text: Love is a gamble. There are times it turns out well, living a life of fulfillment and pleasure, and there are times you lose every penny you own and the house in the divorce. But when it came to the Valdez women and love, they had exceptionally terrible luck when rolling the dice. That didn’t stop Mel Valdez from developing the biggest crush on Jack Brunson that had ever existed in the history of unrequited high school love. When she spotted him across the hall in freshman year: his olive skin, big brown eyes, beautiful dark hair, and those luscious lips that were the same color as-- Mel stopped herself. She was a Valdez, born to be cursed by love like all the other women in her family. Tiá Monica, at her late husband’s funeral, was surprised by unknown gambling debts, and his girlfriend. Turns out he faked his death in the end. Her abuelo left her abuela when he discovered she was pregnant with triplets. Her cousin Rosie’s husband turned out to be a crypto miner that sold all of their possessions only to lose them in a bad investment. Mel’s own father was currently doing time for being a serial arsonist who took pleasure in burning down abandoned malls. Jack Brunson and the way his soccer shorts made Mel’s heart flutter were buried far beneath the earth’s surface. Freshman year went without incident and Mel forced herself to forget everything about him and enjoy the few friends she had. Sisters before misters. Which worked until sophomore year, when Jack’s family moved and now he used the same train station as Mel to make it to school and her feelings came back with a vengeance. In order to survive Mel resurrected the “don’t talk to me” uniform she invented in middle school: AirPods in, eyes glued to the phone, and stand so far away from any other living thing that you melt into the background. Mel dusted off the old grunge hits for special effect and stood so far away from Jack on the platform she almost fell off the cement and onto the grass. That worked for a while, until it didn’t. Jack’s radiant smile and the way he always had so much energy no matter the heat in May or if the train shed was covered in snow by December, made it impossible to ignore him forever. Mel could at least say “good morning”. He was much too magnetic and far too gorgeous for her to not at least try. They would be seniors next year, practically adults, and Mel felt trapped by the idea that she was still the shy little immigrant girl who learned English in third grade. She couldn’t even talk to a boy and it put her so down in the dumps even her family began to notice. “What’s wrong mija?” Madre asked, not looking up from her papers across the dining room table. She had that annoying ability to sense that something was off even without looking. “Its nothing.” Mel pretend to read her economics textbook again. She heard Madre shuffle her papers and put them to the side. “Look at me Melody, I know what that look means.” Against every fiber of her being, Mel looked up, lovesickness practically pouring from her eyes. She hated her mother’s intuition. “Ma, how do you talk to a boy?” She asked. Mel knew just how this would go. Her mother sighed. “You don’t mija, get a cat instead, pretty much the same thing. They’re cute at first, smell, and eat all the time. But a pet won’t leave you to raise a daughter alone.” Mel frowned, she had heard that line a million times before. “Tiá Calista has ten cats and she’s still miserable. Her house reeks.” Mel said. “Don’t do it Melody. The Valdez women have learned--the hard way--that love is far more trouble than its worth. Your house still smells when you get married although Calista could get an air freshener or two.” “But--” “Is it that boy at the train stop?” Madre asked. “No. Yes, but he’s not like other--” “Oh mija, cute boys are worse than ugly ones. Your tió Pablo was alright looking and faked his own death. Your father was the most beautiful man on the island and his hobby was burning old malls.” Mel’s mother snarled, the anger flooding back to her. “Madré.” Mel complained. If she didn’t stop this now her mother would slip into Spanish and say things that would turn Mel’s ears red. Her mother shook her head “Lo siento, your father is just a colossal--anyways. No boys, never boys. Love and the Valdez women do not mix.” Melody felt even worse and as disappointed as she may have been, she could not argue with her mother. Her father was a decently handsome man and an arsonist. If her and someone as gorgeous as Jack ever got together he would come out as a terrorist or the leader of some massive cartel. Mel became resolute in ignoring Jack’s kind morning nods or the way he sang to himself and she especially had to look away when he came to school in his soccer uniform. Those short shorts and tight jersey made her swoon so hard she was tempted to jump off the platform to hide her cherry colored cheeks. They would never work out anyways. Jack was popular, star defender of the soccer team, and able to answer every question in class with ease. Mel was an introverted girl who learned to speak English well after her peers did, and just thinking about speaking up in class transported her back to the days of being embarrassed by classmates that made fun of her accent, smelly foreign food, and Dora light up shoes. Mel learned how to ditch the accent, brought more American food for lunch, and learned to dress well, but her timid nature remained. She was more comfortable in the shadows of obscurity rather than the limelight that would come with being the girlfriend of Jack Brunson, leader of an infamous and dangerous drug cartel. It was stupid to think she could talk to him and he would give her more than a cursory good morning nod. So the days came and went. Mel would arrive every morning, silent as ever despite being the only two lifeforms at the platform and donning her bulletproof “don’t talk to me” uniform. Senior year arrived, the college applications were filled out, and Melody’s mother was proud that her daughter chose to follow in her footsteps and study pre-law a few hours away in the city. Jack was awarded a soccer scholarship out of state and Mel wasn’t surprised. She didn’t find out from Jack of course, she just couldn’t help herself from following all the gossip that pertained to him and his muscular calves. May approached and soon this game of avoiding her crush at the train station would come to an end. Mel could drown herself in classwork, get herself a pleasant non--smelly cat, and find fulfilment in a career as a lawyer. She had avoided the curse of love, dancing around it for years only to come out victorious in the end. Melody would be the one Valdez woman never burned by such evil. That was until she broke her ankle, was tossed into a cast, and expected to carry a massive foam board onto the train while using crutches. “Are you sure mija? I can go in late and drive you all the way. I’m always early, they won’t care this one time.” Madre asked as she dropped Melody off at the platform. Mel rolled her eyes. Her mother was always late. “No, its fine. Lucy always gets on at the stop after mine. She’ll help.” “Alright. Just checking.“ It was unbelievably hot and walking with crutches and holding a massive foam board and trying to avoid the boy she was in love with was stupid. She should have taken her mother up on her offer, but Mel would live, although navigating the stairs was an olympic feat. Jack arrived later than usual, gave her his cursory nod and a quizzical look at her cast and project, but went back to his humming. The train sounded down the hill, motoring along with its familiar squeak and squeals and just as Mel gathered her things the world fell apart. Her crutches slipped from beneath her, her project slid across the platform, and her AirPods popped out as she tumbled. The cement platform bit into her legs, her already broken ankle throbbed with pain, and Mel’s hands were raw from her fall. “Are you okay?” Jack gathered her board and was at her side, holding her things. It would be a dream to be helped by the most handsome boy on the planet, but Mel was filled with dread. She looked like a toddling mess in front of Jack and he was looking directly into her eyes. And oh, what gorgeous eyes they were. “Mhmm.” Mel mumbled. Idiot! She couldn’t even use an actual word in the English dictionary. Stupid. “I can carry your stuff for you. Looks like you’ve got a lot going on.” Jack smiled and then did a small chuckle. His laugh sweetened the air, it brightened the sun, the clouds even seemed to melt away. Mel’s heart was ready to eject itself from her chest. The Valdez women were to avoid love and cute boys, like oil did water or models did a bad hair day. “Here, let me help you.” Jack’s hands were on hers, helping her up. They were soft and yet so strong. She made another unintelligent sound and Jack laughed. Mel was an idiot. She got an A in advanced placement language arts and literature. She loved to write and read so why was English deserting her now? Heck, Spanish would be better than sounding like Sméagol. “Don’t want to be late.” Jack said. He handed her the crutches, shouldered her bag and project and even kicked a stray flyer out of her way. The train was slowing down. “Its Melody right?” Jack asked. “Yes. You’re Jack.” Mel was glad she rediscovered her voice, but she could have said something cooler than stating the obvious. “Yeah that’s me. I remember that time in debate where you totally owned Larissa. It was pretty epic.” He laughed again, as the doors opened. “You’ve been on the soccer team and took them to state three years in a row.” Mel said, forcing her face to not flush. Jack rubbed the back of his head, teen heartthrob style and chuckled. “I didn’t really have anything to do with that. Conner is the real M.V.P.” Smart, athletic, and humble. He must have been the leader of the illuminati or plotting to bomb the UN. Mel was convinced. She sat down on the train and about fainted realizing that Jack chose to sit next to her. Her chest was about ready to tear itself apart. The conversation lasted all the way to school and couldn’t have gone any better, but Mel wondered when it would end. Jack would move on with his life and one day tell the story to his children about how he helped this klutz wearing crutches in high school. But the conversation didn’t stop: not after graduation, not after the first year of college, not even after years of dating when he told her he had something big to tell her. Turns out he wasn’t the leader of Al Qaeda or part of a shadow government. Jack just had a ring and an important question to ask her. Sometimes even for those with the worst luck, worst tíos, and worst padres, the dice could roll just right.