Borderline

Chapter 4 - Immadura

Borderline - Ch. 4

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               I stomped through the house like a maniac, tearing through every room hoping to find Miguel. My anger blazed through me like the sun through the atmosphere. Where was he?

               After AJ told me about the “idea” Miguel had, grocery shopping didn’t go so well. He kept wanting to go down every single aisle, and all I wanted to do was fly back to the farm to rip Miguel to pieces. Marry Julio? Was he kidding?

               I looked all throughout his room and the kitchen and living room, and even barged into the bathroom despite a closed door. But he wasn’t in any of the rooms I checked. Maybe he was outside helping the farmhands plant the crop.

               Most people don’t know this, but popcorn is grown just like any other corn. It comes on tall stalks, and takes a little over a hundred days to fully mature. But it has to be planted in the middle of May, or the harvest won’t be very good. That’s why Miguel had to come up here at this specific time.

               After the harvest, I had kind of been hoping that he would leave. Even if he stayed for the processing, which we also do on the farm, he wouldn’t be here for much longer than the summer. But, apparently, that wasn’t what he had in mind. Especially if he wanted to marry me off like some old time-y girl-degrading tradition.

               My fists clenched and I grit my teeth, feeling like steam was actually rising from my head. I slammed the screen door shut to our house and stalked off to the field to find Miguel out there.

               I guess I had the right idea, because I noticed him standing in the middle of several men telling a joke. Every single person there was laughing at him, and it drove me mad. He wasn’t funny. Miguel was a menace.

               “Miguel!” I yelled, my voice strained but quite loud and powerful. The group all turned to me, and I wanted to smack myself in the face because Julio was there, too. Well, I guess he could hear all about my complete lack of desire to marry him just as well as Miguel could.

               My brother’s face dropped and his eyes began to shine in the way they always did when I was around. It wasn’t the loving shine everyone hoped to see in the face of a loved one, but reminded me more of the eyes of a madman. Which, I told myself, fit quite perfectly.

               I was ninety-nine percent sure that Miguel wouldn’t want to talk about this in front of anyone, so the very next thing I did was scream over at him. “You want me to marry Julio, right?”

               In about four giant leaps, he was right in front of me, his hand clamped over my mouth. I bit him, and almost regretted it as the taste of salty sweat invading my taste buds. But he jumped back a little bit, so I guess it worked. “We’ll discuss this later,” he told me, his voice barely a whisper.

               “No, we’ll talk about it now,” I replied, loud enough that I knew everyone could hear me. Julio’s face was beat red, but I knew he wasn’t embarrassed. Julio never got embarrassed about anything. “I just want you to know that if you think I’m going to be his happy little perfect wife, you’re mad, and going to be sorely disappointed.”

               “You wanna talk about it now? Fine. Julio is good for you, Maria. He’s smart, and down to earth, and maduro.”

               “And I’m not mature? Hmm. Maybe that’s because I’m seventeen!”

               “So is he,” Miguel retorted, and I could see the men start to back away, uncomfortable. Both of our voices were reaching them now. The only one who didn’t move is Julio, and it was obvious that he was reading my body language like he always used to do.