Chapter Text
Marlene Murray never lived anywhere else but the much-too-hot, humid, vast, slightly dangerous, but beautiful place she called home. Not only had she never lived anywhere else, but, throughout the entire thirteen years she’d been alive, had never once left her hometown. Not for holidays, not even because her father wasn’t even originally from that country. She’d never left, but she didn’t mind.
Her hometown was quiet, warm, and small. She knew her neighbors. They knew her. She had fallen into a quiet routine she didn’t mind. She liked her life.
So, when her father started coming home late, picking up extra-hours, and when her mother would wake up later and later, her routine started to shift. She started picking up extra chores around the house, since her mother seemed less capable of performing them by the day. First, she set the table. Then, she cooked the food. Then, she had to feed her mom.
Colon cancer, the doctor had said. She was embarrassed to say she didn’t know where or what the colon was, but she knew cancer. She knew what it meant. And she could see it, every day, on the way her mom slowly deteriorated in front of her.
Two weeks after her diagnosis, her father told her they were moving. To his home country, he said, with his mom. With Marlene’s grandmother.
She knew her grandmother. She came over, although rarely, and was always kind and nice to her. Although Marlene knew a little English from what her father had taught her, she never seemed to be completely able of understanding her. But it didn’t matter. They always had fun.
So, really, she didn’t mind the move. Sure, she left all her friends behind, without even giving them a proper goodbye. Sure, she left behind her small companion, Beto. Sure, the new house was smaller than her own, and her room felt claustrophobic. Sure, in this city the sky was always grey, and the air around her was always moist, like it would rain at any moment. Sure, she was constantly, perpetually, by herself. But she didn’t mind the move.
With her father’s work becoming more and more demanding, since he had to provide for a woman whose medical condition kept declining by the second, as well as providing food for not only Marlene, but her grandmother as well, he was never around. He left early, before Marlene woke up, and arrived by the time she was washing the dishes from her lonely dinner.
Her mother had become a background character in her life. She was always tucked away in her bedroom, nursing a headache, or a stomachache, or a whateverache. Lately, there was always something wrong with her mother, and Marlene didn’t know what to do about it.
Not that she could, really. She’d been asked by her mother to not go into her room without asking. It was brought up after Marlene walked into the room and saw her grandmother holding a bucket, while her mother threw up what could only be blood into it. So, Marlene steered clear of the bedroom.
With her grandmother frequently checking on her mother, her father working, and summer being in full swing, she had very little to do around the house. So, she chose to spend her time outside.
At first, her grandmother tried to keep her inside. Marlene didn’t understand why, since her grandmother didn’t speak Spanish, and Marlene’s English wasn’t good enough to understand her grandmother. At all. So, she would stare at the woman, confused, with no real way of understanding each other. It seemed to exasperate the woman, who eventually gave in, and would only step out every once in a while, to make sure Marlene was still there.
She was always there. The street, which had a name she could not pronounce, was usually always empty, so she spent her days kicking a ball, walking around the neighborhood, or reading.
Then, her father would come home, tell her to get inside, and she’d eat dinner with her grandmother while her father took care of her mother.
In a way, she’d gotten her routine back, but she didn’t like it very much.
But her grandmother wasn’t bad. She tried. She always snuck sweets at her, pressing a finger to her lips, and Marlene would smile at her eat it discreetly. Not that it mattered, really. Her parents never saw her. Sometimes, they’d go to the farmer’s market together, or watch old movies on the TV.
It was a quiet life.
Today, staring at what had to be the first sunny day Marlene had seen since her move, her grandmother offered a ball in her direction, pointing at the two boys who played outside, on the street. Marlene had seen them before, but their schedules were weird. More often than not, they stood outside the house at dinner, or during breakfast.
But today, with the sun beating down on them, they looked more approachable than before. So Marlene found it easy to grab the ball from her grandmother’s hands, put on her boots, and walk down the steps of her house.
The day was warm, but with summer coming to an end, and her hometown’s summer being much, much hotter than this, she found herself a bit chilly. The street was a little narrow, and if two cars were to drive by at the same time, they’d struggle a little, but the houses were pretty. They were all red, with white details.
Marlene suspected the boys were brothers, since they lived together, in the house across from hers, but even if they hadn’t, she would’ve suspected it anyway. The resemblance between them was stark. They both had a dirty blond shade of hair, and brown eyes that, when they looked up at her as she approached, looked lighter under the sun, almost hazel.
The eldest had a quiet, cautious look to him. He had to be older than her, but not by a lot. Perhaps fifteen, at most. His hands were shoved inside his pockets, and his head hung a little low, looking at her through pale eyelashes. He was taller than her by a head, and carried himself like such. He looked at her like he was sizing her up, figuring her out. He had small scars on his arms, like scratches, and the faint ghost of a bruise on his upper arm. His lips were pressed thin.
The youngest, despite the physical resemblance, was the exact opposite. He looked to be younger than her, maybe twelve. Where his brother was cautious and reserved, he was loud and energetic. His hair was a mess, and he had blue lips, like he’d been eating sweets. When he looked up at her, he was much more relaxed, even surprised to see her.
She stood in front of them, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, and smiled at them, waving a hand. The youngest waved back, while the eldest simply tilted his head at her. She threw the ball in the youngest’s direction, and he caught it with ease, looking at her quizzically. “Play with me?”
Her English, she knew, was not good. While her father used to speak English to her, the longer he lived in her hometown, the more he settled for speaking Spanish, since her mother didn’t like speaking English. So, what little she could grasp from him, she used, but she could tell her accent was broken and difficult to understand.
But the youngest didn’t mind. He immediately threw the ball on the floor, and started doing tricks by himself, seemingly caught up with it. Marlene gave him a long look, before she stepped in, and kicked the ball away from his own feet. She wasn’t good at football, not by a long shot, but she enjoyed the look of disbelief he gave her. He swiftly ran after the ball, and held it under his foot, before pointing his chin at Marlen’s house, particularly against a large wall.
She smiled, and quietly took the goalie position.
Some of his strikes hit the wall, others hit her hands, and some painful ones hit her face. She dropped on her knees, holding her face, but she wasn’t crying, she was laughing, along with the youngest boy, who said something she didn’t understand.
“Ow.” She croaked out between giggles.
The eldest had been watching from a distance, staring at them cautiously. But Marlene wasn’t awkward, and she was having fun. She narrowed her dark eyes in his direction, before running over to him.
Panting, exhausted from having played goalie against a clearly talented boy, she smiled at him. She pointed at the wall where she’d been standing, eyes twinkling. “Play with us.”
He stared at her for a second. His eyes, despite being so similar to his brother’s, seemed to be darker, even when they were the exact same shade. His pale eyelashes fluttered in the house’s direction, his house, staring at the door. His eyes were glued to it, like someone would come out to get them the way her grandmother often did. He said something she couldn’t understand, in a low voice, so quiet, even if she spoke his language, she wouldn’t have been able to hear.
After a beat, he sighed and took position in front of the wall. Then, Marlene and the younger boy took turns throwing hits in his direction, none of which landed, but the two of them laughed excitedly every time one of them had a near-goal.
The evening was spent like that. Sometimes, she’d shift positions, with the youngest being goalie, which, she found, was even worse than Marlene’s own attempt, and the eldest sometimes throwing hits at her, which always landed. He was good, really good. She was reminded of all those times she played with her friends, and wondered if he was better than them.
Not that she would ever know. She didn’t know if she’d ever go back.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in a beautiful hue of oranges and pinks. Marlene was sweating, and the three of them were out of breath. She found even the eldest seemed to be enjoying their time, occasionally smiling, although the serious, cautious expression never left his face.
Once it was clear the three of them were done with the game, Marlene grabbed the ball. She looked over to her house, where the light in the kitchen made it clear to her dinner was about to be served. Her grandmother used to wait for her father to come home to serve dinner, but he rarely ate with them, so she served dinner whenever. That meant she’d come get her soon.
She turned to the boys, a smile on her lips, and pointed at her chest. “I’m Marlene.”
The youngest boy, catching his breath, tilted his head. She didn’t understand why he looked confused, until her name came out from his own lips. “Marlene?”
The girl frowned, now tilting her head in return. She didn’t like the way he said it. He said it like Mar-lean. No, she wasn’t Mar-lean. She shook her head, pointing at herself again, in case he didn’t get it. “Marlene.”
He blinked back at her, clearly not understanding what was wrong about the way he said it. “Marlene.”
There it was again. Mar-lean. She scrunched her nose, frustrated. No. Not Mar-lean. Before she could attempt to correct him again, the eldest, who had been leaning quietly against the wall, approached her, giving her a long look with those dark eyes of his.
“Marlene.”
There. She blinked, a smile tugging at her lips, before nodding her head eagerly. He said it right. Mar-lehn. Not Mar-lean. She pointed at herself, one last time, with a smile plastered on her face. “Marlene.”
The eldest nodded in her direction, eyes briefly darting back to the door, before pointing at his brother. “Tommy.” He said, voice low. Then, he pointed his finger at his own chest, staring her down. “Simon.”
The redhead nodded her head, staring at them with a smile. “Tommy y Simón.”
Now it was the eldest’s turn to frown in her direction, as if she had said it wrong. He shook his head, dropping his hands by his side. “Simon.”
She could only stare at him in return. She could hear the difference. He said it like Sai-mon. She said it the only way she had ever known how to say the name. The way she’d pronounced one of her neighbor’s name. She repeated, a little unsure. “Simón?”
He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head again. “Simon.”
She smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. “Simón.”
But, before he could interject again, her grandmother’s voice called her name from her house. The three kids turned to look at her, as she waved in her direction. She smiled, only then noticing how hungry she was, and waved back at her, her other hand gripping the ball.
Tommy, much more energetic than his brother, asked something to her grandmother. She couldn’t understand, but it sounded like a question, she thought. Her grandmother smiled at the boy, nodding her head, and answered something in return.
Marlene sighed. She hated not understanding.
Tommy seemed satisfied, and nodded at her grandmother, before he smiled at Marlene and waved at her goodbye. She smiled back, waving at him, and then at the eldest. She gave them a smile, before, tentatively, looking at Simon.
She rolled off her tongue, trying her best. “Simón.”
The boy frowned, shaking his head, crossing his arms before his chest. “No. Simon.”
She threw her head back, grunting. Simon. Simón. It sounded the same to her.
He threw a look at her and spoke. “Marlene.”
But he said it wrong, which confused her. He had already said it properly. Not Mar-lean. Mar-lehn. She pointed a finger at him, shaking her head. But she understood. He knew how to say her name, but wouldn’t do it until she got it right.
“Simón.”
He raised a brow, and he almost looked amused as he responded. “Marlene.”
Ugh. Mar-lean.
But her grandmother called for her once more, and she could only narrow her eyes in his direction before she ran up the steps, leaving the two boys alone in an already dark street.
The days passed like that. Marlene would go outside, hoping the boys would be there, but it wasn’t often they were. Even if the day was right, even if the sun was out, they weren’t there. Sometimes she’d catch glimpses of them and run to the door, barely catching her grandmother as she tried to say something she never understood.
Whenever their schedules aligned, they would play for hours. Not in silence, not at all, since both Tommy and Marlene talked like their lives depended on it, but neither of them could fully understand each other. Simon, however, never spoke, although he didn’t have to say anything to make it clear he didn’t have a clue what Marlene was saying. Still, she talked, told them things, which Simon usually responded by tilting his head to the side before shaking his head.
That made Marlene only more desperate to learn English. She started paying attention to the shows her grandmother player for her during breakfast, catching words, here and there, and saying them back to her grandmother, who would nod, correct her sometimes, or just shake her head with a hopeless look in her eyes.
But Marlene saw the boys less and less as autumn rolled around. They went from being outside a couple of times a week to only once or twice, and then maybe once every two weeks, until September had finally arrived, and she hadn’t seen them in over a month.
Yet, they had become only a thought in the back of her head since she was preoccupied with other matters: school.
When her grandmother woke her up, awfully early, Marlene could only rub her eyes and let out a loud yawn. As she tried to not fall asleep her grandmother laid out a sort of uniform. She narrowed her eyes at it, letting them linger on each individual piece of clothing. A white shirt. A grey dress. Some knee-length socks. A blue cardigan. A blue tie.
She scrunched her nose. She didn’t like blue.
Back home, her uniform had been just as boring. Grey, white, and, rather than blue, green. She had half-hoped coming here would give her a more exciting uniform, but was quickly proved wrong when she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked…boring. She stepped closer to the mirror, tucking strands of hair out of her face. It had grown longer, since it had been her mother who cut it for her, so her red strands of hair fell all the way to her waist. She wasn’t too sure if she liked it.
She walked over to the bathroom, looking for her toothbrush. On the sink were too many medical supplies for Marlene to keep track as she moved them to the side. IVs, medicine, pill-cutters, gauze. She shook her head, swiftly putting tooth-paste on her toothbrush, trying to ignore the horrible feeling gnawing at her at the thought of her mother’s health declining.
She put on perfume, reapplied deodorant, and looked at herself nervously for the fifth time. She hated first-days.
As she turned to go down the stairs, she halted, pressing her lips in a thin line. She had heard her mother crying the night before, much like she always did, but today, it was quiet. Her father was long gone, he usually always left before she was even awake. But this was her first day of school.
She turned on her heel, and with a soft smile, crept her mother’s bedroom door open. She immediately scrunched her nose. It smelled like an old closet. Like the pantry where her grandmother stored all her spices. The blinds were shut, which meant she had to navigate in the dark. But she could see well enough. She could see her mother, slumped into a sitting position, staring at the ceiling. She was awake.
Marlene moved quietly toward the side of her bed, and it seemed today her mother was a bit more energetic than before. A weak arm reached out to the bedside lamp, hoisted on top of a drawer that held several glasses full of water, as well as pills and a lot of medicine Marlene didn’t know the use for.
The room was engulfed in light then, and Marlene could take a good look at her mom for the first time in days. Her eyes, dark like hers, were sunken, dry, empty. Her lips, constantly parted these days, were chapped, cracked, filled with dried droplets of blood around the edges. Her skin was clammy, and despite the coldness of her hand as she placed it gently on Merlene’s cheek, she was sweating, pearly beads running down her neck and chest. Her collarbones stuck out, and Marlene could see what she assumed were ribs. She was skinnier than before, even though she didn’t know how that was possible.
Her mother’s hair had grown a little since it had fell out. It barely reached her ears. Where she’d had wild, brown curls before, now she had straight, thin hair. Marlene pressed her lips in a thin line.
“Look at you, with your uniform.” Her mom whispered, voice frail, dry, and hoarse, in Spanish.
Marlene looked down at herself, and then smiled widely at her mom, beaming, almost. She nodded, before responding in the same language. “I’m excited. But I don’t like the blue. I look dumb.”
Her mom let out a soft breath, which Marlene would think was a laugh, if it didn’t sound so exhausted. She closed her eyes, sinking into the pillow, the words slipping off her lips in a harsh, controlled Spanish. “Turn the light off for me, corazón. My head hurts.”
Marlene sighed. She knew what this meant. She’d sleep the rest of the day, which meant her father would be locked in this room with her.
But she obliged, because her mom was in pain. Because she had learned she gained nothing from complaining about it. So, giving her mother a quick kiss on her forehead, she turned off the light and quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.
She shook her head, scrunching her nose, and ran down the stairs, where her grandmother was already getting an umbrella ready, in case the threatening clouds released all the rain they held. Marlene smiled at the woman.
Her grandmother smiled at her, her green eyes crinkling as she adjusted the umbrella to shield them from the chill. “Yer bag, lass.” She reminded, her tone gentle, yet full of warmth.
Marlene nodded, having forgotten her bag, and dashed back into the house, her feet skidding slightly on the floor as she grabbed her schoolbag from the side of the bed.
She ran back outside, clutching the bag tightly in her hands as her grandmother gave her a long look, kind eyes staring at her. They made their way down the street, and Marlene’s eyes darted around, taking in everything with her usual curiosity.
Abu would be walking her to school today, because Marlene had never really seen the place. She was used to walking to school by herself.
She paused.
There, standing at the steps of the house across the street, were Tommy and Simon. But it wasn’t just them. There was a woman with them. Marlene’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked at her—her hair was dark, like her mother’s, but it was flat and unkempt, almost lifeless. Her face, pale and worn, didn’t show the warmth Marlene had come to expect from mothers. Instead, it was vacant. Hollow. Her eyes, dark like Marlene’s, seemed to stare through everything.
Tommy and Simon wore the same uniform she did, although they wore pants. Tommy’s uniform wasn’t well kept. His shirt wasn’t tucked properly, and his tie was loose. His shoes looked like they’d seen better days. Simon, for his part, looked spotless. Not in an overly-neat, off-putting way, but in a way that made him look put together.
Without thinking, Marlene ran over to them, her boots slapping against the wet pavement. She waved at the woman with a smile, maybe expecting her to act like her old friends’ moms. Maybe expected her to react at all. The woman didn’t wave back, nor did her expression change. She just stared at Marlene, offering a vacant smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Marlene hesitated, but she smiled at Simon and Tommy. “Hey.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up a little, and he waved back, his grin relaxed, but genuine. But Simon—Simon didn’t respond. His face, even more tired than before, was pale, and he just looked at her for a moment. There was something about him, something she couldn’t understand. He didn’t look like he was upset, but something in his eyes told her he hadn’t slept well. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and he avoided looking at her for more than a second before his gaze dropped to the ground. His shoulders slumped slightly, like he was too tired to even hold them up.
From behind her, Marlene heard her grandmother greet the woman with words she didn’t understand, saying something in a way that made her grandmother’s voice sound a little more formal. Marlene only caught the tone of the conversation, not the words themselves. The woman nodded, barely looking at Marlene’s grandmother.
“Yes, thank you.” The woman murmured, her voice dull, like she was barely aware of what was going on around her. Marlene was left staring at Simon, wishing he would smile back at her, but he didn’t. He just kept looking at his shoes, his posture more closed off than ever. The air between them felt heavy, as though there was more that she didn’t understand.
Her grandmother’s voice was soft, almost too soft to make out, as she said something to Simon. Marlene glanced over, and to her surprise, Simon lifted his head slightly, meeting her grandmother's gaze for just a moment. His eyes were dull, but they seemed to soften, and he nodded quietly.
Then, both Simon and Tommy began to descend the steps. Simon’s hands were still buried in his pockets, while Tommy gave his mom one last look before descending the steps.
Marlene watched, confused. They were going to school together, it seemed. She looked up at her grandmother, hoping for an answer, but the boys’ mother was busy talking to her grandmother now. Her voice was low, but the words were lost on Marlene.The woman’s lips moved slowly, her head bobbing as she nodded.
Her grandmother, now with her other hand resting on Marlene's shoulder, gave her a gentle push toward Simon and Tommy. “Let’s go, lass.” She said, guiding her in their direction.
Marlene, still unsure, walked toward the boys. She hesitated for a second before falling into step beside Simon. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance at her. But Marlene didn’t mind. She liked the quietness of the walk, even though it felt strange walking beside him. It felt like the air between them had thickened, but she didn’t let it bother her.
She glanced around, the streets still wet from the morning mist, the trees lining the sidewalks swaying slightly in the cool breeze. The city, although different, still had its charm, and Marlene couldn’t help but smile. She let her eyes wander, taking in everything she could see. She was going to school. Finally.
After a few moments, she turned to Simon, her voice small, but full of hope. “You…have friends? Amigos, here?” She asked, her words a jumble of English and Spanish, unsure of how to ask properly.
Simon didn’t respond, his gaze still directed at the ground ahead of them. At the question, he quickened his pace a little, to be out of her reach.
Tommy, for his part, looked at Simon, annoyed, and then at her. “He doesn’t have many friends. But I do.”
Marlene smiled at the comment. It took a bit, but she nodded her head, understanding the boy. Her English wasn’t good, but it wasn’t entirely bad. Still, it was hard to translate everything in her head.
She tilted her head at Simon, looking over at Tommy. “He doesn’t talk?”
He chuckled lightly, looking at the ground. “Doesn’t talk much, but he’s okay. Just give him some time.”
Marlene smiled, trying to match Tommy’s energy, though she noticed Simon still hadn’t looked back at her. It wasn’t that he was mean, just... distant, maybe. She glanced at Tommy, trying to make sense of the older boy’s quiet brother.
“Does he always stay so... serious?” She asked, her voice still uncertain but curious.
“Yeah.” Tommy said with a soft laugh, not bothered by it at all. “He’s just like that. You get used to it.”
Marlene nodded, her smile softening as she tried to understand. She caught Simon’s eye for a moment, but as usual, he quickly looked away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something Simon was keeping to himself, but she didn’t want to press him.
Tommy’s easy-going nature didn’t let the moment feel too heavy. “You know, you’ve got a proper kick on ya.” He said, giving her a sidelong glance. “Not bad at all. You ever play proper football back where you came from?”
Marlene gave a small laugh, shaking her head. She struggled understanding the full sentence, but caught more than enough to answer. “No. Just with friends.”
“Ah, well, we’ll have to teach ya how to play proper Manchester style, yeah?” Tommy grinned, clearly proud of his skills.
Marlene laughed, enjoying the shift in the conversation. “Manchester style?”
“Oh, you’ll be fine.” Tommy said, nudging her again. “Once you’re on the pitch, you’ll fit right in. Just wait till Simon lets you join in. He’s really good.”
Tommy brought out a chocolate bar from his bag, earning a look from Simon. Despite the disapproving look, he didn’t say anything as the youngest ate his bar, his pathing odd. He walked closer to buildings, to look through the windows, and then would stay back, staring at trees. Soon enough, Marlene gave up trying to keep up with him, and quietly fell in pace next to Simon.
She continued walking, her boots tapping lightly against the wet pavement, as Simon stayed silent beside her. She thought about asking more questions about school, but didn’t understand enough about the place they were going to. Instead, she looked at him again and then back at the ground ahead of them. She smiled, trying again in her broken English. “You’re…good in football?”
Simon’s eyes flicked to her briefly, and for a second, Marlene thought he might answer. But instead, he just nodded, not saying a word. Marlene smiled to herself. She didn’t mind the silence. She was happy just to walk beside him.
The morning was cool, and the streets were quiet, but there was a feeling of something new ahead. Marlene couldn’t help but be excited, even if Simon didn’t want to talk. She hoped the day would be full of new things—things she could understand, things that weren’t as hard as the words she couldn’t quite speak yet.
As they walked, she stole another glance at Simon. “Simón.” She said softly, practicing the way he had said his name.
Marlene smiled to herself, pleased by the small step she had taken to try and speak Simon’s name correctly. But, as soon as the word left her mouth, she saw the slight narrowing of his eyes. She got it wrong, again.
He looked at her, his expression unreadable, before he spoke, his voice barely audible. “Marlene.”
It was the same way he always said it—the English version, with the Mar-lean sound. Marlene frowned, the frustration creeping up inside her. He could say her name the way it was supposed to sound in Spanish, but he wouldn’t return the favor unless she did it first. She puffed out her cheeks, her eyes narrowing slightly. She stuck her tongue out at him, but there was no malice in it. It was just her way of dealing with the irritation that was building inside her.
She let out a small sigh, her lips pressed tightly together. It wasn’t fair, was it? He knew how to say her name correctly, but he insisted on saying it wrong just because she couldn’t get his right. She wanted to tell him it was annoying, to explain why it bothered her so much, but her words never came out the way she wanted them to.
Instead, she let her tongue linger for a moment before she muttered. “Not fair.”
Simon didn’t respond. His hands remained shoved in his pockets, his pace slow, as if he didn’t mind the silence between them. Marlene watched him for a moment, wondering why he wouldn’t just say it the way she wanted. Why couldn’t he just say Marlene the way she had always known it? It wasn’t even the same, really. He wasn’t saying it the way it was supposed to sound, and it made her feel like he was rejecting something about her. Something small, but important.
The morning air carried a light chill, and her boots continued to tap against the wet pavement, the rhythmic sound of their walk soothing, even though her thoughts felt tangled. The school, still some distance away, seemed to loom ahead, growing larger as they walked. She could hear the sound of distant chatter from the few people already on their way there, but none of it felt real to her just yet. Not until she understood how everything worked. Not until the words made sense, the names sounded right, and people understood her.
Marlene glanced up again at Simon. He hadn’t looked at her once since he’d said her name. His eyes were always fixed on the ground, on his feet, on the street ahead of them. Anything but hers.
She felt a pang of disappointment but pushed it down. She wasn’t going to let it ruin her first day.
So, instead of dwelling on it, Marlene took a deep breath and tried once more, her voice softer this time. “Simón…” She said, slowly, purposefully, still trying to get the pronunciation right, even though she wasn’t sure she would ever sound like them. “Simón.”
This time, Simon didn’t immediately correct her. He didn’t say anything, but Marlene noticed the smallest of shifts in his posture—his shoulders just the slightest bit less tense. But he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
Marlene smiled, a small, private victory for herself. She wouldn’t give up. Not on this, and not on him.
The school was getting closer, but the silence between them was still thick. She’d have to figure out what to say next, how to break through the wall between them, but for now, walking beside him—quiet, but not alone—was enough.