oh my god, they were neighbors

mateo's family

Conversely, a decent part of Mateo's life still lived back in Brawley. Ezra discovered this when he went to Mateo's place for dinner, which he promised to help make. Mateo was already at his counter, chopping sausage into small ground bits. It was clear he was a bit frenzied.

"Uh...Mateo?" Ezra asked, as he approached the kitchen. Mateo glanced back at him but quickly resumed his work. "Are you alright?"

"Me? Fine," Mateo replied, still chopping. With his elbow, he gestured to a cutting board with an onion on top. "Can you cut that? Small pieces, for soup."

    Ezra did offer to help, even if he hated the idea of chopping vegetables. "Alright. I can do that. Are you sure you're-?"

    "I am perfectly good."

    Another thing Ezra had learned since he became friends with Mateo—he was a God awful liar. But Ezra decided to give him the benefit of the doubt this time, to see if he'd tell the truth of his own volition. So he just shrugged and started chopping the onions, tearing up a bit but doing his honest and best work.

    Mateo added the cut sausage to a skillet on the stove. He grabbed a clove of garlic from the fridge and minced it quickly, then added it to the sausage.

    "We'll add the onions halfway through," Mateo said to Ezra, who was just finishing up. "Then some tomatoes and tomato paste, and some chicken stock. You'll see."

    Ezra nodded, wiping the last of the water from his slightly burned eyes. "I hate chopping onions."

    "So does everyone." Mateo used a wooden spoon to stir around the sausage. "Mamá never cries when she cuts them though. I don't know how she does it. Alana used to joke that she was a bruja. Um- witch?"

    "Your family sounds nice," Ezra said.

    Mateo hesitated. "...Yes, they are."

    Now Ezra was impatient. "Okay, Mateo. Something's wrong, I know it."

    "There's nothing wrong."

    "You're the worst liar I've ever met."

    Mateo stopped stirring the sausage and turned to look at Ezra. "Okay, my family, they're- well, they're coming to visit this weekend. They're really a lot, and they've never seen the apartment, and Alana always wants to go out and do things, so I'm- you know, nervous."

    "Oh." Ezra couldn't help but smile. "That's all?"

"It's stressful!" Mateo exclaimed, exasperated. He went back to the sausage. "I told you, I don't like big crowds. Alana loves concerts, parties. She'll want to see the pier, I'm sure. And Mamá is kind, but she can be a lot. Then Papá, he's...we have a weird relationship, you know?"

Ezra did. He brought the chopped onions over to the stove. "Hey, Mateo. Relax. If you need anything, let me know. I'm just a wall away."

Mateo smiled a little, taking the cutting board from Ezra and slipping the onion into the pan. "Thanks. I- I needed that. I think you'll get along well with them."

"Oh," Ezra replied. "You- I can meet them?"

The look Mateo gave him made him feel stupid. "Of course, Ezra. You're part of Santa Monica, aren't you?"

Ezra said nothing, but couldn't fight the feeling of joy that stirred up inside of him. It amazed him, really, that a man like Mateo could be so kind unknowingly. It had been a long time since anyone really made Ezra feel special. Hell, that was if anyone ever had, other than a few flings in college that tried to keep it going even when the runtime was well-over. Mateo was a distinct experience, the kind of person Ezra had never sought out before, but now that he had found, couldn't imagine losing out on.