Betrayal

As I said in my first post, I'm taking a creative writing course. The second assignment was to write a short story and this is the one I wrote. I don't think it's my best work, but I was pretty pleased with it. It is in no way biographical or anything, the characters are made up and not based off anyone I know in real life.
Happy reading!

I can’t believe this is happening. I stare into Reagan’s eyes and hope my face is calm. This is all my fault. If only I hadn’t asked her to take that class . . .

“I don’t even like music history, Claire. Why did I let you talk me into this?” Reagan is whining but I ignore her. I don’t tell her how much I hated the karate and foreign languages and chemistry she begged me to take with her; it’s not worth the fight.

“It’ll be an easy A.” I assure her as we head into the classroom. She stops to chat with a friend and I make my way to a table with two seats. It’s right under the window, which helps me stay awake.
Reagan will be talking until the professor arrives, so I look around. I don’t recognize most of the other students but there is one familiar face.
                                                                                                                              
Andres Rafael Rodriguez.

I think I love that boy.

“Hola.”  He smiles his nerdy smile and walks over. “I did not know you were taking this class, Claire.”

I always get tongue-tied when he talks to me. It’s a mix of his amazing accent and dark eyes and that awkward smile.

“Um, yeah. I thought it would be fun. And it’s required for my major.”

The professor walks in, preventing further talk, but I grin like an idiot for the rest of the class period.
I tell my mom that night. We know Andres and his family from when I was in grade school and Mom thinks he’s amazing. So she just smiles and nods and gives me my cookies.

The next day, Reagan and I have plans to go out for coffee after class. I get to the coffee shop before Reagan - as usual - and secure our favorite corner table. She’s ten minutes late and by the time she has her coffee, I’m half-done with my tea.

She takes her time getting her coffee, flirting with the barista, checking her reflection in the window, before finally heading over and dropping into her seat.

“Claire, I think I’m in love.” she begins dramatically. That’s how she always starts a talk about a guy. I just wait patiently. “He’s gorgeous. Dark hair, skinny, he sings . . . He’s just perfect.” Which means, of course, that he’s perfect for her.

“Well, who is it?”

“Andres.”

I freeze the smile on my face and try to breathe normally. She can’t have said that. It’s not possible.

“Andres Rodriguez?” I question. I think my voice sounds normal. I hope it does.

“Of course. Don’t you think he’s perfect?” I hear an edge to her voice that means I better agree with her. She can probably tell something is wrong so I nod quickly.

I do think he’s perfect.

“And we would look so good together.” she says dreamily. “Much better than, well . . .” she hesitates but I know she’s thinking of me. “He needs someone athletic to go with him.”

I don’t pay attention the rest of the night. I manage to get home safely and head straight to my room. Once there, I finally let myself think.

Reagan doesn’t know Andres. She doesn’t know how much he loves Star Wars and the original Star Trek. She doesn’t know about how his sister Maria was nearly killed in a car accident or how he loves him mom’s tamales.

Reagan sees his gorgeous eyes and nerdy smile. She loves his tall build and his thick hair. She just wants a boy to claim until the next cuter one comes along.

I cry myself to sleep that night.

The next morning I go to school without Reagan. I find my seat in Music History and stare out the window. She’ll come in and go talk to him and somehow they’ll be on a date tonight and then together tomorrow. Then, in a few weeks or months, she’ll find a new boyfriend, the captain of the football team, or the smart guy in Physics, and Andres will be left with a broken heart while Reagan just goes on with life.

“Buenas dias, Claire.” I look up and see Andres standing in front of me, smiling in that nerdy way.

My heart flutters and it takes me a minute to remember how to talk. “Uh, hi.” There’s an awkward silence that I rush to fill. “What did you think of the homework? It took me forever to find all those definitions and then I couldn’t find any composers and-”

He puts up a hand to cut me off and my face heats up. Grinning, he perches on the edge of my table.
“The dollar theater near my house is putting on a Star Wars marathon. I thought maybe you would like to come with me. We can get tamales afterwards.”

The door flies open and I look up as Reagan walks in. Her eyes light up when she sees Andres. On the way over, Reagan is stopped by another friend, giving me a minute to answer.

I can’t do this to Reagan, my best friend. I mean, she’d just told me last night that she really liked this guy and a date - ‘cause this is obviously a date - a date will betray that confidence. And then I think of what my mom has told me, about not letting Reagan run my life. And I remember Reagan’s smirk as she tells me how perfect she is for Andres.

But he’s here asking me on a date. Not Reagan. I like him too and not just for his dark eyes and accent.
I look over at Reagan, chatting with Macy, and catch a fragment.
“Claire . . . Not a chance. Look at her.” And Reagan laughs. That settles it. I’m going to start making my own decisions.

I turn to Andres.

“I’d love to go with you.”