The Juevecitos were a tradition of sorts in Monterrey. People met with their childhood friends or middle school groups every other Thursday, had a drink, maybe sang some karaoke and just tried to keep those friendships alive even if they were past their prime. It was sweet and always a reminder that, even if people went their separate ways, they could always come back.

Originally, Angela would do Juevecitos at her house. Every Thursday without fail Alex would go to Angela’s basement, sit on her fluffy brown couch and just spend the night drinking with her. Sometimes the gatherings were large, others small, but most times it was just the two of them being silly. It wasn’t until halfway through high school that Eva and Carlos had become a permanent fixture as well, the four of them always together on the basement every Thursday come rain or come shine.

This is why it had been hard for Alex to stop having those Juevecitos as college dragged along.

Alex was a creature of habit, he lived for a nice and well established routine. He had more daily planners, notebooks and sticky notes than any human should ever be allowed to own, and calendars were one of his preferred gifts (for himself and, sadly, for others). Due to this, as everybody’s schedule grew more complex, his strategies to keep the Juevecitos alive grew wilder: from setting alarms on everyone’s phones, pestering their parents, doing their homework or leaving sticky notes all over their belongings; he wanted things to remain the same and he was not past being terribly annoying to his friends to keep them that way. Until Angela had enough.

She came up with the Saturday video calls, recommending the weekend to avoid conflicts with schoolwork, besides, it could be done even if someone was away, and it was quick.

Juevecitos had died for them, but at least they had a replacement.

It is understandable then that missing three weeks of these video calls had been terrible for Alex in particular. Since he and Eva had been busy with the Welcome Ceremony, Carlos was away in France, and Angela was going through a lot, their usual hangout had been displaced, driving poor Alex a little insane. It was just now, that all had calmed down a bit, that they had been able to reunite.

What Alex didn't expect was for this “catch up” call to quickly evolve into a new bit of frustration for him.

“Did you see the picture I sent you, Angela?” Eva says.

“Oh, I did,” she answers. “I can’t believe that gene pool!”

“He indeed does both Spain and Germany proud,” Eva says, holding back a laugh.

“So he is Spanish and German?” Angela says through the speakers. “Wow, the malinchismo jumped out!”

“Don’t call me that,” Alex whines.

“You know this one,” Eva says with glee, “his ancestors said ‘No!’ and he said, ‘Colonize my body, daddy’... and I honestly can’t blame him.”

“I hate both of you.”

“I like him! He reminds me of a golden retriever!” Carlos interjects, wearing one of those ridiculous face masks Alex would never admit to loving.

“Aw, that’s great Carlos! Alex can take both of you on walks and arrange playdates at the park. I’ll bring some treats for both when I get back,” Angela says with a laugh.

“You all do realize that the events have been as follows: I got THROWN off a stage and fell over him, Eva basically adopted him out of nowhere, and he walked me home. That HARDLY means anything. It’s been a week, there’s not much to read here you, dolts,” Alex grumbles.

“Oh, ‘dolts’ we’ve hit a nerve, lady and gent,” Angela teases with a smile, and even though Alex wants to remain angry, he is happy. It’d been too long since he’d spoken to Angela. “Look, Alejo considering how much contact you’ve had with men over the last year and half, walking home with him was basically you allowing him to examine your tonsils with his tongue.”

“Which is very sad,” Carlos says. “More so because I am sure he does want to examine your tonsils with his tongue. The way he stared at you, bud!”

“And... I know he bought you coffee,” Eva whispers through the mic. “He told me so!”

“Wha… how… I… EVA!”

“Oh, Alex! Coffee?! Before marriage, how DARE you?” Angela shouts dramatically.

“How do you keep doing this?!” Alex questions.

“I have him on three classes,” she answers. “So I will know every dirty little detail of this budding romance.”

"Can I be the ring bearer?" Carlos asks.

"Only if I am the best woman," Angela says.

“Can we STOP? He is just some hot exchange student. Nothing new! Also, wasn’t this call to check up on Angela?” Alex practically shouts. “Which reminds me, how ARE you Angela?”

Angela smiles softly through the screen and Alex is calm again. He misses her a lot, and he is still worried. After the incident last semester, he couldn't stop.

“I’m good, love,” she answers, her voice neutral. “I mean, it is New York! And it is my first time here on my own, so it feels amazing.”

That was rehearsed answer. Alex winced.

“How have classes felt?” Eva asks.

“They haven’t started! My parents wanted me to come early, get accustomed to the environment and all, and I have been taking some dance workshops while I can, it’s fun!”

Angela’s semester would start along the end of August, which was way later than all of them. She didn’t dare say it, but it was driving her crazy. New York was a lovely city, when you got used to the ridiculous speed of it, the smell, how people would always know if you were from there or not and how nobody had time for anything except their own goals. It was a hungry city and you had to be attuned to it, or it would eat you whole. She kept eyeing the calendar and praying for the last week of August to arrive as soon as possible: she was always at her best when working towards a goal, proving what she could do. Her current aimlessness was not something she could stand for long, nor how she felt when she walked down the street.

Alex didn’t like the sound of that much.

“You don’t have to force yourself, you know?” Alex says calmly. “If you don’t feel that great right now, it’s ok. You get to vent, we are not your mom.”

Angela’s mouth just fell into a little “o”, then she lets out a laugh, so loud and sudden, that Alex has to take off his headphones for a bit.

“Aw, my little psychic strikes again. Can’t hide it from you, huh?” she says.

"Guess nothing gets past him," Eva says with a knowing look. "Come on Angela, tells us the truth then!"

“I DO feel like shit, and I don't want to share it. It just feels so ridiculous to do, you know?” Angela’s discomfort rises quickly to her voice. “I skipped a semester for mental health, and I am now doing a semester in NYC, all paid by loving parents, and I get to keep my artistic scholarship at uni intact. Like… nothing is great, but it is good. The worst is behind me. That is why I don’t wanna complain about it, I feel like I am just whining.”

“Angela, you get to whine with us!” Carlos says. “We will always be here for you and we can just shut up and listed if you need. It’s been a rough year for you… and we don’t mind if you feel it is petty, it is just not healthy to keep it all in. You don’t have to repress yourself for us, or for anyone really.”

“Exactly,” Eva says.

“Guys!” she says, and then, with a heavy sigh lets it all out. “It’s just annoying, you know? This city has a lot to offer, but it feels daunting! Stepping out makes me feel… ugh. I came here because I thought I would not be as seen! When I picked NY it was because it had all of my likes in one place: theatre, diversity, a very active queer community and a highly comprehensive study program; but, it is not like the world is going to forget what I am and what I look like just because I am in another city.”

Angela is black and indigenous. Her father was from Veracruz and her mom from Oaxaca, communities where there had been historically not only indigenous people but also a lot of Afro Mexicans. Everyone in her family was brown, but Angela was something else: glistening mahogany skin, big lips and beautiful black curls that she took care of with diligence. She was the only one in the family with all these traits. There was no way she could avoid being the center of attention with her looks; it didn’t help either that she was also tall, smart and very outspoken. People just pay attention to her, she commands any room she is in.

It'd be ok if that were all, but Angela also is a trans woman. She felt hypervisible wherever she stood, and all that she wanted was a break.

“I have never been more catcalled, or sexualized in my life,” she complains. “At first it was mildly funny, I mean, it is so refreshing to be seen as woman without question. No one has doubted me, and it is lovely to be “ma’amed” all the time, but… lord, the racism and misogyny here is even more overt than back home and, boy, I didn't expect it. Men can say the most disgusting things to flirt or after being rejected. I almost miss the microaggressions back at uni. This has been insane. I need classes to start now, I need a distraction from this shit!”

“Your psychologist did say you’d have a lot to talk about after this trip,” Carlos mutters.

“Ugh, don’t even mention her, Charles,” she whines. “She asked me to e-mail her updates during these first weeks, basically I have changed my private ‘diary’ into a ‘status report’ now.”

“Does your mo…”

“OH, NO, EVA! Can you imagine?” Angela throws her head back in exasperation. “If my mom even got a whiff that I feel uncomfortable she’d probably fly over here to take me back to Mexico in a second. After what happened at uni last fall, she has been trying to convince me to drop out, dad has been the only one defending my decision to stay and… ok, maybe I said too much.”

Indeed she had. Angela had just noticed Carlos and Eva’s stunned faces, only Alex remained calm, and just because he had already known. He knew what would happen from the start, because when he had found Eva last fall the narration in his head had told him enough to control the situation. But with Eva gone from his sight, there was not much he could do. Angela’s narrative wasn’t part of Alex’s currently, and that put him on edge.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell us?” Carlos sounds genuinely hurt.

“Because I don’t want you guys to treat me like I'm a delicate thing about to break as well,” she says. “I have to face this, just like I faced those damn girls last fall: head on and showing that no matter what happens I will get up. You guys said it’s been a rough year and, yes, it’s been crap; but I know my life will sometimes will be a little harder no matter what I do, I am basically a disfranchised lottery... only with accepting parents that have loads of money! But they won’t last forever and I have to prove to them I will be fine when it comes to that... so I have to be strong, even if it is a front, I have to!”

Angela sounds determined, but her eyes betray how lonely she feels, how exhausted she is. Alex wants to speak, but Carlos is faster.

“We are here, you know? Even if just as moral support, a shoulder to cry on or to join you in the fight,” his voice is kind as ever. “I know we can’t do everything for you, but you don’t have to hold everything on your own. And I am sure your parents would be glad to know you have company no matter what, if that’s what concerns you. I don’t mind going the distance.”

All four of them remain silent for a bit, taking Carlos’ words in.

“You are so sweet, Charles,” Angela finally answers, a gentle smile filling her face. “But it is just hard to take you seriously with that face mask on. You look like a serial killer.”

And just like that tension is gone, they are all laughing and Angela is thanking them. She is truly better now… which means she can go back to what she had originally intended to do, which was eviscerating Alex.

“Eviscerate me?” Alex shouts, leaving the group stunned. Except Angela.

“Well, if you insist!” she clears her voice with a cough. “Alex, for the love of whatever deity is in fashion nowadays: open up!”

“Wha…?”

“This is the third time I say it this week, and I know we all grieve differently, but it’s been a year and a half, Alejo,” she is serious now. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. We are all worried, and I am sure neither Mamá Chema or Papá Nacho would like to see you like this.”

He is stunned.

“You need to put yourself out there again! And, before you start, we don’t mean romantically you just… need to be a part of the world again. You can’t keep withdrawing like you have been! My mom told me you haven’t even tried to visit her or gone to the house.”

How is he supposed to respond to this?

“That’’s none of your business!” Defensively, apparently. “I… I don’t... if you are all going to relate this all to the German AGAIN I swear...”

“I will,” Eva says, and he gives her a particularly nasty glare that would have frozen anyone else. “Alex, we joke about you dating the guy or doing anything with him because it’s been one of the few things that’s made you react. We all thought you had basically lost your capacity to show emotion naturally. We are all actors here, we know how you’ve been play acting emotions most of the time since what happened!”

He knew they knew, he had heard the narration, but he thought they wouldn’t care. He was wrong.

“That day I found you upset on the theatre, I was happy, Alex,” Eva says. “I thought you were opening up again. And you were, although unrelated to what I originally had in mind…”

“What do you mean?” Carlos interjects.

“Long story,” Eva answers. “The thing is, I wish you could see yourself react to Moritz the way we see it. I'm not saying you have to do anything with him, but at least opening up to someone that isn’t us, might help you. God knows you won’t speak to your paren…”

He glares again and this time Eva does stop. They all know that’s his limit.

“Why now?”

“Alejo,” Angela says. “If you can confront me about how crappy I am feeling, we are allowed to confront you about you hurting yourself. Because we care.”

“Is that it?”

“Bud, just consider this: I saw you blush and get angry for the first time in months when you brought that guy to lunch,” Carlos tries to keep his voice level, but he is clearly getting emotional. ”Of course Eva and I wanted to adopt him immediately! We were so happy to see you be… you! Even for a sec. I don’t know why that guy brings you out of your head, and maybe you haven’t noticed it yet, but we think he is healthy for you.”

He wanted to know if he looked that different of late, and the answer was: yes.

“Just consider it, love,” Angela’s voice reaches out like a caress to him. “We love you and… I just told you, we have to face things head on. If I can do it, so can you, no?”

Angela had told him that on their first audition to musical theatre. She had told him that she only befriended people that could go the distance and, if she could do it, so could he. It always worked.

“I… ugh, I'll try” he mutters. “I have a lot to think about, but… I’ll try. We'll see what happens.”

A lot. That's what would happen. A whole lot.