Page 88 of Revv

Mom’s eyes cut straight to me.

“¿Revel va contigo?”

I glare at Bex. “He’s helping with the equipment.”

“Mmm.” Mom leans against the island, a knowing little smile pulling at her mouth. “Qué conveniente.”

“Not today,”

“I didn’t even say anything, mi amor.”

“Your face did.”

Bex nods around another bite. “Her face definitely did.”

“He’s a sweet boy.”

“You’ve met him twice.”

“Twice was enough. Muy educado. Very charming. And he looks at you like you hung the moon.”

“His entire existence is just to annoy me.”

“Maybe because you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

Bex nearly chokes on her empanada.

I point at both of them. “You two are getting way too comfortable.”

Mom only smiles wider. “Ay, Cecilia. You talk about that man far too much for someone who supposedly doesn’t like him.”

“I talk about him because he’s irritating.”

“Claro.”

“Don’t claro me.”

Bex wipes her fingers on a napkin, looking far too pleased. “She’s right, though.”

Mom laughs, comes around the island, and kisses Bex’s cheek before taking an empanada for herself. Since Bex and I have been friends so long, mom stopped treating her like a guest years ago. Bex has slept on our couch, eaten out of our fridge, and cried at our kitchen table.

She’s family.

Mom reaches into the grocery bag and pulls out a smaller foil container, setting it off to the side. “This one is for Mateo. I’m dropping it off before work because, apparently, there’s no food in his apartment.”

“I swear he says that every week.”

“Claro. Your brother suddenly forgets how to cook whenever he wants me to feed him.”

“He’s twenty-two.”

“And still my baby.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real heat in it. Mateo is my younger brother and has spent most of his life acting like I exist to answer questions he could easily Google himself. He has Mom’s eyes, his dad, Daniel’s dimples, and absolutely none of my ability to mind his own business.

Daniel came into our lives when I was little, then Mateo came along a few years later. Technically, he’s my half-brother, but nobody in our family uses the half part unless paperwork makes us. Daniel made sure of that. He married Mom, loved her the way she deserved, and never once made me feel like the extra kid from the man who left.

He never pushed me to call him dad or pretended my real father didn’t exist, even when I wished he didn’t. He just showed up. School concerts, parent-teacher nights, birthdays, bad report cards, worse breakups. Daniel was there through all of it, quiet and reliable, loving me without ever acting like it was some generous thing he deserved praise for.