I looked up at Troy, feeling my brow arch in curiosity. “Team accountant?”
“Oh yeah, you workin’ for the best,” he told me.
I opened my mouth—
“Just as soon as she graduates college and aces her accounting programs. Hell, you’re right, why stop at Sherry’s firm when she can go all the way to the top? Buy us a nice retirement home, even.”
They were laughing, and I was confused about where I’d said I wanted to do any of that.
“What if I just want to be small-time?” I questioned.
My father frowned, looking at me funny. “What if Troy decides to waste his talent? How much sense does that make, Rey? We don’t believe in limits in this house—there is no ceiling for you.”
“Absolutely,” Troy was quick to agree.
Now they both were speaking for me.
Almost as if my opinion didn’t count.
My gaze fell upon Avery and how he’d abandoned the movie to scour something on his phone.
I envied him his freedom of choice. Our father was pushy, but he never seemed to tell Avery what to do for a career.
“Read anything good, Ave?” I asked my younger brother.
He lifted his head from his phone and squinted at me. “I’m binging on Bleach right now.”
Out of context, it sounded like he was chugging chlorine. I blinked, trying to connect with him. “I should get into that.”
Avery’s expression grew suspicious. “It’s actually—”
“A waste of time,” my father cut in. “What I tell you about getting out more? You conveniently missed the football tryouts again this year.”
My mother drove her elbow into his side. “Cliff, stop, leave that boy alone and let him enjoy his reading.”
My father appeared innocent as he held his hands up. “What? Why can’t he read and play a sport?”
“Colleges do like extracurricular activities, ma’am.” Troy tried to reason with my mother.
I bit my tongue to keep from speaking up about the fact that I wasn’t active in sports at school. Outside of the center, I didn’t do extracurricular activities.
My younger brother seemed to shrink within himself, and I felt guilty for putting him on the spot. I knew how he felt. I didn’t want to let my parents down either, to do or say anything that would disappoint them.
I envied my mother’s passion and zeal, her drive to seek change and help mold those who society would deem lost. The effortless way she ran the community center. Sure, I had my moments of enjoying my time at the center, but it wasn’t my thing. Just like accounting. Chewing on my lip, I found myself back at square one as always: What was my thing?
“How many hours does Aunt Sherry work at her firm? Is she able to control her own schedule?” I blurted out, drawing the focus back to me.
At once, my father eased up. “Sherry works full-time, but I know her schedule’s flexible. You gotta call her, Rey, don’t let her fill in that internship before you do.”
He started talking more about Aunt Sherry and accounting, with Troy chiming in with support.
Avery was safe, back in his game.
While my family and boyfriend were busy planning my future, I was lost in my own head, desperately trying to pin down who I was.
Guillermo
I didn’t get much sleep Sunday night.
Instead of tossing and turning, I lay back staring at the ceiling, consumed with what was.
By morning I’d managed to amass a total of five hours of sleep—not bad, but not enough to make me want to pull myself from bed and prepare for my first day at Arlington High.
Yesenia was in the bathroom already when I made my way into the hall. She was humming happily along as she brushed her teeth. She’d be an eighth grader at Allendale Middle School, and there wasn’t as much pressure on her as there was on me.
She caught me standing in the doorway, a gleam in her eyes as she smiled up at me. It slowly died as her brows furrowed. “Pasa algo?”
I shook my head. “No, no pasa nada.”
Yesenia wasn’t convinced; she came and squeezed my arm gently before giving me a hug. “Cheer up, Memo, this is a fresh start. Be optimistic, okay?”
For her, I’d do anything.
So I hugged her back and went into the bathroom to start my day.
Hair back or down? I briefly pondered. My father hated my hair, but I felt a bit insecure with this new and improved image I was going for. After raking a hand through it a few times, I decided to pull it all back into a bun.
A ringing sound made me leave the bathroom to grab my cell phone off my nightstand. I recognized my uncle’s number flashing across the screen. It had been too long since I’d spoken to him, so I picked up right away. “Hey!”
“Is for horses,” he responded. Wind in the background let me know he was more than likely in the car taking my cousins Melisa and Carlos to school.
I deadpanned. “Ha ha.”
“First day. Nervous?” Tío Mateo asked me.
Being the new kid? “Not too much. Thanks for the car—I meant to call you, I’ve just been busy.”
He hummed. “Yeah, workin’ for the community, you likin’ that?”
“Oh yeah, thinkin’ about a permanent stay.”
“Memo.” His stern tone said he wasn’t about to be my friend in this situation. Tío Mateo was never the strict type, but he could get on me when he needed to. I hated that he lived in Columbus now. “I won’t be on here long to hold you up, but I wanted to hear from you. It’s your first day—stay out of trouble and don’t fuck this up. José moved mountains for you, and you better be grateful.”
The weight and pressure of all the expectations grounded me in place. “I know. I have no intention of fuckin’ this up.”
“Language!” Even as he said it, I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Thanks, though, for callin’, for reachin’ out. I needed this,” I told him.
“Always, you’re my favorite nephew.”
“I’m your only nephew.”
“Semantics.” Tío Mateo chuckled. “Have a good day. Stay up.” He disconnected.
Staring at the phone in my hand, I thought of her.
The source of all my troubles.
In the beginning, my parents had debated getting me another cell phone. In the end, they had, with a new number. Not that I hadn’t memorized Tynesha’s. The phone was a test, to see if I’d give in and break the rules. Would I text her? Call her? Reach out in some way?
Images of the past haunted me, and I knew I wouldn’t do anything like that. The brutal sting of betrayal had me squeezing the device tight in my hand.
She’d made her choice, as I had made mine.
I shoved my cell into my pocket. It wasn’t constructive to blame her.
It was time to start school and get back to normal. New school, new start, possibly a new Guillermo. I didn’t too much like the idea of changing who I was, but for my parents’, and the court’s, sake I would. No more mouthing off, no more fighting, and definitely no more trouble with girls.
One of the first things my therapist had asked me to do was to set a goal for myself. My first goal was to make new friends in this move. To seek out better association. After feeling isolated at home, I was ready to meet new people and find acceptance.
I made my way down to the kitchen, hoping for a quick bite of whatever it was my parents had made.
I was just rounding the corner off the kitchen when I heard my parents speaking in the dining room.
“I just want this to be our last stop, José,” my mother was whispering. “He’s been through a lot, and I’m not sure I can handle much more.”
My father wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “Ese chico siempre estuvo mal.”
It wouldn’t be easy, but I would endure.
&n
bsp; Instead of joining my parents, I grabbed a fruit smoothie from the fridge before making my way outside.
Yesi wanted me to be optimistic, and one thing I had learned from counseling was that to be positive, you couldn’t surround yourself with the negative. Giving my parents space was good for all of us.
I’d left my car out front when I’d gotten home yesterday. On my walk down our driveway, I spotted a kid around my age two houses down. He was standing by the side of his house, smoking a cigarette and savoring it as if it were his last meal.
Not likely, given his athletic build.
The boy lifted his gaze and caught me watching him. He tipped his head toward me in acknowledgment as he released a stream of smoke.
I nodded back.
He swept a hand through his dark, thick hair, styled in a faux hawk fade. Seeing his olive complexion and features, I felt a sense of kinship, reveling in the fact that we and the Londons weren’t the only families of color in the neighborhood.
“New?” the boy shouted my way.
My gaze flicked toward my house. “Yeah.”
He scanned me over. “You play soccer?”
A bunch of my cousins lived for the sport, but I was never into it. I enjoyed the pastime of just listening to music.
“No,” I told him.
“You should,” he continued. “You look like a guy who could keep up.”
Despite my disinterest, I had played soccer with my family before. But with my new stint in community service, I doubted I’d have time to revive my career. Still, I recalled my goal to make friends.
“I could hang,” I said.
A corner of his mouth curled up. “You going to Arlington?”
“Yeah.”
“Our soccer’s the shit.”
I wasn’t ready to commit to anything, even though me playing soccer would get some sort of positive vibe from my father. He and Tío Mateo loved soccer. My tía Guadelupe, too.
“Raviv! You better not be out there smoking, mister!” a woman’s voice screamed from inside the boy’s house. Seconds later, a woman emerged onto their front porch, sweeping the area for her son.
Raviv pressed himself against the siding of the house, smirking at me. He raised a hand and pressed his finger to his lips as he stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe. His mother huffed and went back inside.
I shrugged. It wasn’t my business anyway.
“Need a ride?” I offered, since we were going to the same place.
Raviv peered around the corner of his house to his front porch and then looked back to me. “Nah, not today, my mom’s already on that, but thanks.”
It was time to get a move on, as I had to get to Arlington High early and meet with the guidance counselor about my schedule. School had been in session since after Labor Day, which was only four days, so thankfully there wouldn’t be too much to catch up on.
I was one of the early birds and had to be buzzed in by the main office. The guidance counselor was waiting for me at the junior office door. She was a tall White woman with brunette hair and green eyes, and she had a friendly smile on her face. She read as the nice type, which was far better than my last guidance counselor, who had dubbed certain students as problems the instant they entered her door. Then again, as many times as I’d sat in front of her, I couldn’t blame her.
“You must be Guillermo. I’m Mrs. Greer.” The counselor beamed even bigger, sticking her hand out to shake mine. “So nice to have you with us.”
We headed into her private office, passing an office worker along the way. I took the black plastic chair in front of her desk as she occupied the plush seat behind it.
She grabbed a folder and opened it up. Here we go.
“I read your file. It’s quite colorful. Ten suspensions and countless detentions all in one year, Guillermo?” She looked concerned, letting me know a possible lecture was coming.
“It was quite a year,” I said.
Mrs. Greer shook her head. “And quite a cry for help.”
Please tell me she’s not about to shrink me.
“This is my second chance. I intend to use it to its fullest.” I spoke up to shut her down. “No more mistakes.”
I already had to answer to my parents and to Harvey, not to mention my therapist and Mrs. London—I didn’t have the endurance to face this shit at school, too.
“Now, let’s just relax, you’re only four days behind, not a big deal.” Mrs. Greer spoke in a soothing tone. It was easy to imagine that any kid would feel comfortable coming to her; she was friendly, gentle, assertive, but mostly, happy. “What electives were you looking into taking at your old school in Rowling?”
I tried to think and came up empty. It had all been a blur. During the career carnival my sophomore year, I’d cut the day to hang out in Mouse’s basement with the other guys. “To be honest, I don’t remember having an idea.”
Mrs. Greer quirked a dark brow, her face saying what her voice wouldn’t. “Let’s run down some ideas and see what strikes you, okay?”
She listed the major options: accounting, hospitality, cosmetology, animal care and management, auto body, web design—
“Web design,” I interrupted. Did I care about the course? No, but nothing else she listed grabbed me, and from what I knew of the other options, it was the most interesting of my choices.
We continued putting together my schedule, with me agreeing to certain classes that sounded interesting. Glancing around her office, I found that she was married to a Black man and had a daughter. Among the usual clutter of academic flyers and posters, she had awards and certificates hung up on her walls as well. There were senior photos on her bulletin board, and many notes of love and appreciation from students. She seemed more promising than my last counselor for sure.
“Foreign language?” Mrs. Greer asked, louder than needed, dragging me from my thoughts.
“What?”
“I said would you be interested in taking a foreign language?” she repeated.
I’d taken two years of Spanish, what more did I need? “I gotta take more?”
“If you plan on going to college, you’ll need three years, and since you’re more than likely going to college, let’s set you up.”
She said this with finality, as if there was no disputing it.
Great.
“I’ll take Spanish III.”
She was back on her computer, silent for a moment.
“Okay, your schedule’s good to go.” Mrs. Greer leaned over, facing her open office door. “Hey, Avery?”
A student appeared in the doorway and gave Mrs. Greer his attention.
“Guillermo’s new here, would you mind showing him around before school begins?” She glanced at her wristwatch, noting we had about fifteen minutes before the bell rang and the other students entered the building.
“Sure thing.”
I stood up and accepted all the paperwork, student planner, and my schedule from her. “Thanks.”
“Have a nice day, Guillermo. Remember, this is your new start, new you.” There was that big friendly smile again. How could anyone be that happy?
I followed Avery into the hall. He was a little shorter than me, and a little scrawnier, too.
“Can I see your schedule?” he asked, holding his hand out.
I handed it to him, taking a moment to look around the hallway while he read it over. Judging from the Class Of photos on the walls, the school was predominantly Black, with some other ethnic groups and a sprinkle of White kids here and there. My old school had been mostly White. I hadn’t had a lot of friends there. I didn’t relate to the things they talked about and cared about, and the music and shows they tended to watch weren’t my taste either.
Although I’d gone to a White school, I had lived in a predominantly Black neighborhood. Most of my fr
iends had been Black, and of course I got along with the other Latinos, too, as my parents became good friends with their parents. The girls I’d dated had been Latina or Black, like Tynesha.
Seeing this new range of students made me hopeful Arlington High would be a better experience for me.
Avery took the lead, showing me to each of my classes. He was a quiet kid, not making much conversation. It didn’t bother me. I took in the school; it was clean and the floors were all polished and shiny, and the school colors were obviously light green and purple. The lockers on the first floor were purple, the lockers on the second floor were light green, and I wasn’t surprised when the lockers on the third floor turned out to be purple, too. From a few posters, I gathered that the school mascot was a panther, and that the sports teams did well. There was a glass case on the first floor by the main office filled with trophies.
“Nervous?” Avery asked as we paused on the third floor.
“Nah, not really. It’s a good school?”
He shrugged. “It’s my second year. It’s pretty straight. My sister’s a junior, and she’s never really complained. You should be all right.” He pointed to the door on my right marked 306. “That’s where you have chemistry with Mrs. Renner.” He glanced back at me, an odd smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, that oughta be good for you today.”
I didn’t understand. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” Avery checked the clock that hung on the wall a few lockers down. “The bell’s going to ring, better get you to homeroom.”
He took me back to the second floor and stopped in front of a door marked 212. “If you have any trouble, Mrs. Greer is always there to help.”
Sure.
I thanked him, then faced my homeroom, prepared to start my first day. Who knew what Arlington High had to offer?
* * *
Midday, I bumped into Raviv. He was with a girl I assumed was his girlfriend, a Latina who was no taller than Yesenia. She stood underneath Raviv’s arm, smiling up at him like she was in a daze. He was looking down at her as if he could just eat her up.
The honeymoon phase was all bliss when you were in it, but annoying when you were watching it.
The Right Side of Reckless Page 6
