When I’m done, I head back into the living room, where Diego’s clearing away the table.
“Ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He moves forward and offers me his hand. I take it, but then I use it to pull him forward, forcing a hug on him.
“Did you really think you were gonna get away without a hug?” I ask.
He clears his throat gruffly. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“Kiss?”
“Get outta here, pendejo.”
Laughing, I give him a parting nod of thanks and head out of the house.
The night outside is silent. I’ll miss Mexico, I think. It’s hot as hell and that doesn’t go too well with my Irish complexion, but I’ve mostly gotten used to the heat and the dryness and the dirt and the—
Okay, well, maybe I don’t like Mexico all that much.
But I’ll miss these people. They have good souls. They fixed me from nothing, from literal death.
I owe them my life.
The bus station is a couple miles away. I shoulder my pack and start the trek, happy to be alone with my thoughts.
I get approximately three steps into the journey before a voice pierces the night.
“Oye, culin!”
Which means something along the lines of, Yo, butthead!
I turn around to see Carla sitting on the roof, her legs dangling over the edge.
“Who are you calling a butthead, butthead?” I demand. “And what are you doing on the roof? You could get hurt.”
“Oh, since when do you care about that?” she snaps.
She gives me a glare that’s meant to hide her tears and turns away pointedly, arms crossed in anger.
“This is hard for me, too, kiddo,” I say softly.
She sniffles. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be leaving.”
“I have to leave. There’s some unfinished business I need to see through.”
“You’re really going back to Ireland?”
“After a quick pit stop… yes.”
“It’s so far away.”
“I know, but I’ve been gone too long. I have a family there. I have friends.”
“A girlfriend?” she asks.
I smile. “Not exactly.”