Page 111 of Raspados & Regret

A few seconds pass.

Fabián

My tía just asked why I keep looking at my phone.

Elías

Tell her you’re texting the man you railed in his childhood bedroom.

Fabián

That’s it.

I’m blocking you.

Elías

No you’re not.

Fabián

No… I’m not.

I grin at the phone, and then his next message comes in.

Fabián

I don’t regret it.

Everything in my body goes still. The room goes quiet around me even though the fan keeps clicking. I stare at the message until the words blur slightly.

I don’t regret it.

I swallow.

Elías

Good.

That word seems too small and casual for this situation.

Wrong, almost.

I type again.

Elías

I don’t either.

His reply doesn’t come right away, and I imagine him sitting in church beside his tía, phone flipped over in his lap, jaw tight, probably wearing some nice button-up because even he must fear God a little. Sunlight through stained glass and the heavy scent of incense in the air. His tía whispering for him to pay attention. Fabián staring at my name in his phone like it is both a sin and a map.

My phone buzzes.

Fabián

I really thought I would.

I roll onto my side and hold the phone closer. A part of me wants to be offended by the statement, but I don’t think he means it in a mean way… like he’s discovering something about himself..