It's a hot day, so Jackie and I are dining at a restaurant in Whittier for Pupusas and Agua Frescas. Masa Treats is a Salvadorian restaurant famous for its pupusas; they are small, round, sealed tortillas made of soft corn dough that's slightly grilled.

My mother made them for me a lot growing up because they were my father's favourite; my father, Edmund Orrala-Castellon, was a Salvadorean raised in PR. My grandfather adopted him when he was a child; his birth parents were grandpa's friends that had died when Papá was three months old. He was a single father but had a whole family that supported him. When Papá grew older, he met Mamá; they were school friends.

Mamá had said that he confessed first when they were eighteen. She was about to go off to college and leave him behind to work in his father and grandfather's repair shop. She said that when the news of her leaving for the states for school hit him, he realised that not telling her would've been his biggest regret. Little did he know Mamá felt the same; she just didn't know how to express it. They married before she left, young love birds they were. The decision was decided the summer before she had to go.

No one denied them their happiness, so in The San Antonio Abad Church in Guánica, they married.

I barely remember Papá because he passed away when I was young, and Mamá did her best to keep his memory alive, which is why I appreciated when she shipped Pelt Patty from PR.

Echo de menos a Papá, mucho (I miss Dad so much).

Isn't it weird to miss someone you barely remember? I was five when I came to California, so my memories of Papá are blurry fragmented images. Mamá says he was larger than life.

Papá was an F1 racer. His love for cars came from working in his father and grandfather's auto repair shop. Mamá gave me videos of his glory days behind the wheel; he was a natural-born racer that loved what he did. So, it's ironic that's how he died; into the world with a bang and out of this world with a bang.

There's a video of his crash in Spain that Mamá thinks I don't know about, but I've seen it. It was a horrific day, and it's because of speed he lost his life. Despite how he passed, I have no resentment towards racing, the sport or fast driving. His death doesn't outweigh his life, and if anything, his life has taught me not to take it for granted. He lived for his family and his passions, and that is the greatest thing anyone can ever succeed in doing.

I'm usually not this nostalgic, but somehow since graduating, I've wanted to feel closer to him, and with Mamá in Bora Bora, I thought I'd find a decent pupusas restaurant in LA; I could make it but not as good as Mamá.

"If I can give an inch, maybe they can go a mile," I say to Jackie.

They dip a piece of jalapeno and cheese pupusas in a side of salsa.

"So, you're playing matchmaker?"

I smirk, wiping away a smidge of salsa from the corner of Jackie's mouth with my thumb.

"Luena wants to rush things instead of pacing, and Damìan...will come around eventually. He loves her but doesn't know it yet."

"How can you be so sure? He just got out of a breakup."

"True. But I know that he once had a crush on Luena, and he doesn't know I know, and...maybe he can somehow reawaken those feelings; with my help, of course."

"Wait...does she even know that?"

"Nope. Not a clue. It's pretty interesting how their feelings passed each other. Which is why I'm going to use that to my advantage."

Jackie arches an eyebrow at me, "and you never told her?"

"I didn't want to give her hope if it didn't work out."

"Good call," they say sarcastically, "don't give your friend an advantage at love." Jackie takes a sip of her agua frescas (theirs is a watermelon blend).

I squint amusingly at the comment. "Despite your sarcastic comment, I have a plan that will make them fall for each other—"

"Like a friend trap."

I smile, "yes, a friend trap, but they're going to come to it themselves."

Jackie tilts their head bemusingly.

I elaborate, "I'm setting them up without them knowing."

They finally realise what I mean and nod in agreement.

"But how are you going to do that in three weeks? We're leaving for Phuket after the fourth of July, and you made Luena promise not to do anything too soon."

"I only plan to preset the stage. The rest...is up to them."

"And if it doesn't work out? What then?"

"We'll have to cross that road if we come to it. But I have the utmost confidence all things will work out the way they should."

Damìan, Luena and I have entangled lives, and for the longest time, I've always understood that they have a special bond beyond friendship.

If there is a picture of soulmates in the dictionary, their faces would be next to the word; they get each other in ways no one else has gotten them, and I believe they'll see how truly special and rare their connection is.

I'm rooting for them, and if I can somehow make that happen, I'll do my best to make it so.