Get Out If You Can

Diego | Five Months Later

The only thing I've been looking forward to has been spring break, and now, it's finally here.

Parking in Cambridge is a nightmare; you'd do well to not bring your car along. Abuelo and Abuelita live there, so for me, there's no problem, really.

Harvard's been amazing. Though it's hard, I like the challenge. It's really close to MIT, so I've been told I can cross-register for courses in the fall, or something like that. I'm not sure if I will, though. It's enough hard work here itself.

As I drive through the prim streets of Callenfield for the first time in a long time, I realize how much I've missed the place – more specifically, the people in it. Reporters still hunt us down, still grill for any tidbits of information they can get – but they aren't having much luck. People still like to discuss the case, and the police still aren't going any further with it, but it's much milder than it was when it all happened. I'm glad.

I slide the sleek, black Carrera in my parents' parking lot. It's the same one I drove to Calleja Manor, five months – wow, it's been a while! – earlier. It did get pretty busted in the fire, but not so much a problem that the Masons' garage couldn't fix. Hunter and his dad are basically magic.

"Diego's here!" The second my soles hit the ground, I feel Mom's warmth around me. I hug her back. It's crazy to think that five months ago, if I made one wrong move, I'd never see her again. Since then, I've been spending a large chunk of my time with my family – and I like it. Very much.

"Di!"

"Hi, Mom, Dad," I say, disentangling myself from Mom's death grip. "How are you?"

"Great," Dad says, patting my shoulder. "How're your grandparents? How's Harvard going?"

"Awesome," I say, beaming. "Mom, I can do that, thanks." I take my coat from her hands. "I almost forgot what spring was like here," I say, laughing. "It's freezing. Let's go inside."

As I walk to the doors of my house, taking in the bright green grass and the thriving garden, something blooms inside me – something that feels like home.

***

I'm back at Empa Mundo. And it's just as beautiful – if not more – than I remembered it as.

Augusta doesn't notice me when I enter; she's way too busy talking animatedly to two kids not more than eight years old, at her counter. They're speaking Spanish, and they're telling her about the new puppy they got. Augusta's eyes are wide and bright, and she's nodding and listening enthusiastically to their tale. This is exactly what I love about her. She's one of the rare few who will listen to everything you have to say, and feel your joys and your sorrows almost as much as you feel them.

I quietly move to a corner table, taking in the colorful flags, lanterns and trinkets that adorn the walls. The best part here for me is the variety of chairs. Mom's come to like them too, in fact! At one table, you'll find a cozy armchair, while at the other you'll find something different. I breathe in the smell of empanadas and asado, fresh from the parrilla. My hunger, which was nonexistent when I entered, suddenly multiplies.

"Diego! You're back!" It's not Augusta who calls out to me.

"Guys!"

I watch as Matt walks in, his hand in Emilie's; followed by Alison, and close behind her, Hunter.

"Heard you came back," Alison says, sitting in an armchair opposite to me. "Your mom told us you would be coming home today."

"She did?" I squint. Well, that's funny. She never told me she's been in touch with these four, but then again, I'm not complaining. "Well, that's nice of her, then. How are you? How are they?" I point to Emilie and Matt. Matt waves hi, then continues talking to Emilie.