CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ellie locks me in my room and makes me promise I won’t go see James on a whim. She thinks I need to be armed with a thoughtful speech, a sexy outfit, and at least half a Xanax before I attempt whatever it is I think I’ll be attempting. I think she’s being ridiculous, so I spend upwards of two hours trying to knot my bed sheets together to make an escape ladder. It doesn’t work. I grow weary, lie down on my floor, and crash hard for a solid 12 hours. Huh. Turns out, I was pretty exhausted. Something about travel, galas, and massive life decisions really conks you out.
The first thing I do when I wake up is FaceTime Diego and Nicolás. I’ve had time to consider my options, and now that I’m well rested, I still agree with the decision I came to in the midst of my mania. If I want James to take me seriously when I ask for a second chance, I have to tell him I’m moving back to the States.
FaceTime connects right away and Diego leans forward, scrunching his nose and studying me.
“What’s that on your face?” he asks in lieu of a greeting.
“Oh, nothing, just indentations from sleeping face down on the carpet. Anyway, I have news…about what Diego and I talked about the other night.”
Diego claps gleefully and turns to Nicolás. “I told you so!”
“I should have never taken that bet!” Nicolás replies with an eye roll.
“Well you did, and I won, so pay up.”
Nicolás turns back to the phone. “Wait, Brooke, are you staying for the guy?”
I nod.
“Sí! SEE!” Diego shouts triumphantly.
After Diego is done gloating, I try to turn the conversation back to a more professional topic: my resignation.
Nicolás laughs. “Wait, let me get this straight: you’re putting in your two weeks notice with one week of vacation left? What does that even mean? You’re going to fly back here for a week and then fly home?”
It makes sense to me. “I need to get my stuff and say goodbye to the girls.”
Diego shakes his head. “No, no. While we’d love to see you once more before you move back to the States for good, why don’t we just ship your stuff back to you?” He glances toward Nicolás, who’s nodding in agreement. “No sense in wasting a couple grand on flights if you don’t have to.”
I laugh at how naïve they’re being. “Olive wouldn’t mind so much, but Luciana will never forgive me if I don’t come back to say goodbye to her.”
Diego rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. Luce will understand if we frame it as a love story: your clock struck midnight and you had to rush home from the ball. Now all you need is to find your prince.”
I’m glad they seem to think that, because when they hand the phone over to her during the FaceTime call and I begin to explain the situation, she hangs up on me midsentence, and not by accident. I call again. She answers, and HANGS UP AGAIN.
Diego shoots me a quick text.
Diego: Okay, she’s taking it slightly harder than expected, but there is still no reason for you to come back to Spain just to get your stuff. Luciana will calm down. Also, when did she get too old for fairy tales?
Olive, bless her, doesn’t give a shit that I’m leaving. She sends me a thoughtful, quick text message thanking me for being her tutor and wishing me well in the future. By contrast, Luciana texts me 15 skull emojis paired with an adorably incorrect English idiom.
Luciana: Sorry, can’t talk—too busy pulling this fork out of my back!
I hate the fact that I’m hurting her, especially because I know what it feels like to be left at her age. It’s not like Luciana expected me to stay with her and her dads forever—we even joked about how terrible her next tutor would be compared to me—but this abrupt exit isn’t ideal. If I could explain my reasons to her, I know she’d understand. After all, she knew how I felt about James.
I try to call her several more times, but she’s obviously not ready to talk. Eventually, she blocks my number, and Diego tells me to give it time. She’ll cool down, he assures me, though I fear that’s not the case. Luciana is headstrong and stubborn. All I can do is hope that one day she’ll understand my decision to stay in Texas.