The Guatemalan fell in lust with the Mexican mariachi on the final Heritage Day. It's the stuff of romance novels.

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leaves

She bit her bottom lip, focusing on the pain that her teeth caused on her tender flesh instead of the inadequacy she felt. Tears welled in her dark brown eyes and she could feel the knot in her throat tighten. Why? She sighed—trying to normalize her awkward breathing. Her jaw unwillingly clenched and finally, she met his gaze. She knew then that she would never see him again. Never would she hear his awkward footsteps in the morning. Creaking floorboards and rolling chairs. Never. Never. Why? His hazel eyes were dry, smiling warmly down at her. They noticed the tears and concern quickly took them over. He leaned in close. “Qu’est qu’y a?” Again, she couldn’t say anything. For months she had harboured an innocent crush on the tall boy. For months she had learned his quirks and mannerisms; loving everyone of them. She knew him better than she had ever known another guy simply due to the fact that they had shared the same roof. “Nothing,” she managed to choke… blinking the tears into obli...
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