Page 48 of Raspados & Regret

My whole body goes hot and smug until the pantry door opens again and I shove the phone against my chest. My mom stands there this time, and I almost die on the spot.

She frowns at me. “¿Qué haces?”

“Nothing, just… doing inventory.”

She looks at the shelf beside my head. “With your phone”

“Yes.”

“So you’re telling me you have been counting napkins for ten minutes?” She stares at me, and I know she sees right through me.

“They keep getting stuck together.”

Her eyes narrow, and I straighten. She still doesn’t look convinced. Mothers never do. They do not need evidence because they were born with search warrants.

“Come help with the syrups,” she says.

“I’m coming,” I mumble, and her eyebrows lift.

I hear it.

I hear exactly how that sounded.

I close my eyes, and my mom’s mouth twitches.

“No empieces,” I warn.

“I didn’t say anything.” She laughs and leaves me in the pantry with my dignity in a bag by the door. I look down at my phone, and there’s a new message waiting.

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

Just don’t wear the red ones.

My brows pull together—why the fuck not?

Lalo.Con.Limón

Why not?

Fabi.Son.Filtro

They’re annoying.

Lalo.Con.Limón

They’re shorts…

How are shorts annoying?

Fabi.Sin.Filtro

They make you more annoying.

I grin.

Lalo.Con.Limón

Mentiroso.