The space under the bed is cool and shadowy. Antonio doesn't much like shadows, they always look too alive, too much like the monsters from stories Camilo likes telling him, but it's better than being outside right now. And anyway, he's much less scared of shadows than any other kid his age. He is brave. He is a Madrigal, after all.
"Monsters can't get you under the bed," Dolores told him once when she found him crying and looking for a place to huddle up. He thinks maybe there was some deeper meaning behind her words, but it was probably just because they were too big to fit there.
Either way, Antonio's hidden under the bed enough times to confirm that there's nothing bad there by now. The only creature he's seen there is a rat, and the rat just stared at him curiously before scurrying away.
Oh, and Mirabel. Mirabel joins him too sometimes. She's the one who found him the first time, and she's never given away his hiding place in the nursery since.
He's waiting for her to show up now, because he hasn't left from his spot all day and he's lonely and hungry and she's the only person he wants to see and she knows it.
Antonio's hands are shaking, and he curls up tighter, the wood of the bed grazing his head as he moves.
His gift ceremony is tomorrow.
He shouldn't be this scared. Dolores did this before him. Camilo did. Primas Isabela and Luisa did. All the born Madrigals got their gift, and he had nothing to be afraid of.
But Mirabel hadn't. She's never done anything bad, she's always been so kind and wonderful and his best friend, but she hadn't and what if he doesn't either?
He's not stupid. He's small and he doesn't understand everything, he knows that, but Antonio also knows the only reason Mirabel never got a room of her own, the reason she's always been in the nursery with him and become so close with him at all, is because she didn't get her gift. And if he doesn't - will Abuela hate him too?
And what if he does get a gift? What if it's not good enough, what if he's like Camilo who took years to figure out how to make his gift useful and never really got smiles and attention and a place in the family discussions until he did? Antonio feels like an outsider already sometimes, loved and cherished but not useful, not when everyone else has their work in common and is always talking about it. Or - or what if he gets a good gift and then Mirabel doesn't want to talk to him anymore? What if he never gets to see her again because he'll be busy and she'll be here alone and he's going to have to sleep by himself in a new room and -
The door of the nursery opens and Antonio stiffens, but then familiar footsteps are making their way across the floor and he uncurls the slightest bit.
There's a shifting weight on top of the bed that means the intruder is sitting down, and her voice drifts down.
"Mama made so many empanadas today. I just couldn't eat them all." A hand places a plate on the floor by the bed, and waves the food in question teasingly before putting it down too, "Oh, how I wish there was someone hungry enough to have them for me!"
Antonio giggles and pulls the plate toward him, laughing harder when Mirabel shrieks in fake terror.
"What was that?! Who's down there?"
"Me!" he rawrs as menacingly as possible.
"Oh no, fearsome Me! Please don't hurt me!"
Antonio can't really answer, he's laughing too hard, but he sticks a hand out and beckons for her to join him. Soon, she's crowded into the cramped space with him, her skirt twisty but soft around his legs and her smile warm.
"They're looking for you again."
He makes a face. He's being childish, yes, but he won't get a chance to after tomorrow so he might as well.
"Why do they need me now? I can stay here until tomorrow. With you!"
"I think Tía might get a little worried by then, you know."
"Dolores can tell her you're with me."
"But then who's going to give her a little Antonio hug?"
He pouts, but Mirabel is right. Hugs are his specialty.
The empanadas are delicious and soothing as always, and he winces as his legs burn before the pain fades away. His elbows hurt less, but he'd hit his knees again while crawling into his space. It's a kind of clumsiness he always has when he's hurrying.
Antonio remembers the time he'd cut his right leg on a splinter while wriggling in. It had been a long gash that had hurt much more than the usual skinned knees or knocked ankles, and he'd cried all through the time it took for Mirabel to coax him out and bring him to Tía Julieta for a fresh arepa before dinner.
They told Mama, Papa and Abuela that he'd hurt himself while playing, and Antonio was always accompanied by one of his siblings or cousins when he went out after that. Isabela was his second favourite, she didn't like the animals he played around with so she usually left him alone.
Mirabel was his favourite, of course. She came up with the lie, and sewed him longer pants when he decided he didn't like the scar from the wound.
Antonio wonders if there will be splinters under the bed in his new room.
Hopefully not. Either way, the bed will probably be big enough that Mirabel can fit more comfortably with him under it.
"I don't think you'll need to hide under the bed when you have your own room, Antonio. You'll have your whole room to yourself!" Mirabel nudges him playfully, but there's something sad in her voice.
Oh. Antonio didn't realize he spoke out loud.
"But you'll come there with me, right?" He asks, raising pleading eyes that always work. His cousin laughs and says of course she will, and it's better for now.
Tomorrow is scary, and maybe he'll get a great gift. Or maybe he won't. Either way, it will be an adventure, and he'll still have his family and his best friend with him.
