grandmother grill Mariana about her plans for the next hour before she turned her interrogation on us. How long had we known? Did we have any girls pregnant out there? Eduardo swore he and Ciara weren't having sex, and I had the feeling he would buy a pregnancy test for her as soon as he left the house just to be sure. I told her I wasn't even seeing any girls, so unless I could get them pregnant by looking at them, I was probably safe. That earned me a smack upside the head for being a smartass.

Eduardo literally ran from the house once he deemed it safe. Mariana was sitting on the couch with puffy eyes, and I was standing in one corner looking for my chance to leave. My grandmother had paced the living room floor for an hour. I was surprised she hadn't worn the carpet away.

"I love you, Mariana," she said after twenty minutes of silence. "A baby is a blessing. I wish you were older, but we can't get stuck on all of that. We'll talk to Paolo's family when they get back from Italy. You two need to get married. You can live here until after you graduate and both get settled in your jobs."

"Mama, I'm not getting married before graduation," she said. "I don't even want people to know I'm pregnant. I don't want people staring at me and gossiping."

"How far along are you?"

"Fourteen weeks. I had my first appointment with the doctor last week."

"Did you get an ultrasound?"

Mariana nodded.

"Go get it," my grandmother said.

Mariana hurried upstairs to her room, and I continued to stand in the corner. I wasn't sure if moving was in my best interest. My grandmother turned her focus on me, and I shrank back. I didn't know why I was so afraid of her. I hadn't gotten anyone pregnant. But my grandmother could always scare the hell out of me, even in my thirties.

"Thank you for convincing her to tell me now," she said. "It's much better this way. There's more time to plan."

I nodded. "Can I go now?"

She jerked her head towards the stairs and while I didn't exactly run up them, I didn't waste any time getting up to my room either. Once I had the door shut, I pulled out my cell phone and found a missed call from Julio.

"Hey, sorry," I said when he answered. "Shit was going down over here, and I was afraid to move."

"What happened?" Julio asked.

"Mariana's pregnant, and she made Eduardo and me sit in with her to tell my grandmother."

Julio let out a short laugh. "Oh, fuck. Did your granny kill her?"

"No, they're looking at her ultrasound photo," I said. "I was granted parole and got the hell out of there. But not before Eduardo and I were grilled about whether we had gotten anyone pregnant."

"I haven't gotten my period yet, so we might be in trouble," Julio said seriously. What a comedian.

"I didn't mention any of that to her. She might have had a heart attack, or decided we weren't worth the hassle anymore and burned the house down with us all inside."

We talked about his time visiting his mother and sisters. His movements were more restricted in Chicago because his mother was terrified he would meet up with some of his old gang friends and get back into that circle. No amount of convincing her that he wasn't interested in that life anymore could move her.

"You need to come up here with me some time," he said. "I wanna take you to my favorite spots."

"I've never been to Chicago," I lied. "Sounds like fun." I'd been to Chicago several times but that hadn't happened at this point in my life.

"I miss you," Julio said. "College is going to fucking suck."

I would miss him too. Even in my last lifetime, I'd missed Julio after we graduated and went our separate ways. We kept in touch and saw each other when we could, but I'd still missed seeing him every day. I had considered offering him a job at the Miami office so we could see each other more often but had ultimately decided against it. I couldn't remember why now. Had I suspected something and pushed it away so I didn't have to think about it?

I went to bed that night thinking about Stephanie. She was in Trenton finishing high school and working at the Tasty Pastry part-time. I had struggled not to fixate on her during that first month after coming back to this life but was able to put her aside more these days. I knew I wouldn't see her until 2016, so I didn't think it was good for me to sit and dwell on her. I didn't know her at this time in her life, so it was hard to imagine what she might be doing. I had to stay focused on the present so that I didn't slip up and say something that would make people suspicious.

I had made more notes in my notebook about the future as information had come to me. I wrote about missions I'd been on and what I wanted to do differently. I remembered the women I had dated during college and my time in the Army. None of them had been serious relationships, and many of them had been booty calls. I had been reckless back then before getting Rachel pregnant, often forgoing a condom because it wasn't comfortable, or I'd been too lazy to grab one. I'd promise to pull out and managed it about a quarter of the time. Most of them were fine to see again in the future if I wanted. I marked a few people as definitely not get involved, Sarah Peterson being one of them. It was weird to see her as a teenager at school walking around with her friends instead of the overly confident realtor. She was younger than us and didn't really hang out with Jasmine at school. They had gotten closer as adults.

I put my notebook away and thought about the upcoming months. I would be going back to New Jersey in early June, which meant leaving Julio. My stomach twisted at the idea. The truth was I would love for him to come to Rutgers with me. I didn't have friends in New Jersey anymore. The ones I'd had long before I came to Miami were strangers now, and the ones I had in my previous life I hadn't met. It would be nice to have one friend. But I had the feeling that if we were in the same place, we wouldn't be able to stay just friends. And I had to get back to just friends with Julio. I couldn't risk his feelings getting stronger as we got older. They'd been intense enough in my past life. I didn't think I could handle them being any stronger in this one.