Antonio Barrels Ahead with His Plan

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Firing up his Mac, he starts messaging crazily on all his platforms. He’s feeling a lot better now. That stupid Vanessa and her friends, who cares about them!

At some point he must have gone into the living room, because the next thing he knows, he is face down on the couch, aware of someone sniffling and crying next to him. His head feels like it’s full of cotton and he sees the empty bottle of Kahlua on the table next to him. Could he have just left it there?

“Menos mal,” his grandmother is saying, wiping away a tear. 

Antonio bolts up. “Abuela! Where’s Mom?”

“She had to work late, mijo. Big project she has to finish. She called me to come.” She stares at the bottle on the table as tears roll down her face.

Of all the people that Antonio does not like to see upset, his grandmother is #1 on the list. Sweet, kind abuela, who still thinks he is a Good Boy, her angelito. Something about her makes him want to protect her, so he is always on his best behavior with her. 

Now she can see that it was all an act. 

He looks around at the scene of carnage she must have walked into: books and papers pushed off the table, the TV blaring, his coat and shoes kicked off, framed photos knocked over. She gets up heavily and picks up a figurine of La Virgen that has fallen face down and cracked.

“I’m sorry,” Antonio mutters, but there is nothing more he can say. She cries quietly and says nothing. Antonio feels the tears spring to his eyes, and he doesn’t try to stop them from falling.