A Kiss Is... Book 1: A Kiss Is Just A Kiss
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Selena Ellis
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Swanson University
JULIO
“Julio, ¡date prisa! ¡Vas a llegar tarde! (Julio, hurry up! You’re going to be late!)” my mom called from downstairs.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom for what felt like an eternity. It was my first day of college, and what better, smarter way to start than going right after high school?
It had been my decision to move on to college as soon as I could, but I didn’t realize I’d be doing it alone for the first couple of months. All my closest friends decided to wait so they could spend more time with their families. And I don’t blame them.
“Julio,” my mom called again. “Let’s go.”
“¡Está bien, mamá, ya voy! (Okay, Mom, I’m coming!)”
Okay, I lied. It wasn’t my decision to make the quick move to college right after high school. It was my mom’s. As you can probably tell by now, she doesn’t want me around. Ever since my first day of senior year, she told me…
SENIOR YEAR
My mom sat in the driver’s seat while we rode to school. I don’t know why she did it, because I already had my driver’s license, but she usually had something to say.
“I’m not kidding, Julio,” she said, making me look at her. “When you walk across that stage, you better be ready for college.”
“I know, Mom,” I sighed.
“Because your papá and I aren’t going to baby you anymore.” She turned into the school parking lot. “You’re an adult now.”
“So why do you keep driving me to school?”
“I can’t take my son to school now?” she asked, looking at me.
“I’m an adult now, mamá,” I mimicked.
“Watch your tone,” she said, then finally pulled into a parking spot.
I took off my seatbelt and reached into the back seat for my backpack. I pulled it forward onto my lap, then opened the passenger door.
“Lio,” my mom said in a soft tone.
I turned to look at her. “Yes, mamá,” I said, not wanting to hear what she had to say.
“Te amo. (I love you).”
“Yo también te amo. (I love you too).”
I stared into her eyes and already knew she wanted a kiss on the cheek, and, well, me being me, I can’t lie—I really do love my mom. So, I leaned in and kissed her cheek before getting out of the car.
PRESENT DAY
I rushed downstairs after realizing I wasn’t getting out of my first day of college and found my mom standing impatiently by the door.
“Finalmente (Finally),” she hissed, then swung the door open. “Do you have everything?”
“Not Gloria and Miguel,” I joked.
“Not funny, Lio.”
I chuckled as I followed her out and closed the door behind me. She tossed me the keys to my black F-150 and got in on the passenger side once I unlocked the truck.
Gloria and Miguel are my closest friends. We’ve known each other since the second grade. Well, to be exact, Miguel and I have known each other since we could walk.
We met Gloria in the second grade. Miguel and my mom are friends, which forced us to be friends, but we got along really well. Now you’re probably wondering, “So wouldn’t Miguel have to go to college right after high school with you?” And I’m sorry to tell you, but no.
His mom loves him too much and can’t stand to live without him. Gloria is an only child, so no brainer there; her parents want to spend every second with her before she has to leave. And me—I’m the youngest of six. Do I really need to say more?
“Take a left,” my mom said, not looking up from the GPS on her phone.
“I know, Mom, I heard it,” I said, turning left.
“You missed the last two turns,” she said.
I sighed, not having the strength to argue with her.
“Turn right,” my mom said over the GPS.
“¡Mamá!” I snapped.
“Cuida tu tono, Lio (Watch your tone, Lio),” she snapped back.
I took the right turn while the GPS said, “Your destination is on the right.” And there it was.
Swanson University.
I pulled into a parking spot closest to the university and turned off the car.
“All right,” my mom said with excitement, unbuckling her seatbelt. She looked at me, and our eyes met. “Let’s get you moved in.”
She looked away and got out of the car. Once she closed the door, I murmured under my breath, “Can’t wait.”
***
“G two-thirty,” my mom said for the sixth time as we walked down the dorm hallway. “G two-thirty. G two-thirty.”
“Here it is,” I said, walking quickly up to the door.
“Oh. Sweet.”
She handed me my room key. I pushed it into the keyhole, unlocked the door, and opened it. The room was clean. It was already furnished, which was what I wanted.
A decent coffee table sat in the middle of the living room side of the living room/kitchen area, with a couch pressed against the wall on one side of the table and a TV stand with what looked like a fifty-five-inch flat-screen on the other.
“Al menos está limpio (At least it’s clean),” I heard my mom say to herself.
She followed behind me as we walked farther in. There was a fridge in the kitchen tucked between a cabinet big enough to hide a body and the wall by the entrance door.
I moved into the kitchen, opening and closing every drawer and cabinet to see what was there. I found forks, spoons, and butter knives in the drawers, and plates, bowls, and cups in the cabinets.
I turned toward the two bedroom doors just as one of them opened. I went speechless as a well-tanned, well-built boy walked out of his room.
He wore only a towel around his waist, and his hair was drenched, which obviously meant he’d just taken a shower. He was looking down at his phone but quickly looked up when my mom cleared her throat.
“My apologies,” the guy said with a smirk. “If I would’ve known you were coming today, I would’ve been more presentable.”
“Eres bastante presentable para mí (You’re pretty presentable to me),” I heard my mom say behind me.
“Mom,” I snapped, looking back at her.
“Gracias, señora (Thank you, miss),” the man said, making me look at him again. “Y puedo decir que usted y su hijo están igual de presentables. (And might I say that you and your son are just as presentable.)”
“You know Spanish?” I asked, confused.
He chuckled. “Surprised?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Everyone is,” he said, nonchalant.
I watched him head to the living room and sit on the couch, his focus moving back to his phone.
“Lio,” my mom said, and I faced her. She tilted her head toward the door, and I followed her after dropping my things on the floor.
I closed the door and leaned against the wall by my room, waiting for her to speak. “I know you don’t think so, but I really am going to miss you,” she said, her tone soft.
“I know, mamá,” I said with a shrug. “You just want what’s best for me, and that’s college. I couldn’t agree more.”
I couldn’t help noticing the tears filling her eyes, and it hit me that she really was going to miss me.
“Mamá, no llores (Mom, don’t cry),” I said, stepping closer and pulling her into a hug.
“Lo siento. Lo siento (I’m sorry. I’m sorry),” she sobbed into my sweatshirt.
I fought back my own tears as I held her. When María, my oldest sister, went off to college, my mom didn’t cry.
Then Javier, my second-oldest brother, left for Texas with his girlfriend, the twins, Owen and Diego, went into the military, and Taylor, my favorite sister, headed to a whole different college in California. I guess, in a way, she cried now because I’m the youngest.
“You will always be my baby boy, Lio,” she said when we stopped hugging and she stopped crying.
“I know, Mom,” I said with a smile.
She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, tossing up her arms and putting on a smile. “Okay,” she said through a big grin. “Okay. I’ll get out of your hair.”
I watched her head down the hallway, then stopped her in her tracks when I called out, “Mamá!” I waited for her to turn and face me.
I smiled as tears built in my eyes. My chest hurt from holding them back, but I finally let them slip down my face.
“Yo—(I—)” I paused, trying not to let my tears get the best of me. “Te amo. (I love you.)”
She blew me a kiss. “Yo también te amo. (I love you too.)”
Through my tear-blurred vision, I watched her walk down the hallway, wiping her own tears away. When she turned the corner out of sight, I let the rest of my tears stream out.
