Page 144 of Raspados & Regret

The comments have names for us.

Crop Top Papi and Raspado Boyfriend.

Chamoy & Chaos.

My family in all of this has been a blessing and a curse. Anita sent me a screenshot of Fabián saying yes with a row of crying emojis, three heart emojis, one eggplant emoji, and the words:

Anita

I KNEW THE TENSION WAS GONNA UNIONIZE.

My mother said nothing at first; she just watched me sit down at the breakfast table this morning with the expression of a woman who had given birth to a walking scandal with good hair.

Then she set a plate of chilaquiles in front of me and said, “So. Fabián.”

I choked on a chip, and she patted my back calmly. Like she had expected my respiratory system to betray me.

“He seems serious,” she said.

I looked at her through watering eyes. “About what?”

She stared, and I ate a forkful of chilaquiles like a coward.

Then she said, “He better be.”

That was it.

That was the whole conversation. Somehow, it felt like a blessing and a threat at the same time.

Very Catholic of her.

Ricky, on the other hand, texted me at noon.

Ricky

So Crop Top is your man now?

Elías

Don’t sound so jealous.

Ricky

Tell your boyfriend he still owes my bumper an apology.

Elías

He says your bumper was weak.

Ricky

I support gay rights but not that man’s hands.

Elías

You literally swung first.

Ricky