I don’t know how long I remain frozen on the spot, but even as the clouds outside the window shift and the light becomes a little softer, I’m still standing in the middle of the apartment, still taking deep breaths, still trying to put out the flames that are burning inside me.

23

“WOW.”

I don’t say anything.

“Wow. Matt, I had no idea any of this was going on.”

I lift my shoulders a little. “I know it’s crazy. But… that’s my family.”

“It’s not crazy,” Adam says. “But what are you gonna do? I mean, aren’t you gonna need your parents’ help if you want to send Sophie to Mexico?”

“I am,” I say. That’s exactly what kept me up last night, while me and my sister tossed and turned endlessly in bed. “I think my mom will come around. It’s been hard for her to get used to the idea of not being able to raise Sophie herself.”

“So what’s the problem, exactly?” Adam says.

“My dad,” I answer. “He’s never gonna give in. He’s stubborn—always has been. I guess it’s what helped him succeed with the bodega and everything, but now… I just feel like he’s not seeing things. He can’t see that Sophie needs them, and all the promises in the world aren’t gonna make a difference unless she’s able to go live in Mexico with them.”

I turn to look at the water. When I called Adam this morning and asked if we could hang out, it was he who suggested having a picnic at Hudson River Park. He brought everything—the blanket, the sandwiches, the snacks. He even brought a few wine coolers, which are probably responsible for loosening up my tongue. And now that I’ve started telling him all this, I can’t seem to stop.

“Have you talked to your parents since yesterday?”

“No,” I say, taking a swig from the bottle I’m holding in my hand. “I’ve barely even talked to Sophie. She went to bed early last night, and she pretty much ignored me all morning. I feel like she’s said what she’d been holding back for weeks, and now… she’s sort of just waiting for me to do something.”

Adam remains silent for a long time. But then, clutching his own bottle tight in his hand, he turns to me and asks, “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you also want to go to Mexico?”

I’m scared to tell him the truth. I don’t want to disappoint him, especially not now that we’ve barely started hanging out as more than friends.