Chapter Text
After a million years of compounded time waiting for her to trudge up to the door, when his crush stepped onto the porch and turned a questioning eyebrow his way, the teen was saved from answering when his uncle reappeared in the doorway and ushered her in cheerily. “Hey there doll, I’m Steven Nunez, Braden’s tío. I’m simply delighted to meet you. Come in for a drink? It’s awful hot out.”
His words and manner put her internal wondering at ease, the hospitality not terribly foreign but the circumstances they came with having one logical guess as to what he was thinking. She smiled with an easy grace, a more polite rendition of her regular confident grin. “I’m Ariana Velasco, nice to meet you sir. Thanks for inviting me in.”
“Oh no trouble at all,” he gushed, walking and beckoning them to follow to the (blessedly air conditioned) little sunroom where the family did short social visits like this, and ate breakfast in the mornings. Braden sat in his regular seat at the round table after Ariana pulled it out politely, and she sat in Tío’s spot, not that she knew it. Tía’s chair was empty. Tío himself didn’t sit down in it, leaning in the doorway to talk for a moment. “It’s so convenient that he had someone to make sure he stayed safe on the walk back. So sad that he hasn’t any sisters or girl cousins in school.” The man swept away into the kitchen again to fetch whatever snacks and peach tea mix he'd pulled together, probably in the nice glasses, and didn’t see how Ariana’s relaxed smile had reactively tightened at the corners of her eyes and mouth.
A light silence settled over the pair in the sunroom as faint clicks sounded from the other room, glass dishes and their clink against metal, being set on a tray. “Very kind of your tío, inviting me in," she said lightly. Braden looked as stiff as a board and felt less creative than one, trying to think of anything clever to say. A beat passed before she added, "It looks like he's also on board with your tía, thinking you need a protector."
That didn't need a clever response. Nodding solemnly, the boy confirmed her observation and then reiterated it himself. How dangerous the streets were to boys by themselves, and how the only girls they could trust were family and the precious few worthy to be girlfriends. Braden got more cautious in his phrasing and eventually just slowed to a halt in the middle of a sentence, as the listening girl's face got harder and sadder bit by bit. "I… I'm sorry if I… offended you," he trailed lamely. The sentence ended in a whisper and he tucked his chin down, gaze locked to his lap and face burning. Now he’d done it. He'd ruined the conversation, he'd made it sound like he didn't trust her, or that she was one of the bad girls, or that girls were bad overall but they weren't that's just how girls acted, he was just a bad boy, stupid boy, and a litany of panicked thoughts that verged on pooling tears in his eyes.
"Oh, Nunez," she sighed tiredly. He bit his lip, here was the scolding. He deserved it. "Who told you girls are dangerous?" Ariana's hand slipped into his and held it on the table. He jerked his head up in surprise, arm frozen where it lay and not daring to move. "Do you think I'm bad?" His eyes were tense with guilt as her kind ones met them, almost violently shaking his head. She was beautiful and sweet, she was the world to him. "Do you think Jackie is bad, or Violet, or Mavis?" He shook his head for each listed girl. They were his friends, they saw him everyday at school and never treated him badly or even made him feel uncomfortable. "How many girls in your life make you think they're about to jump you?" The simple question and its simple answer had Braden mentally stuttering in protest for a moment.
"I think someone told you the world is scary, because they wanted to keep you safe and maybe even believed it themselves, and you listened to them because you loved them too. You internalized it and now it feels like common sense. Some of the world is scary and dangerous and people can be horrible bastards to others-" he flinched at the swearing, Tío might be listening "-but the majority are good people. You especially don't have to feel like prey; take some self defense courses or buy a weapon if you want extra reassurance. And you definitely don't need a girlfriend." She stroked her thumb over his knuckles as the words came so easily. She clearly believed them.
"And why do you think it would be your fault if someone hurt you?" she continued. This time Ariana waited for an answer.
The first one she got was him opening and closing his mouth like a fish and shrugging helplessly. The second one was more verbal. "Girls… they're just gonna act like that, that's how they are… it's nobody's fault, but it would be my fault for not keeping myself safe." The depressing answer was also one he clearly believed.
"People who hurt other people are at fault, boys or girls or anyone else. Everyone deserves to feel safe and nobody has rights to hurt people because 'that's how they are'." The jock let go of his hand to lean back in her chair, staring out the high windows to a place millions of miles away, thinking thoughts that shaped her brows fierce and resolute and mouth just as firmly set.
Silence started to settle in as Braden sat stunned, pondering her logic. "They might deserve to feel safe… but that's just how it is." The words tasted bitter and stale.
The corner of Ariana's mouth quirked up sarcastically. She had apparently said that same phrase in the past and didn't miss its flavour. "And you have no hope that it doesn't have to be like that? That people can be held accountable for their actions? That you can walk by yourself and feel safe because most people are good and those who aren't will be afraid of punishment or what you're packing? Take a second, Nunez, and hope. It feels better than fear."
Neither spoke as Ariana stared contemplatively into space and Braden reeled. Tío came back with a glass plate of sliced oranges and apples and peach tea in ice. The whole tray shivered musically when he placed it on the table and sat down. As he peppered Ariana with questions that were prying as possible within the bounds of politeness, and as he served them onto cups and little plates that matched, his nephew nibbled and sipped but mostly thought. About what it would be like to not need anyone. About the idea of feeling safe by himself. The unyielding and steady logic and its promise of hope stayed stewing in his head for the whole half hour, until the tea ran out and Ariana rose, excusing herself to go. He tuned back in as Tío stood to walk her to the door.
"Of course, Miss Velasco, wouldn't want'ta keep ya any longer. 'M sure your daddy's worried sick, what with you not comin' home from school." She waved a hand unconcernedly as Braden popped out of his own chair to see their guest out, following the pair.
“He doesn’t keep too tight of a leash on me Mr. Nunez. I just need to see to my chores.” They reached the front door, Tío opening it and waving her out with a beaming grin. Ariana stepped to the edge of the porch and turned around to reiterate, “Thanks again for having me sir, it was great.”
“My pleasure, Miss Velasco, my pleasure.” He disappeared into the house, chuckling and no doubt planning a glowing report to tell Tía all about. Braden was left just inside the door with Ariana looking at him.
“Thanks for coming in,” he said, a bit awkward. His nerves were drawn tight from the conversation and its aftermath that still lingered in his mind. Hopefully if this happened again they could avoid something of that level.
She was less formal in just his presence, posture and expression softer. “I really like talking to you, Braden. You’re one of the few that thinks I have thoughts worth hearing.” A crazy idea, someone telling Ariana she was wrong. “You’re fun, and smart, and…. Maybe swing by my place next time?” He nodded immediately and so fast that his teeth clicked. “Great. I’ll tell my dad, is tomorrow okay?” More nodding, slightly more controlled. She blessed him with the view of one more smile, indulgently looking over his face and actually reaching out a hand to pat him twice on his fluffy head, like he was a kitten. Suddenly his resting heart rate felt a lot like his active heart rate. “You’re so cute,” she murmured. And that just picked up a lot too.
Ariana slid her hand off his soft head and trudged into the yard, casting a “See you tomorrow, buddy,” over her shoulder. Into the street, past the other houses, beyond a corner and out of sight, Braden watched her go and then shut the front door. He sank down into a plush chair and blinked. And blinked again, mouth slightly open. He sat like this for a minute before lightly laying a hand atop his own head, and smiling so hard that tears pricked his eyes.