Felix stuttered through his order, then off to the kitchen it flew, and he watched it. Focused on it. Tried to keep his thoughts off all the doubts that now swirled in his mind. Why couldn’t Arturo just appreciate him and him alone?
Dinner arrived, carried by los pájaros mágicos, and by the time it settled on the table, Arturo had made eyes at two other guys, one of them a forward on their school’s soccer team. Felix told himself to ignore it, told himself he was being too sensitive, told himself that this was just how guys acted.
Felix picked up his fork.
Looked up.
Arturo was still staring at the boy on the soccer team.
He winked.
Raquel’s voice rang through his head. “Felix, he should at least make you feel special. Like he actually wants to be with you.”
They ate mostly in silence. Arturo made a comment on how bougie the meal was. Felix tried to laugh. It came off more like he was choking.
“Come on, boo,” Arturo said. “Liven up. Can’t you relax just this once?”
Rage pulsed through him, out from his chest, up into his throat. The words spilled from his lips before he had a chance to stop them. “It’s hard to relax when you keep checking out other guys.”
Arturo dropped his fork, and it clanged loudly against the plate. “You just can’t let that go, can you?”
Felix scowled. “So you don’t deny that you keep doing it?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“But are you?” Felix shot back. “You might be sitting there, but your attention is elsewhere. I organized this whole thing for us. Why can’t you just be here in this moment?”
Arturo’s napkin plopped on the table. He stood, letting his chair scrape against the cement. “I don’t need this tonight,” he said. “You always stress me out.”
Felix stood up, too, but a force shoved him back down into his chair and kept him there. His words stuck in his throat when he saw Arturo, his hands raised, the spell leaving his lips. “No,” he said. “You stay. Don’t come after me.”
Arturo stormed off.
Felix sat in silence for half an hour.
He paid the entire bill by himself.
Tears pour down Felix’s face. Again. He opens his eyes. Mirella is crying, too, and her chest heaves.
“Wow.” That’s all she says as she wipes at her cheeks.
“I know,” he says, and he sucks air into his lungs, but the memory is fading, disappearing, unmooring from this place. He sees more pájaros, their shiny wings flapping as they deliver food, and he knows there is a reason this should hurt, but it’s…it’s…
Gone.
He turns to Mirella.
Her eyes go wide.
She grabs his arm. “Come this way,” she says, and she’s pulling him back toward the bus stop, toward the way they came, and he asks her what’s wrong, but she won’t talk, won’t answer, and he looks the other way, looks at La Estrella Mágica and its lights and sparkles, and there’s a man on the other side of the restaurant, standing next to—
No.
He looks down, and it’s those Jordans.
It can’t be.
Three weeks. In three weeks, Arturo has found another guy.
The thought pulls Felix to a stop. “How can he?” he says, and he doesn’t even know who the words are for. “How can he just move on so quickly?”
She tugs on his arm again. “No, Felix,” she says. “It’s not what you think.”
He whips around to her. “Why? What else could that possibly be?”
“My coworker.”
The other man. Felix squints. He’s doing some sort of magic, waving his hands, and Felix almost falls over from the shock. How can Arturo do this? How can he want to purge his thoughts of me? Wasn’t I the good one? Didn’t I try my hardest to make this work?
The last thought devastates him the most:
What does Arturo want to erase of me?
“Do it.”
Mirella doesn’t know what Felix means at first.
Arturo turns.
Sees Felix.
Confusion passes over his face.
And he starts walking toward them.
“Do it!” Felix yells, and he is grabbing at Mirella. “Whatever it is, whatever you said earlier!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The spell you mentioned! The one that’s stronger, that you use on bigger cases.”
She is shaking her head, her hands up, her palms out. “Absolutely not! You don’t need that!”
“I’ll pay you twice what I owe.”
Her mouth drops open.
Arturo is closer.
“No, it’s not right—”
“Please,” Felix begs. “I can’t face him. I can’t have him hurt me all over again.”
He watches her struggle. She glances at Arturo, who is now calling Felix’s name, and then her fingers are tracing a rune in front of her body, and her mouth isn’t moving, and Felix is trying to ignore Arturo, but his voice is so loud, so high-pitched, and he can hear the worry in it, and he’s yelling now—
“Felix! Felix! What are you doing—”
Pop.
Felix sways.
He looks to the man who had been with Arturo.
Sees the horror on his face.
Mirella gasps for air.
“I had to,” she blurts. “He wasn’t ready.”
The man reaches out, puts his hand on something.
“Arturo, I need you to calm down,” he says.
To nothing.
“Come this way,” the man says, and he turns away, and it looks like he is guiding…nothing.
Felix sees nothing.
Hears nothing.
Tears brim his eyelids as he faces Mirella. Her face is contorted; she is out of breath.
There’s an image in his head: brown, soft eyes, so dark you could—
No. The shadows swirl. Dissipate.
It’s gone.
Whatever the memory…it’s gone.
Felix tries on a smile.