A Coaxed Confession

“Was that a little smile?”

Miguel narrowed his eyes at Ashlie, who sat across from him. They’d been seated in an area of the restaurant that wasn’t occupied by many other patrons. The waitress had taken their drink orders and left them to look at the menu.

“I was enjoying the music.” Ashlie glanced up from her menu, still not happy about having her evening hijacked, but trying to make the best of it. She turned her eyes upward toward the speaker mounted in the corner with a slight nod.

Miguel gave her a look of mixed concern and disbelief. He’d been told that there was live music at the restaurant, and there was a stage, but it was empty. The only thing coming over the house speakers was obviously a mixed playlist.

“And you like this?” he asked with a smile, hoping to get a rise out of her. The song playing was one by one of her favorite bands. He watched her try to give him a glowering look while at the same time biting back a smile.

“So why did you insist on going out tonight?” Ashlie asked him, after a moment’s pause. “Or rather, why did you insist I come?”

Miguel feigned a look of hurt surprise.

“Can’t a guy take his best friend in the entire world out to a restaurant that came highly recommended?”

“Really, Migs?” Ashlie again tried to mask her smile. “Seriously.”

“Seriously… I worry about you,” Miguel said, trying to look innocent. “And besides, what else were you going to do tonight anyway? This has got to be better than a cup of two-minute noodles and watching reruns on TV.”

Giving him a sidelong look, Ashlie shook her head, wondering just what her friend thought she did every night. She knew that there was more to his picking her up and taking her out alone than just hanging out. Miguel was a social being. He preferred groups, even small groups, to one-on-one interaction, so she knew that there was something on his mind.

She saw their waitress appear next to the table, holding a tray, and decided not to press the issue at the moment. Miguel would get around to revealing what it was he wanted.

“One Long Island Iced Tea, and a Virgin Mojito.”

The young lady set each drink on the table as she spoke their names. She then placed a serviette and a cocktail straw beside each.

“Ah, thank you so much,” Ashlie said to her with a smile.

“Can I get you anything else? A starter, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” Ashlie glanced at her friend as she put the straw into her drink.

“I can give you a few minutes…”

“I saw nachos on the menu,” Miguel said, “are they spicy?”

The waitress nodded.

“They can be mild, spicy, or extra spicy,” she replied.

“What do you think?” Looking at Ashlie, Miguel raised his eyebrows. “You feeling adventurous?”

Ashlie nodded, her face lighting up.

“May we have the nachos? As hot as they come, please.”

• • • •

“Would you like a sip of my drink?”

Ashlie looked up at Miguel and shook her head. Her lips and tongue still burned from the habanera nacho sauce she’d just helped him to finish, and she drew in a long breath through pursed lips, trying to sooth the sensation.

Her eyes on the verge of tearing, she looked longingly at the glass in front of her plate, emptied of all its contents, including ice. Silently, she urged the waitress to return with the refill she’d ordered.

“Just like when we were kids,” Miguel laughed. He watched her fondly, shaking his head. “You never could handle the hot stuff.”

Ashlie narrowed her eyes, smiling at him through her pain. She really couldn’t handle spicy foods well, but she would never stop eating them, and especially not with her best friend.

It was the first thing she had bonded with him over during a silent exchange on the day they’d met, just under a year after she’d lost her parents. She had been running away from some particularly mean children during lunch at the children’s home and had ducked into a corridor with a staircase in it leading to the dorm building’s second floor, hoping to have lost them. There, sitting on the bottom step, was a visibly frightened, small-framed boy with tousled brown hair, looking up at her with wide eyes.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Stepping past him, Ashlie fought to catch her breath, her head against her arm, leaning against the stairway’s handrail. She then cautiously approached the door, looking to make sure she hadn’t been followed, before turning to silently regard the motionless boy, giving him a nod.

Exhaling in relief, he returned the gesture. He glanced from Ashlie to the empty space on the stair he sat on, then back to her.

As she lowered herself on to the step, thankful to be able to sit down, if only for a moment, Ashlie silently watched the boy beside her.

He held out an open packet of crisps to her.

Gingerly, she took one of the crisps from the packet and put it into her mouth. She nodded once again to her silent companion before her eyes sprang wide open. The inside of her mouth felt like it was on fire as she began to cough and sputter, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Beside her, the young man looked panicked and dropped the crisp packet to the floor as he fumbled for his juice box, which he quickly handed to her.

After taking a couple of sips of the juice, Ashlie tried to give it back to him, but he shook his head. He touched it with the back of his hand, raising his chin to indicate that she take another drink.

Ashlie nodded at him with a smile, softly nudging him with her arm.

From then on, the two of them had been inseparable. Meeting Miguel was one of Ashlie’s most cherished memories. And eating the hottest foods they could find together had become one of her favorite, albeit painful, things to do.

“Sure won’t you have some?” Miguel asked, tipping his nearly empty glass toward her, a slight look of genuine concern on his face. In it there was a few sips of liquid left and a half-melted ice cube.

“I’ll wait.” Ashlie croaked, shaking her head, while not taking her eyes off of the piece of ice at the bottom of his glass. “You know I can’t drink.”

Miguel said nothing as he watched her lean down slightly as if to try and obscure what she was doing, and fan at her slightly open lips with her fingers. He shook his head trying not to smile at the look of both alarm and relief that crossed her face as she watched the waitress place two freshly filled glasses on the table and collected the empty ones as well as the empty plate.

“And two brandy and cokes; on the house,” the server said, placing two more glasses on the table. She turned to Ashlie with a smile. “Charlie says it’s good to see you again.”

Miguel raised his eyebrows, looking from the two extra glasses on the table to Ashlie, who bit her lip, a look of confusion on her face.

“Enjoy,” the waitress told them. She assured them that their food would be out presently and turned to go.

Wasting no time, Ashlie lifted her glass to her lips. Drawing in a sip of the sweet liquid, and with it a mint leaf, which she bit down on, she swallowed with a sigh of relief.

“Who is Charlie?” she then asked Miguel, wondering how many times he had been to the restaurant before. The way he’d spoken in the car, she’d gotten the idea that he’d only recently heard of the place.

Miguel shook his head, visibly confused. Being his first time in the establishment, his first thought was that someone Ashlie had met somewhere before had recognized her, or that perhaps his friend had been there before. The waitress had used the word ‘again’ as she looked at Ashlie. It wasn’t like her to go anywhere new without him, and she’d usually mention meeting someone, especially a guy.

“Sweetie, it’s teatime,” Miguel said with a smile, after a short pause.

Looking from him to his glass, Ashlie again shook her head, her eyes widening. Miguel’s brows creased for a moment and he and he followed her gaze, before laughing out loud.

“Not this tea,” he said with a smile, taking a sip of the drink. “I haven’t heard from you in days. We talk every night. Something’s not right. So, spill… what gives?”

“I don’t know,” Ashlie said quietly, still chewing the mint leaf.

“I haven’t heard from you in three days, Ash.”

“I guess I just haven’t had much to say.”

“Not even good night?” Miguel’s eyebrows raised slightly. The hurt look on his face was genuine. “You usually call me just before bed. I’ve tucked you in over the phone for years. Ever since you left the home.”

“I know,” Ashlie sighed as she drew a line in the condensation on the outside of her glass with her fingertip. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately. But you don’t have to worry about me, Migs.”

“I think I will,” Miguel answered, his voice serious. “You’re my little sister, and it’s my job to worry about you.”

Ashlie smiled, as she always did when he called her that.

“I’m two years older than you,” she reminded him.

“And? You’ll always be my little sister… so let me worry over you.” Miguel wore a concerned look. He pushed his hand forward on the table, towards her. “Now, what’s up?”

Ashlie shrugged. She really didn’t want to talk about why she hadn’t called him. She didn’t have an excuse other than she’d been retreating to what she could only describe as a dark place, waiting anxiously for the next time Christina would talk to her.

After hearing what the therapist had told her in their session, Ashlie dreaded the mere idea of their next communication, almost as much as she was terrified at the thought of the alter just taking over as she’d done a few times in the recent past. She’d spent the past few nights going to bed early after taking a mild sedative, and praying that the pill would work quickly.

“Seriously, Ashlie,” Miguel said, his features softening, “you’ve called to say good night to me almost every day since you left the home. I know when something is wrong. Now talk… Please.”

“Migs…”

“Don’t Migs me. I haven’t heard from you since Sunday…”

Ashlie took another sip of her sweet, rum-flavoured, minty drink as she watched Miguel’s brows crease. He lowered his eyes for a moment as he recalled something.

“You told me Sunday that you were having an important meeting with Dr. Mayz the next day.” Miguel met his friends gaze. He reached across the table, touching her hand.

Biting her bottom lip, Ashlie leaned back slightly, pulling her hand from Miguel’s.

“Is something wrong, Ash? What did the doctor say? What happened?”

Miguel did not take his eyes off of as he spoke. Even if she had not been his oldest friend, he would have been able to tell that there was something wrong. He watched as she slowly shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek, and he had to fight the urge to rush to her and hug her.

As fragile as she was, Ashlie was and always had been, the strongest person he’d ever met, and not just because of the front she continually put up. The few times he’d ever witnessed her come to tears had truly frightened him.

“Ashlie…”

“I’m scared, Miguel.”