Grapes Upside Down

43. Brazo de Reina

~Madisen~

I re-read Ignacio's text about three-dozen times the next day. The words that blare in my brain just as often, however, are Josiah's: Yesenia keeps calling me. What are you doing?

Noah promised to be my Superman--that I could call on him. What was I thinking, asking him to snuggle when I know he's in love with me? His heart has been put through the blender daily as he watches me fall for someone else. I'm so unbelievably selfish!

Even thinking that Noah still loves me... I'm sure he's over me by now. He has seen my true colors, my emotional fragility.

Before leaving for class, I rip out my meticulous notes for today's Greek Mythology test, tiptoe into Noah's room while he's showering and lay them over his book bag.

As the micro jiggles and jostles me around on the way to the university, I try and fail to imagine Noah ever hurting me like this. Blowing up at everyone around him. Leaving me in a quivering heap of sobs every few days.

But we were never a couple; we never had the chance to get close enough to fight.

Isn't conflict part of every relationship? Have my moms ever erupted like this towards each other? I should call Mama Cami, licensed therapist, who knows me better than anyone.

Instead, I text Clara:

How do you know if fights in a relationship are normal or not?

Clara pulls me aside when I arrive to class.

"What kind of fights are you having, this soon in a relationship?"

Her question jars me. Are we not supposed to have conflicts?

"Not fights," I correct in haste. "They are more like misunderstandings. He has a hot temper, and I'm overly sensitive."

"You guys have been together for less than two months. I wouldn't think you'd be having any major issues at this point. What kinds of things do you argue about?"

"They aren't major issues," I reply hurriedly, defensive. "We always resolve it immediately. It's always just a case of one of us overreacting. Remember, I've never really been in a serious relationship."

Clara studies me up and down, scrutinizing my face, and I feel naked. I regret bringing it up. She doesn't know our specific situation and has only met Ignacio once. We have been together literally every day since meeting, so our six weeks are equivalent to most people's six months of dating. Adding in the cultural differences, along with the gap in age and life experiences, we have more hurdles to surmount than the average couple.

As the lecture begins, I pull out my phone to read Ignacio's messages one more time. He texted me an hour after our fight. Basically apologizing, being transparent about himself and his personality, leaving the ball in my court. Can I accept him as he is?

These weeks have brought the most intense rushes of joy in my entire life. Tempered by moments of sharp pain and grief.

My screen flashes with a new text:

Caperucita Roja, are you still upset with me? He follows up with a teary-eyed emoji that flicks up little flames of warmth in my heart.

Te quiero con todo mi corazon, he adds.

That night we open up more of ourselves to one another. He lets me in about his mother's devastating breast cancer diagnosis in his second year of middle school, which took her life less than three years later. The way his father fell into drinking and subsequently disappeared emotionally from his children's lives. How his older sister--his rock--took off to live with an abusive boyfriend rather than stay to protect him from their father's utter collapse. The fact that he now doesn't speak with his sister.