Chapter 15

* * * *

“My bisabuelois rich,” Angel said. “He told me I was going to get all his money someday, because I remind him so much of himself when he was little.”

“Cool. Will it be enough money to buy your own computer, you think?” To my nine-year-old mind, the laptop my mom claimed I wasn’t old enough for was the one thing wealth could afford me.

“Probably,” Angel said. “Puerto Rico was fun. It would have been better with you, though. I met some new kids, but you’re still my best friend. I still like your eyes.”

Well, that was good to know.

“Every day, when I went swimming, I said your name in the ocean, because my bisabuelotold me the whole world is connected by water.”

“Cool! I looked at stars, too, like you said to. I picked out the brightest one and imagined you could see it whenever I did.”

* * * *

Angel was the one who had taught me how to be romantic, with his star and ocean thing, way back when we were boys. He had to remember.