chapter 10

Michelle’s POV

I sat by the window, staring out for what had to be an unhealthy amount of time.

There was still no sign of Uncle Pedro.

I had tried calling him several times, but the calls never went through again. I had even sent a text, yet there was still no response. With every passing minute, my uneasiness grew.

A soft movement beside me pulled me from my thoughts.

Patrick, Tracy’s brother, came over and sat near the window opposite me. This time, he held out a glass of sweet orange juice.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep right here waiting for that uncle of yours,” he said, handing it to me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, taking the glass from him and setting it briefly on the table before picking it up again.

“I don’t know, Patrick. He was supposed to be here by now.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

“Yes,” I said, taking a sip. “I already did.”

The cool sweetness of the juice lingered on my tongue, and I paused, glancing down at the glass.

“Wow,” I said softly. “This is really good.”

“Really?” he asked with a quiet chuckle. “I made it myself.”

I looked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s delicious,” I admitted.

His smile widened at first, but then it faded, and that look returned to his face again—that same unreadable look that always made my chest tighten.

Patrick.

When we were younger, he could barely stand me. He never wanted me around, and there were times I was sure my very presence annoyed him. He was distant, cold, and always seemed to keep himself as far from me as possible.

But somewhere along the way, things changed.

Now, he looked at me as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say, yet none of them ever made it past his lips. Over the last few years, he has become gentler with me. Softer. Kinder in ways I never would have imagined when we were children.

Maybe it was because he no longer saw me as that same little girl.

Maybe now, he saw me as a woman.

Tracy’s death had shattered something inside me, and for years, I carried that grief like a wound that refused to close. But during those dark days, Patrick had been there. He had stayed close, offering comfort in the quiet ways that mattered most. He became part of the little circle Lisa and I held onto so desperately. And when he stopped going to school for a while to mourn his sister as well, the three of us leaned on one another like survivors of the same storm.

Since then, we have become each other’s shelter.

And yet, there was still something restless in him. Something fierce.

I saw it sometimes—that flash of rage, that fire in his eyes whenever we were alone together. In my room. In his. In the silence between words, it would burn there, hot and restrained, as though he were fighting something inside himself.

And if I was being honest, I felt it too.

The way he looked at me made butterflies rise low in my stomach. It made the air between us feel heavier, charged with something neither of us dared name aloud. So many times, I felt as though he was on the verge of saying something—of finally breaking the tension that had stretched between us for so long.

But he always stopped himself.

And deep down, I knew one thing for certain.

If Uncle Pedro weren’t in the picture, Patrick would have been my first choice.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, of course.” I lifted the glass to my mouth again and took a small sip.

“Do you have a date for your birthday party yet?”

“Hmm... not yet.” I set the glass back down on the table.

He hesitated. “Well... can I be your date?”

“Really?” I nearly choked.

“Yeah, I mean...” He scratched the back of his head and turned to look the other way. It was almost unfair how cute he looked when he was shy.

I smiled.

“Who would suit that position better than me?” he added, a little more confidently this time.

A small laugh slipped from my lips. “Alright. I mean, yeah... who else is better suited?”

His eyes widened. “Really? So I’ll be your date?”

“Yeah, sure. Not just for my birthday, either. You can be my date to prom too.”

I paused, then added softly, “That is, if you want to.”

“What? Of course I want to. Yes—yes.” He stood up abruptly, trying to compose himself as he took a deep breath.

I laughed out loud. “Come on, Patrick, it’s not that big a deal,” I said.

He sat back down and reached for my hand where it rested on the table.

“It is a big deal to me, Michelle. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me today. I’m so happy I could explode. Thank you,” he said, staring at me like I was the only person in the world.

I smiled and nodded, and for a moment we just sat there, looking at each other.

“What am I missing here?” Lisa’s voice cut through the moment.

I immediately pulled my hand away from Patrick’s. I didn’t want Lisa getting any ridiculous ideas and spreading rumors. She could be loud, dramatic, and far too quick to start stories that weren’t even true.

“Where have you been?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“Getting hamburgers and milkshakes,” she said as she sat down beside me, pulling a bag of food onto the table. “One for you, Michelle, one for you, handsome”—she winked at Patrick—“and one for me, the smartest and prettiest among us.”

“You’re so full of yourself, Lisa,” Patrick said, and we all laughed.

“Oh, says Mr. D-in-every-subject.”

“Oh boy,” I muttered, glancing at Lisa and Patrick. Those two could never have a peaceful moment whenever they were around each other.

“At least I don’t fail any classes,” Patrick shot back.

“So do I, douchebag.”

“Oh my God, you guys, stop. Can we eat now?”

“Alright, alright,” Lisa said, and finally we started eating.

After a while, Lisa looked up. “Anyway, isn’t your uncle coming back to pick us up?”

“I honestly don’t know. His phone isn’t going through.”

“I can drive you guys.” Patrick offered

“What?” Lisa’s eyes widened. “With what car?” she asked.

“My mom lets me drive hers, goofy head. I mean, I’m already twenty. She wants me to get out, drive around town… maybe meet a girl.” He paused, glancing at me. “But I’m not really into that stuff.”

I immediately looked away, pretending to be interested in anything else.

“Then what are you into?” Lisa teased, leaning forward with a mischievous smile.

“Can we stop talking about me for a second?” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll go get the keys.”

He stood up and left before either of us could say anything else.

“Oh my God, did you see that?” Lisa turned to me, grabbing my arm.

“I told you—he’s into one of us. And I think it’s you.”

“Stop it, Lisa. You’re starting to sound cocky again.”

“Well, speaking as your future romantic advisor, I don’t mind,” she said with a grin.

I shook my head, and we both burst out laughing.