If there’s one thing you should know about my family, nothing stays secret for long. Poor David learned that the second he walked into the yard.

The cousins waved David down. “Get over here!” one of them called out. Questions immediately flew at him—”How’d you get Christina to come?”, “What lies did you tell her, huh?”, “What are you trying to do with my cousin?”—and my personal favorite, “What are you gonna tell Jessica?”

David just threw his hands up in surrender, no words, no expression. His silent way of saying he wasn’t answering, at least not tonight.

I wasn’t satisfied. I pulled him to the side, determined to get the real story, not the scraps he gave the others.

But just like with them, he gave me nothing but vague responses. No real answers, no clarity. The only detail he did share was that, earlier that morning, when he dropped off her phone, he’d seen Christina in disarray after Arturo showed up at the house. He also admitted she threw him out through the basement’s back door. But the part that stood out the most was his confession: he felt jealous.

He hated being hidden, treated like someone unworthy of acknowledgment. It stung his pride, fueling a hunger to make her notice him.

For David, this was just another game. But I wasn’t looking for games, I wanted answers. “Okay… but when did you text her to come?” I pressed, hoping he’d finally crack.

Nothing. He wasn’t even listening. His eyes stayed locked on Christina, his attention fixed on her every move like a predator watching prey. I might as well have been talking to the wall.

Before I knew it, he was back at her side as she stepped away from the grill, his eyes dancing with curiosity. “Tía Patty always has something to say, huh?” he joked, glancing toward where her aunt stood, still chatting away.

“Always,” Christina laughed, shaking her head. “What has she told you about me?”

David leaned in, lowering his voice in that teasing way of his. “Oh, nothing… she just told me to take good care of you tonight.”

I knew it was a lie, but Christina seemed charmed, she laughed a little too hard at that…

The evening only grew livelier. String lights glowed overhead, Latin music thumped through the air, and the yard buzzed with food, laughter, and family. Christina looked at ease—comfortable, almost like she belonged here.

Then came the questions. Nicole, our youngest cousin, started with, “Is it true you lived in Alaska?”

Christina smirked, playing into the mystery. “Alaska? No, not quite. But I’ve lived in some interesting places. Let’s just say that.” The group chuckled, hanging on the promise of stories she wasn’t telling.

Nicole pushed again, unable to help herself. “Like where?”

Christina smiled, took a slow sip of her beer, and casually answered, “Oh, just Costa Rica, Germany, Barcelona. A few places.”
That was my moment. I jumped in.

“Christina, your whole life sounds like a story. You should write it. You’d probably make a nice buck or two.” It sounded playful, but I was fishing, trying to see which parts were genuine. Her life already played out like a novella.

“Entonces, tú lo escribes,” she shot back. And I took that seriously. If she was giving me permission, then I had to dig deeper.

“Yeah… but how would I know what’s true unless you tell me?” I pressed.
“Si quieres saber, yo te lo digo.” That was all I needed—the opening to separate rumor from truth.

I was ready to keep pushing, but Aunt Patty showed up with two plates piled high with food, one for Christina and one for David.

The smell was irresistible, and the comfort of the meal made everyone pause. Jorge, one of David’s friends, clapped him on the back with a laugh. “Well, well, David, stepping up your game, huh? Christina, better watch out—this guy’s known for his smooth moves.”.

Lucia, the playful cousin, said, “Yeah, David, if Jessica finds out, you’re in big trouble. She’s super protective of her friends.”

David laughed nervously, though his smile never wavered. “Come on, don’t jinx it. Let’s keep this between us, okay?”.

“¡Ay!” Aunt Patty cut in with a playful scolding. “¡Paren ya! Déjenlos comer.”

Little by little, the group dispersed. Friends wandered into other parts of the house until eventually Christina and David were left on their own again. The music softened, and their conversation settled into something easier, more private.

When David finally reached for her hand and led her to the dance floor, Christina’s heart skipped. There was an unspoken energy between them, an electricity she hadn’t expected. As they swayed together, the noise of the party faded away. For that moment, it was just them, moving like they had always been meant to find each other here. David pulled her closer, his hand resting lightly, but possessively, on her waist.

And me? I couldn’t shake the thought that everyone else saw two people dancing, but I saw something else, a spark that might burn down the whole family barbecue.

So then this is how I got the “rights” to this story.