My Best Friend's Sister Came Back from Miami

I’ve known Diego since elementary school. We grew up together, went through the same high school, and when we left school we almost always ended up at his father’s restaurant, eating Cuban sandwiches standing at the counter. That afternoon, his dad handed us the car keys and an errand: we had to go to the airport to pick up Camila, Diego’s sister, who was coming back from Miami after a year studying there.

—Your sister? —I asked while chewing—. I don’t remember her.

—She was a skinny kid when she left —Diego said with a shrug—. You’ll see she isn’t anymore.

I didn’t think much of it. We ate quickly, stopped by his house to drop off some things, and drove to the airport with the windows down, excited because vacation had just started. I was thinking about anything but who was coming off that flight.

And then I saw her.

A brunette with coppery skin, not very tall but above average, wearing a floral blouse that was very much in style back then and a skin-tight pair of shorts that outlined her legs and everything else. She had a ribbon in her hair and a smile that seemed to know everything. When Diego introduced her to me, we hugged hello and stayed holding each other’s hands for a couple of seconds too long. Just long enough for me to notice she wasn’t wearing a bra, and for her to notice that I had noticed.

—So you’re the famous Diego Two —she said, laughing—. My brother talks about you like you’re family.

—Something like that —I answered, and couldn’t think of anything smarter.

We loaded her luggage, which was ridiculous.

—What have you got in here, Camila, half of Florida? —Diego complained as he stuffed a suitcase into the trunk.

—Just a few little things, don’t be dramatic.

I was going to get in the back, but she took me by the arm.

—Don’t even think about it. Come sit in front, so we can talk.

When she opened the door and leaned in to get settled, I ended up behind her for a moment, too close. I felt her hips brush against me and glanced sideways at Diego, but he was busy with his seat belt. Camila laughed under her breath and finished getting in as if nothing had happened.

The drive back was a silly, delicious conversation: school, the scene, places I had seen on a field trip the previous May. She leaned toward the seat back to hear me, and every time she did I lost the thread of what I was saying.

—I think my friend likes you —Diego blurted out, looking at me in the rearview mirror with a grin.

I felt myself blush. Camila stretched out her arm and stroked my forearm with two fingers.

—Don’t overwhelm him —she said—. Tell me, where did you go? And don’t listen to him.

***

We got to the apartment and carried the suitcases to her room while she went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to tell Diego in a low voice to excuse me if I had stared at his sister too much. The unwritten code back then was clear: with your friends’ sisters, nothing.

—Relax, man —he said, bumping fists with me—. Camila always turned heads. Not your fault.

She came out of the bathroom, unpacked for a while, and came back with a gift for each of us. She gave Diego something wrapped up; to me she handed a leather belt with a buckle that said “peace and love.”

—I hope you like it —she said.

—A lot. What a thoughtful gift. —I took off my old belt right there and put hers on, then kissed her hand to thank her.

She laughed, grabbed my shirt collar, and gave me a short kiss on the lips.

—I like you. Gallant but shy —she said, and burst out laughing.

—Now you’re the embarrassed one, little sister —Diego teased her.

We ate what was left of the sandwiches, talked about communes and free love, about things she had experienced there that seemed to me like they were from another planet. When her mom arrived, I said goodbye and went home with the belt on and my head somewhere else.

***

A week went by. I went to Acapulco for a few days with some relatives, and when I got back Diego called to invite me on a trip: he wanted to take Camila to see the ruins of an old convent in the mountains, the ones deep in the forest, and Renata, his girlfriend, would be coming too. I said yes without thinking.

They picked me up early. Diego got out so I could sit in the back next to Camila. I greeted Renata with a compliment and gave Camila a kiss on the cheek, but leaning in to her ear I said:

—You’re a thousand times hotter.

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh.

—Wow, Mateo’s feeling very gallant today —Renata remarked.

—Careful, Camila —Diego said from the wheel—. Give him a hand and he’ll take the whole arm.

—Will he? —she replied, and took my hand on the seat, without her brother seeing.

We had enchiladas for breakfast at a roadside stand and walked to the convent. In a lower area, where the ground was damp and slippery, Camila lost her balance and I caught her by the waist before she fell. After that she walked in front of me, leaning on my shoulders, and when we came out into the light she turned around and hugged me.

It wasn’t a thank-you hug. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on the lips, pressing her whole body against mine, her breasts flattened against my chest and her hips against mine. Enough for me to react, and for her to feel it and smile without pulling away.

***

Later, the group went down to a river running between the trees. We bought pork rinds, avocados, and sodas at the town market, and set up an improvised camp on the bank. I tied the bottles together with a rope and left them in the cold water to chill while the girls prepared some tacos.

Camila came over and put her hand in the current.

—It’s freezing —she said—. Have you ever swum in a river?

—Several times. But you have to be careful, currents can be deceptive. —I watched her take off her sneakers and dip her feet in—. You look beautiful like that.

—You’re exaggerating.

—I’m serious.

I leaned in and kissed her. She responded at once, tugging my collar until I was over her on the grass. My hands ran along her sides, her hips, her legs, which she spread slightly to let me settle between them. But Renata called us to eat and we had to pull apart like two teenagers caught red-handed.

After we ate, Diego and Renata disappeared for a good while among the trees. Camila and I gathered everything up and sat talking, though neither of us really felt like talking.

—They’re taking a while —I said.

—They must be off somewhere, doing little things —she replied, laughing.

I stroked her hand and we started kissing again. This time I laid her carefully down in the grass, my body pressing down on hers. I slid my hand up to her breasts over her blouse, feeling her nipples hardening, and dared to unbutton a couple of buttons.

—No, wait —she murmured when I tried to pull down the zipper of her shorts, putting her hand over mine—. My brother might come back.

I didn’t insist on the zipper. Instead, I slid my hand down the loose leg of her shorts, found the edge of her underwear, and moved it aside. She sighed when my fingers brushed her. Her breathing quickened, she hugged me tight and hid her face in my neck while I touched her slowly, with more and more rhythm.

—Don’t stop —she whispered.

I didn’t stop. Her gasps grew, she tried to close her legs, and in the end she went rigid against me with a muffled moan, her hand gripping my wrist.

—Okay, okay —she said, breathless, laughing and covering her face—. Stop.

I kissed her. Her lips were cold and her chest rose and fell rapidly. We heard footsteps in the undergrowth and she sat up abruptly, buttoning her blouse, and by the time Diego and Renata appeared with their arms around each other’s waists we were already sitting there talking about anything.

***

Two days later I called Diego’s house. Camila answered.

—He went out with my dad —she said—. And my mom’s out with her friends. I’m alone and incredibly bored.

—If you want, I can keep you company.

—Okay. I’ll wait for you here, I’m going to the store in the meantime.

I took my bicycle and pedaled to her house sweating. She was waiting at the door in a wide miniskirt, sandals without socks, and a white blouse that let her pink bra show through. We greeted each other with a kiss, she took my hand and brought me inside.

—Soda? You’re soaking wet.

—Please.

While she poured two glasses and put some chips on the coffee table, I freshened up a bit in the bathroom. When I came out, I kept looking at her.

—You’re gorgeous —I told her, and couldn’t help looking down at her brown legs, bare almost up to the thigh.

She brought her knees together and crossed her legs, laughing at my boldness. I sat next to her, put my hand on her thigh, and kissed her before settling in. We talked for a while about her friends, about movies, about silly things, but I could barely follow the conversation.

—Why are you staring at me so much? —she asked with an innocent face—. You’re going to wear me out. Do I look bad?

—On the contrary. I like you way too much, Camila.

I leaned in, brushed my face along her neck, told her she smelled amazing, and kissed her again. This time she parted her lips and, without me asking, opened her legs a little to let my hand go higher. I felt the wet lace of her underwear under my fingers. My body reacted at once; I pressed her against the back of the sofa and we devoured each other with kisses.

I moved the tight fabric aside and touched her until she slid toward the edge of the sofa, seeking more contact. I kissed her neck, lowered the straps of her blouse with my teeth and my free hand, and unfastened her bra to free her breasts and catch one nipple between my lips. She finished taking it off, panting, propped against the backrest.

I kept going downward. She lifted her hips so I could hike up her skirt and pull off her underwear completely. I used my tongue slowly, attentively, listening to every one of her sighs, alternating between licking her and touching her with my fingers. She writhed with one hand on my head, setting the pace, until her orgasm shook her whole body, her legs trembling over my shoulders.

—Okay, okay, Teo —she said, her voice broken—. I’m very sensitive now.

I sat up and kissed her. I was already letting my pants fall when she stopped me with a hand on my stomach.

—Wait. Let’s go to my room.

***

We crossed the hallway half-naked, she clinging to me, me with my hands on her hips. She pulled back the covers, lay down on her back, and stretched her arms toward me. I positioned myself between her open legs and entered her slowly, enjoying how tight and warm she felt, while I kissed her and she threw her head back.

I started slowly, with a rhythm I gradually sped up, kissing her neck and breasts, my hands on her hips. Camila lifted her pelvis, wrapped her legs around my waist, and, holding me tight, came again, trembling against my body and gasping next to my ear.

I slowed down so she could enjoy it and turned her onto her side without leaving her, one hand on her hip, my lips on her breast. Sweat-soaked, we moved in sync, until she pushed me to lie on my back and climbed on top. She braced her hands on my chest and started riding me, setting her own pace, while I held her hips and guided her.

Our breathing fell into step and quickened together. I let her understand with my eyes that I was about to finish, unable to say a word. She made a few last deep movements before I pulled away and came across the curve of her back. I held her, still breathless, and we stayed still for a moment.

—I couldn’t help myself —I said—. You were squeezing too damn good.

—It doesn’t matter —she replied, laughing as she settled in beside me—. I still preferred feeling you like that.

We rested for a while, but neither of us wanted to waste the afternoon. We started again, slowly, in front of the mirror on her dresser, glancing at each other and smiling like accomplices, until pleasure caught up with us again and I ended up releasing myself completely, her hugging me as I collapsed onto her body.

***

We went to shower in her parents’ bathroom, soaping each other up, laughing about what had just happened. When I came out to the living room for my clothes, I found her underwear on the sofa and, without thinking too much about it, slipped it into my pocket as a keepsake.

—So what do we do about Diego now? —I asked, buckling the belt she herself had given me.

—Nothing —she said, combing her hair in front of the mirror—. This is just ours.

I said goodbye with a long kiss and pedaled back home with a smile that didn’t leave my face all night. Many years have passed. Diego is still my best friend and he never knew anything. It’s the only confession I still keep whole, and the only one I wouldn’t change for anything, if I could.