“Kim! How was your flight?”

My laptop streams a video of the wall of my parents’ living room. My mom answered my Skype call without turning around the camera to front-facing. The other side of the room back home is nicely decorated and all, but I’d rather see her.

“Mom, do you know how to turn the camera around?”

“Like this?” She physically turns around her phone so it moves past my academic awards. Past posed family photos. Past the ribbon-cutting for her business. And now it’s showing her face, showcased against those framed family photographs of my accomplishments on the wall behind her. Her familiar, normal face. She grimaces and furrows her brows, rubbing her chin with her free hand. “Now I can’t see you.”

Great googly-moogly. I clench my jaw and pinch my lips together.

“There’s a button,” I force between my teeth. Be patient, Kim. “It has a little swirly arrow to turn around the camera so we can see each other at the same time on the same screen—”

The world on my screen goes topsy-turvy, whirling around to the ceiling and the floor and then the screen goes black.

Great. She hung up on me.

I’ll take Obligatory Check-in with Extra Techno-aggravation for 300, Alex.

Immediately, I touch the button and call her back. She answers, hello living room wall again, clears her throat, and audibly swallows. “I’m sorry, honey, I can see you, but—”

I shake my head. “Just let it be. Maybe Shane can come over and show you how to Skype.” My face in the little rectangle in the screen is now more tired and irritable than it was five minutes ago.

“I’ll talk to his mom,” she says. “How are you? How’s Spain?”

“I absolutely love it here. It’s beautiful and different. The colors of the landscape are all brick red and silver green. The people are lovely. This house is amazing!”

“That’s wonderful! Are you settled in your new place?”

Am I?

My head swivels around and takes in the bare-bones room. While I say, “Yeah,” automatically, I think about it.

For the first time ever, I’m living away from home. I can’t see what’s going to happen the next few months. My life isn’t laid out before me like a map of Nebraska with no hills, twists, or scary bits. I’m not getting Eeyore vibes because what I want to do doesn’t fit into someone’s plans.

And holy shit, I love Spain!

I love it so much I’m starting to swear in my head, because I don’t know how to explain it otherwise. This land is so beautiful. This house so soaked in atmosphere. The people so elegant.

And my God, Tavo.

I’ve been given delicate wings and allowed to fly. I’m a dragonfly skimming the surface of the water, darting down to touch it and then continue on until I find where I want to land.

So, no Mom, I’m not settled. I’m the farthest thing from settled.

But do I tell my parents I’m happy without them? That I’ve figured out in one airplane trip that I like making my own decisions?

No. I can’t say that.

Not knowing my thoughts, my mom continues on. “I’m so glad. The flight was okay?”

I take a deep breath and hold it, trying not to let the tiredness rob me of the reality of Spain. “I loved it. I was so anxious the whole time, just watching the little dot of where we were over the map. The food was nothing to write home about, though.”

Unlike the beautiful and exciting man who met me at the airport.

But is he something to write home about? Or should I keep him to myself?

Myself, clearly. I’m not sure my panty-wetting thoughts are fit for consumption, especially not by my family. Just thinking about Tavo makes my insides gurgle—or maybe that’s from the airplane food.

How long until dinner?

“Oh, we should have packed you better food for the plane. Well, I suppose one meal like that won’t hurt. Just be sure to walk it off tomorrow.”

“Actually, I’m really looking forward to all the Spanish food.” I don’t really know what it is, other than not Mexican. The guidebook said it’s characterized by garlic and fish.

“I hear it’s greasy. Lots of olive oil. Don’t go overboard.”

God. I have no response.

Thankfully, she keeps going, “And no problems finding the de la Guerra child?”

Calling Tavo a “child” makes me let out a burst of air in an involuntary chuckle. He may be a son in the family, but he’s all man. The way he immediately took charge, carrying my bags? His lick-worthy forearms? His perfectly imperfect hair? All sexy as heck.

Sexy as hell.

“Yeah, he found me right away. No problem.”

My dirty thoughts about him are the problem.

My completely off-limits, no-good, not-allowed, veto, reject, don’t-go-there thoughts. The ones that hoist a red caution flag.

No more thinking about Tavo. No more drooling. I have a boyfriend, and I agreed to wear his ring. I finger it, absentmindedly. This is just part of the adventure I wanted. I’m coloring outside the lines for a while, I’ll come back home, and everything will be just fine.

My dad sits down in front of the camera, and I wave at him. “Hi, Dad.”

“This technology is amazing,” Mom says. “When Dad and I traveled after we got married, we never called home. How much does this cost?”

“It’s free.”

“That’s incredible.”

I’m halfway across the world, but it feels like I’m even farther. Have I changed this much in a day? I yawn. “I’m going to call Shane and then unpack. They have dinner really late here. At ten.”

“That’s strange,” my mom says. “I don’t think that’s healthy. Do they eat a lot of carbs?”

I feel the need to defend my new country. “Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“Yes, but your metabolism—”

Darn my metabolism. “What are you doing today?”

“We’ve found just the place for the wedding.” I get that stomach cramp again. “I know it’s early, but I think you’ll love it. Don’t you remember playing at the creek when you were a little kid?”

“Barely—”

“I suppose you were tiny. Well, the reception hall’s got a great view of the river, and there’s a lot of photo opportunities. It will be glorious. We need to put down a deposit immediately if we want to reserve it.”

“Mom, can you hold off until I get back from Spain? I know you’re excited, but just … I didn’t say yes yet.”

Silence.

My stomach clenches more, and a sour taste invades my mouth. I hold my breath until finally she says, “Okay, pumpkin. We can wait.”

“Save that deposit for grad school, okay? Like you promised.”

She doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches. I wait for my gut to unclench. It doesn’t.

My dad starts talking. “Now, I know you’re going to feel homesick.” I don’t. “Just know your feelings are normal. If you need to call us, call. If you need to cry, cry. Allow yourself your feelings—”

“And don’t eat them,” adds my mom.

Homesickness is the last thing on my mind. After talking more about what it looks like here, who I’m living with, and the plans for starting school next week, we eventually hang up, and I send a Skype message to Shane.

Hey, I type out. I’m here.

His response is immediate: At the gym. One sec.

A Skype call comes through on the laptop, and I see him, pristine as always, under the bright lights of the gym. He’s always surrounded by muscle. The sweat glistens on his brow.

“How are you?” he asks.

I pull at my lip. “I’m good, I think. Actually, I’m tired. I don’t know.” In this unfamiliar room, the dark, hard furniture and heavy red velvet bedspread are strangely stiff and formal.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

I can’t answer him directly because it’d mean I’d bring up Tavo, so I settle on saying, “It’s too new.”

“Okay.” He seems to be thinking, but not saying, Well, you wanted to go—

I stare at him. He stares at me. My best friend. My person. The one I tell everything to. The one who I’ve talked with all my life—but mostly face to face. I’m struggling with what to say because he doesn’t want me here. There’s an ocean between us. And the only earth-shattering thing I have to say is that I’ve been deliriously turned on all day—and not because of him. Although that’s not anything new. I’m used to taking care of myself. Still, my throat thickens with guilt.

“It feels really strange to be so far away from you and everyone. I’ve discovered this whole world of people who have never heard of me or my family or you. It’s like wow, there’s millions of people in this world who I didn’t know exist and they don’t know I exist.”

He smiles. “You’re so weird.”

“I know. It makes me feel both significant and insignificant. If I’ve managed to go through my entire life without them knowing who I am, have I lived? Have they?” I pause. “God, I’m being deep.”

“Yep. But I like that about you—”

The screen wobbles, and now it’s Randy’s face. “Yoko! Parlez vous Spanglish?”

“Hey, Randy. Did Shane finally get you to go to the gym?”

“He convinced me to sculpt these gorgeous abs”—Randy pans the camera down to his Santa belly—“into the washboard of your dreams.”

“I don’t dream about washboards.”

He shakes his finger at the screen. “Ah, but see? Now you will.”

Shane’s voice cuts in. “Give me that!” Taking the phone and positioning it back on his face, he rolls his eyes and chuckles, pushing Randy away. Shane yelps as Randy slaps his butt.

“So you two have been busy,” I say, laughing.

“Yeah.”

Shane and I talk about his classes that are starting, his parents, and the changes to his workout. He says he’ll call tomorrow, and we hang up. While he makes me feel better that life’s going on without me, now that I’ve separated from him—and been jolted by a strong reaction to Tavo—I’m doubting what I’ve always believed. The sharp contrast makes me reevaluate, and I’m not feeling anything more than friendship toward him.

My heart sinks.

In fact, it seems like he has more fun without me. That’s good, right? That he’s not pining for me? Then what do I do with this ring?

Gustavo’s sister Mari Carmen knocks on the door. She comes in and sits on the bed, speaking English with a thick accent. “I was supposed to be the one to pick you up at the airport. I’m sorry I missed it. Jorge and I had an appointment with the priest.”

“When are you getting married?”

“In spring.” The softness in her eyes tells me she’s dreaming of her husband-to-be.

“That’s exciting! Do you need any help?” No sooner are the words out of my mouth than I’m scolding myself. I don’t need any projects other than learning Spanish.

“No, we’ve got it covered. There’s a civil ceremony and a religious ceremony, and then we’ll have a dinner here. We just need to make it through counseling with the priest.”

“How’s that going?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s embarrassing, but necessary. Anyway, while you’re here, is there anything in particular you want to do? Anything I can make sure to show you?”

“I just really want to learn how to cook Spanish food.”

“Por supuesto. Mi abuela, madre, Tía Valeria, and I can do that. We will show you our favorite dishes. Anything else?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Yes, then we will do anything and everything together.” She stands up as if to leave. “It’s great that you’re here. Tavo’s not been himself lately. Maybe you can be a friend.”

“I’d like that, I think.” Even though it might be dangerous to get to know him better. Dangerous for my body, that is.

“Bien. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you at dinner.”

I watch her leave. She’s so secure in her love for her husband-to-be. I’m not.

With a sigh, I start pacing in my room, my mind going everywhere with lack of sleep and all the new people, places, and things I’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours, and the new, perilous ideas I’ve had. I knew Spain had a hint of risk, but I had no idea it would be precarious to my heart in such short order. I thought I’d change, I hoped I’d experience something different, but this clarity is disconcerting. It’s like being forced to scrub clean with a loofah, making my skin raw. It hurts to cut through the layers and find out what’s underneath.

And I’m not sure I’m ready to do that yet.

I pace, breathe, and sit down at my laptop. I still have one more call to make.

“Maggie?”

“Kim! How’s Spain?” she squeals. We’re using Skype like a phone call so it’s free, even though it’s my laptop. She doesn’t have fast enough internet for video.

“You wouldn’t believe what this place is like! Open blue skies and red hills and olives and vineyards and ruins.”

I can tell she’s smiling. “It sounds gorgeous.”

“It is.”

Especially one of its inhabitants.

“Wait! Kim! I got your email! Shane gave you a promise ring?”

“Yeah,” I say. My voice comes out huskier than normal.

“You don’t sound so excited.”

“Maggie, truth? I’m not. It all happened so fast, but I didn’t get a chance to think about it.”

“Hmm. What happened?”

I tell her.

“I don’t have any advice for you, girl. Think about it before you do anything. And if you have a wedding, invite me.”

“Sure.”

“Besides that, are you doing okay?”

With Maggie, I can answer the questions I can’t with my parents. But that doesn’t make it easier. Digging in the desk drawer, I pull out a pen, fumble with it, and start doodling on the same scrap of paper Tavo wrote the Wi-Fi code. I really like his handwriting. “I don’t understand anything. They talk so fast. I have no idea if what I think they’re saying is what they’re saying. I’m just not keeping up at all.”

“So you’re a fish out of water.”

“Totally.”

Maggie tsks. “Enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?”

“Yeah, girl. How many times in your life do you get to be in Spain?”

“I know, I know. But it’s hard sometimes. It’s so weird. They’re on this completely late schedule. It’s so late and lazy it feels decadent. Dinner at ten at night. Who eats dinner so late?”

“Apparently, the Spanish.”

“I mean, I don’t think it’s wrong. I thought it was bad for your digestion, but they’ve been doing this for a thousand years so it’s just the way.” I pause. “And here’s the thing,” I whisper. “It feels right. Like I’ve been here for a million years. It’s the first place I’ve felt like I belong.”

After talking to her a bit longer, I say goodbye, hang up, and finger the ring again. It’s pretty. Both sides around the diamond are carved into a delicate fleur-de-lis pattern. The hand that wore it before mine was Shane’s sweet, cookie-pushing grandmother. It fits me well and looks good on my hand, but it’s not my style.

Even though I try, I’m not excited about being promised—engaged—whatever. I immediately go to the ugly question: Why am I with Shane?

The answer comes quickly. He’s my best friend and has always been there for me. I can’t imagine life without his support. I don’t want a life with no Shane in it.

Those are pros. I pace and pace, my breath coming out faster.

Yes, a pro and con list. I’ll decide this logically.

Other pros? He helps me lift heavy stuff, gives me rides places—so does Tavo. Shane’s rides aren’t anything like Tavo’s. Focus on Shane, Kim. Shane plays video games with me, but I’m not all that stoked on video games, actually. He encourages me to do my best and helps me with homework. Our parents are friends. We have a lot of shared history.

The cons of marrying Shane? Easy. We’re way too young, and honestly, I took his ring because I didn’t want to embarrass him or hurt his feelings. I still don’t.

As my feet travel back and forth across the cool tile floor, try as I might, I can’t muster up the feelings that I’m frantically in love with him and must marry him now. I love him, but I’m not in love with him. I’m not even in lust with him.

No wonder I own a bullet.

I’m definitely in lust with Tavo. Good Lord, who wouldn’t be?

But I don’t want to lose Shane.

My legs wobble and my knees buckle.

The fact that we’re scared to be apart isn’t a reason to stay together.

I sit on the bed covered with clothes with the relief that comes from clarity. My body feels light. My blinders are peeled away. While breaking up with Shane means I’m stepping into the unknown, it’s necessary for both of us. I almost laugh because for cryin’ out loud, I just got here and already my brain’s working differently. How did I not see how things really were between me and Shane? How did I not realize we’d been living in the friend zone all our lives? Good friends. But friends.

I can’t see myself married to Shane for the rest of my life, and that truth sets me free. It took Shane forcing the issue and me getting out of town to see it. He surprised me at the last second, and now that I’ve had a moment to think about it, I need to give that ring back.

God, how will I tell him?

I will tell him.

Tears well up behind my eyes and my muscles sag. I’m so tired I’m punchy. The nap in the car barely took the edge off of my fatigue. Letting the detritus on my bed go, I shove myself below my clothing.

I want to sleep on this before I tell him. I’m not going to throw away a decades-long relationship because of one plane trip

No more Randy either? No. I couldn’t do that.

I’m scared that me saying no to him will mean we won’t hang like we always do. I’ll see how I feel in the morning, because maybe it’s just exhaustion talking. I don’t think so, but I want to be sure.

Halfheartedly I remember the need from my erotic dream, but I’m too tired to do anything about it. I’ll just rest my eyes for one minute and then finish unpacking.

The next thing I know, I wake up in the dark with a male voice at my door saying, “Kim. Venga para comer.”