Us by Emily Eck

patio table drinkin g Coca-Cola from a glass bottle. Talk about throwbacks.
    "Hey, man. Think you could help me out with something?" I took a seat next to him.
    "Like what?" The kid sat up straight, probably thinking I was going to send him on a death mission.
    "Elle is going a 'lil crazy. Is there someplace we could go to hang out? It's gotta be off the beaten path where no one will see us, but also someplace that we can kick back."
    "We could go to the Baile this weekend."
    "The what?"
    "It's like a club, sort of."
    "No clubs." That was about the worst possible place we could go. "Someplace no one will notice us. We're on the run, kid. We can't be seen."
    "There's this park we go to, Ojo de Agua ."
    "Ojo de what?" Swear I could use Isabel right now, and not for her skills in the bedroom, but for her damn translation services.
    " Never mind. It's a park where people kick it. We can go when it gets dark. It's chill. No one will notice. Well, they might notice you, the giant, and Elle, the white girl. If we get a spot in the back, it'll be all good. We can get some beers there and smoke if you want."
    "Smoke weed?" When did this kid suddenly become a weed smoker, and did Elle know?
    "Yeah. You guys smoke, right?" The kid acted like it was no big thing. Under different circumstances, I wouldn't give a fuck, but I knew Elle would.
    "Kid, you bring up weed around Elle and she just might kick your ass. We'd be down for a beer or two, but I can already hear the lecture you'll get if you try to get high around Elle."
    "She's gotten high, right?"
    "I'm done talking about this. Anymore and you gotta go talk to her. What time can we go tonight?" Shit, I wasn't about to tell the kid anything about Elle and weed. It was a long story, and one that wasn't mine to tell. I know she hadn't smoked for a while since she commented about it to me one night in bed. She said she liked the feeling of having a clear head, and that maybe when life was "normal" again she'd rethink her relationship with weed. I'd already told her she didn't have to slang bags to pay for school. That brought up a-whole-nother conversation about the money I slipped into her bank account. I told her that was a conversation for in the States, not Mexico.
    I think she'd be OK having a beer tonight, just a little something to take the edge off. Even if the kid was around. Shit, he'd been drinking around the house in front of Grandma and she didn't seem to care. Plus, every American knew about the lack of drinking age in Mexico, so there wasn't much Elle could say even if she wanted to.
    "I'll call my friend with a car and see if he can pick us up." He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and started a conversation in Spanish. I tuned it out, something I'd become quite adept at.
    "What's going on out here?" Elle sauntered out the back door in shorts and a tank top. She plopped herself on my lap, her long legs draped over mine. I ran my hand over her calf, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin in my hand. I looked up to darkened eyes filled with lust despite what we'd just done in the shower. Or maybe it was left over lust from the shower. Whatever. I kept running my hands over her legs. Her alabaster skin was so soft, I couldn't seem to pull myself away. I wanted to run my hands up those too short shorts of hers, feel her wetness on my fingers—
    "Dude, you keep doing that and our whole conversation is about to come out. Gross." Fernie was staring at us like a kid would stare at his parents making out. It made me feel old, yet still horny as fuck. He slipped his phone back in his pocket, mumbling something in Spanish, probably about old people and sex. If he wanted to hear gross, I'd bring up Abuelita. Fuck, now I was grossed out.
    I pulled my hands from Elle's leg and winked at her. She was too lost in her dirty thoughts to catch Fernie's comment about our prior topic of conversation. She was probably recreating scenes from her books in that smutty head of hers.
    "What did