All I can do is shake my head. “Whatever. I’m not going to keep defending myself. I think this is stupid, I don’t know why you’re being so weird about all this, but I wish you’d stop. Stop giving him so much power over you. If he didn’t get such a rise out of you every time, he’d probably stop doing stupid little shit to piss you off.”
“It’d be nice if you were on my side about this,” he states.
“If your side and mine were the same, I would be, but it kind of feels like I’m being blamed for something, and I haven’t done anything wrong. If you’re accusing me of any sort of impropriety with Mateo, you’re completely mistaken. I’ve barely spoken to the man. Yes, I try to play nice, when he was friendly at dinner, I talked to him—I have this weird feeling that pissing him off for no reason isn’t the best idea.”
Shaking his head, Vince says, “Mateo isn’t friendly, Mia. He’s manipulative. I still don’t think you get it.”
“I’m really tired of being warned about him.”
“And I’m really tired of you not getting it,” Vince states.
“I must be impossibly naïve,” I return, fed up with this conversation. “Since he said he wouldn’t hurt me and you and I could be together, he hasn’t hurt me and we have been together. He gave my mother thousands of dollars and moved me into a mansion with my boyfriend. He’s been so atrocious to me that he bought me some things to help me fit in, and has conversations with me sometimes at the dinner table. Holy shit, what a monster.”
Making a face somewhere between anger and disgust, he says, “Whatever, I’m out of here.”
I sigh, turning toward him as he heads for the door. “Are you coming home tonight?”
“Why do you care?” he tosses back.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I say, but he’s already slamming the door shut behind him.
—
Since I’m on my own with no homework and no company, I make my way to the library. It’s still kind of crazy to me that there’s an actual library in this house, but there is, it’s huge, and there’s this comfy couch that really tops off the whole experience.
I can’t find anything to read though. You wouldn’t think more choices would be a bad thing, but there are too many and I can’t decide.
The door creaks open as I peruse a shelf, so I glance back to see who’s there.
Mateo ducks his head in, not seeing me. “Anyone in here?”
Clearing my throat, I take a step toward him. “Yeah, I am.”
“Oh, okay. I was just going to shut the light off, thought someone left it on.”
“Nope,” I say, offering a slight smile. “Just looking for something to read.”
He nods, stepping inside. “Vince go to bed already?”
I shake my head, glancing at the floor. “He left. Went with Joey or something.”
Gesturing to the area near me, he says, “Mind if I come in for a minute?”
“Not at all,” I say, stepping back to make room, which is absurd, since there’s nothing but room. I just feel a little awkward after everything with Vince, and I’ve never actually been alone with Mateo, but I think I’ve been warned against it 850 times.
Nodding toward the book in my hand as he approaches, he asks, “What are you reading?”
“Oh, nothing yet,” I say, glancing down at the old, illustrated copy of Pinocchio. “I was just looking. You have some really cool books in here.”
“Yeah, I think there’s a little bit of everything,” he agrees, glancing around at the walls of bookshelves.
“Well, not everything, but pretty much.”
“What’s missing?” he asks, frowning slightly.
I blush, feeling a bit stupid. “Uh, I was looking to see if you had any graphic novels. There aren’t any.”
Now amusement dances in his eyes. “Graphic novels? Like, comic books? Heroes and villains? Good winning out over evil?”
I shrug. “They’re fun. Maybe not great literature, but I got sort of hooked on them last summer. The air wasn’t working at our house and we didn’t have any money to do anything, so I’d take the kids to the library. They could pick out books to read, there was a little play area, and I just sort of stumbled upon the graphic novels. They’re quicker to read than a book, less wordy, so it was a nice way to pass a little time. Some of them are really interesting. You shouldn’t knock them until you try them,” I advise him.
“My apologies to the graphic novel community,” he says solemnly. “Which one’s your favorite?”
“Oh, I couldn’t choose,” I say, shaking my head.
“Well, why don’t you make me a list. I’ll order some for you—you know, to rectify this gross oversight in my library.”
I can’t help smiling. “I will. Then you can read them, and decide for yourself whether or not they’re stupid.”