Failed Bechdel Test
Torres felt Bucky's stare on him. Sometimes, the white man would turn to look at Sam arguing with Sarah but his sad puppy eyes would always come back to his - and Joaquín felt terrible.
"I'm going to get the engine started and then you'll see!"
Sam marched into the cabin under the scrutiny of three pair of eyes. Sarah crossed her arms. Bucky scooted closer to them. Though he stood still, he was gently moving along with the boat's movements.
"You sure you really don't wanna come?" he asked his friend once more.
Torres repressed a dolorous sigh.
"You know I chose the Air Force for a reason," he tried to joke - but it felt flat.
The young man was dying to join Bucky, Bucky was dying for him to join but it was. Not possible. In fact, Joaquín would die of shame if Bucky (or the Wilsons, for that matter) ever learned he barely knew how to swim. Not to mention, the sight of Bucky going up and down, right to left, slowly, almost imperceptibly, was enough to make him sea sick.
Suddenly, the engine inside the belly of the boat jumped into activity. Sarah couldn't hide her surprise, Sam let out a roar of victory and Joaquín and Bucky knew their time was up. They waved at each other as the Paul and Darlene left the dock of Delacroix. Joaquín would have stayed on that concrete dock, waiting for the return of his crush - or, more prosaically, waiting until he was out of sight - but Sarah put her hand on his shoulder and gently stroke it.
"Come on. I'll say we use this time to make dinner. They'll come back more hungry than a pack of wolves during winter. It's the law of the sea."
Torres followed the (technically elder) sibling to her own house as they had planned to have dinner all together this evening. With AJ and Cass being at school, the house was silent. They made room in the kitchen and around, retrieved the food bought the day before and on the very morning and soon enough, busied themselves with the cooking. While Sarah prepared the gambas, Joaquín made a dough with maize floor. Their conversation was slow as both of them focused primarily on their tasks.
"I really hope the boat won't break down," said Sarah.
Joaquín nodded and huffed as he forced the dough into a ball.
"Me too."
Sarah grabbed another prawn and settled it on the wooden board, the head on the right side, rose her knife and cut it out in one swift and quick movement. Then her nails dug inside the sea animal to separate its flesh from its pinky shell.
"So, um, you and Bucky, right?"
Torres gasped - out of surprise and (very much) guiltiness. His cheeks were hotter than the sun, all of sudden.
"What? Nah!"
His own brown fingers disappeared into the beige dough as he knead it. Somehow, it was too late - his mind could only come up with the image of Bucky in his shorter outfit (Sam was still, objectively, hotter, but this short sleeved shirt felt like a crime nonetheless). He really wished Bucky wasn't on that damn boat. He was (almost) sure that if he had asked, Bucky would have stayed. But it wouldn't have been fair for Sam. And the curly head had noticed how his crush looked at Captain America.
That last thought dampened his mood a little.
"Even if I was into him, which I'm not, he's got eyes for Cap only."
"That's something I'm not so certain about. Besides, it's not like it would be a reciprocate feeling anyway."
His heart started beating way too fast when he heard that reply and his cheeks heated again.
"What do you mean?" he asked, out of breath, as he has been running all the way to New Orleans and back.
Sarah taped the board against the bin and used her knife to get rid of any bit left of the gambas.
"I mean you should talk to him," she said and by her tone Torres knew he wouldn't get anything more.
*
As some point, as the bread was baking and rising in the oven and they were taking turns to stir up the mayonnaise, Joaquín's phone rang up.
"That's mine!" he shouted out of reflex.
He quickly passed the bowl over to Sarah, wiped his hands on his short before running to his phone - for safety reason, he had put it outside of their cooking range.
It was Bucky - obviously.
As he put his finger on the screen, he was struck by an horrible doubt; why would Bucky call him? In a few hours, even less, he and Sam would tell them all about their little trip out in the sea. Had something happened?
He answered the call on the fifth ringing, nearly too late.
"Hey! Everything's OK?"
*
"Can you help me move the table outside?"
"Yes, of course."
Joaquín went back inside. They had opened the floor to ceiling windows to get (hopefully) some air inside and get the table out on the gallery by the same path. Just like Joaquín's first evening in Delacroix. The table was lighter than he thought. They were nonetheless dying of heat.
"I hope the rain will start soon," said Sarah looking at the horizon as to spot the expected clouds.
"Does it rain every day?" Joaquín asked.
He had noticed that fact - and that Sam somehow seemed to know exactly when it was about to rain and consequently, when to ask them to open the strategic windows.
"In this season, it's quite the norm," nodded the widow. "We would die without it."
Yeah, no kidding. They went inside briefly to grab the tablecloth and the plates when Joaquín's phone rang again. It was a text from Sam.
SAM
The engine stopped
Bucky called the coast guards but we might be a bit late
He didn't have time to speak that he heard Sarah's voice.
"What happened?"
He simply re-read the texts out loud. She didn't say a word but the look and the head tilt she made were more than enough.
*
They waited for them at the docks, accompanied by AJ and Cass who had finished school for two hours. The sun was setting down when the boat of the coast guards appeared, followed by the sight of the Paul and Darlene towed by the prow. The guards helped to anchor the boat to its designated place and the two Avengers jumped down on the concrete ground.
"We had so much fun!" shouted Sam enthusiastically.
Joaquín eyed Bucky. He was carrying the bag they had brought with them and his left arm was missing. They were both damp, especially the brunet whose hair was longer and dripping all over his neck. Joaquín felt the need to cuddle his face in a tower.
"Well, someone doesn't seem to," piped Sarah glancing at Bucky too.
"It was a nightmare," the white man said soberly.
Sam made a sound so offended and so obviously fake that it was too much for Bucky not to burst out laughing. They went home, Joaquín got to dry Bucky's hair and they ate their dinner cold - luckily, that was exactly what Sarah was aiming for with her corn toasts and her homemade mayonnaise.