The Right Side of Reckless

by Whitney D. Grandison

* * *

  Wednesday in homeroom, I forced interest in catching up on my homework. Staying away and ignoring Regan was my best option, I told myself.

  “I’m free this afternoon, what are you doing later?” I asked Jenaya as we sat at lunch.

  Avery was lost in some manga, oblivious to those around him.

  Jenaya rested her elbow on the tabletop and pouted. “I think I gotta watch Brooklyn.”

  “That your baby brother?”

  She nodded. “I think he’s going to be the good one. He’s only four, but so far he’s real quiet and tries to be helpful.”

  Even if I hadn’t known her long, I could tell Jenaya didn’t want sympathy or pity. From what I could see, she could hold it down just fine on her own. But there was nothing wrong with a little help every now and then.

  “You can bring him to my place,” I offered. “I’m sure we got some kiddy movies lying around. Hell, one look at this kid and my mom might just snatch him.”

  Jenaya tried to hide her blush, but it made her look that much more cute. “Really?”

  “My mom loves kids. When I was younger and Tío Matt and Tía Jacki had their twins, my mom would spend her days helping out. She never wanted to leave. She’s a sucker for babies mostly, but cute little kids are up her alley, too.”

  Jenaya softened. “You really don’t gotta do that for me, Mo.”

  I pretended to be offended at her making it seem like a chore as I rolled my eyes. “What are friends for? You’d be doing me a favor by hanging out with me.”

  Jenaya didn’t protest as she mouthed a thank-you.

  A tray smacked onto our table as a chair was pulled out and the smell of a hot slice of pizza greeted us. Raviv had actually broken away from his clique and joined us. He sat opposite Jenaya at our square table, with me on his left and Avery on his right.

  “What’s up?” he said, nodding at us all.

  I was sure he knew Avery since they were in the same grade and lived on the same block, but it was more than clear he didn’t know Jenaya. If we were going to be friends, he had to respect her and know what was up.

  “Raviv!” I said with faux enthusiasm. “You remember my good friend Jenaya, don’t you?”

  Jenaya narrowed her eyes and looked from me to Raviv. “Is he one of those idiots who think we’re dating or something?”

  Raviv visibly cringed at being put on the spot. “Actually no, I may have put my foot in my mouth a few times, though. I’m sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you officially. Any friend of Memo’s is a friend of mine.”

  Jenaya pursed her lips and sized him up. “What makes you think I want to be friends with you?”

  He blinked, seeming at a loss for words.

  Jenaya cracked a smile. “I’m kiddin’, just don’t go puttin’ your foot in your mouth anymore and we cool, okay?”

  Raviv bobbed his head as he reached out and pounded his fist against hers.

  “Did you guys have plans or something?” she asked, nodding toward Raviv.

  “You probably just saved me from him invitin’ me to play soccer,” I let her know.

  Raviv made a face, then looked to Jenaya. “The guy is good and should really be honing his skills.”

  “Maybe he should,” she seemed to agree. “He could use the distraction.”

  He grinned. “I think we’re going to be best friends.”

  Now I was rolling my eyes. I did need a distraction, but joining Raviv’s soccer team was not about to be it.

  “Hey.”

  Her voice sent me on alert, and the feel of her presence next to me had me losing my cool.

  Regan was standing beside me. She made sure to greet everyone else before focusing on me.

  The table got quiet, even Avery set his book aside, as they all looked from Regan to me. Then, because he was a pretty decent guy, Raviv cleared his throat and asked Jenaya a question, drawing the attention away from us.

  I stood and walked with Regan into the aisle between our row of tables, out of the others’ hearing. “What’s up?” I kept my distance, trying to be nonchalant.

  Regan was her usual self, smiling up at me all friendly. Oblivious to the effect she had on me. “I was actually going to stop by the hospital after school and see how Simba’s doing. He’s such a cute dog he’ll probably be adopted fast, so I wanted to see him before he’s gone. I was wondering if you’d come with me.”

  In my peripheral vision, I could see Troy sitting at their usual table, staring our way. The annoyed look on his face confirmed all that Mrs. London tried to tell me the day before.

  Regan meant no harm, but distance was safe. “I’ve already got plans with Jenaya.”

  Her smile died, then she frowned a little. “Oh, okay.”

  I didn’t want to come off like a dick, and because I did care about Simba, I loosened up. “But you can come tell me how he’s doing when you get back.” I inched back, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And send him my well wishes.”

  Regan nodded solemnly, offering me a small smile.

  I watched her go back to Troy, and I returned to my table, trying my hardest not to look behind me.

  Regan

  It stormed all Thursday morning through the afternoon, making my shift at the community center long and tedious due to the lack of people stopping by. I didn’t have park duty, because the after-school crowd stayed inside with the staff, who’d put on Wreck-It Ralph. By now, most of the kids had been picked up.

  With nothing to do but answer the phone and properly schedule appointments, I was enjoying a little me time as I worked on homework and did some reading for English. My mother was even off for the day, so it was like a break from everything and everyone. No accounting talk, no football talk, no hovering, and no smothering.

  And it was nice.

  Malika: So he put the S on his chest and came to the rescue?

  I’d had to tell someone about saving Simba with Guillermo. About the way it felt to save a life. About the trouble I hoped I hadn’t landed Guillermo in.

  Me: Malika!

  Malika: What? He dropped everything to take you, coulda got you an Uber or somethin

  Me: He was worried too

  Malika: Still, he risked getting in trouble to help you. Says a LOT

  It did, it really did. And now we were back to square one with him being so distant. I’d thought we were friends.

  The sound of whistling pulled me away from my phone. Daren came around the corner, a little pep in his step as he approached the front desk. He glanced outside and shook his head before returning to me. “Gotta love the weather in this place, huh?”

  A steady sheet of rain fell from the sky. I feared getting wet when it was time to go home. Even with my umbrella and hat, it looked unrelenting.

  “Do me a favor and do last call for me on this floor,” Daren said. “I’ll check upstairs, but it’s been pretty dead since the kids left.”

  It was seven thirty and we’d be closing in an hour. I had to do a round of checks in each room to let everyone know. Due to the storm, not many people had showed up that evening, but still I went from room to room on the first floor, not surprised to find them empty.

  The lights in the rec room were on as well as a TV. When I poked my head into the fitness center, I saw one lone figure going at it with a punching bag.

  Guillermo.

  He viciously fed his fists into the mass of leather, bobbing and weaving as if his opponent was swinging back. From the lethal blows he was sending, I had a feeling a real person wouldn’t stand a chance against him. No wonder that guy, Shad, hadn’t been a match for him.

  The door slammed loudly behind me, alerting Guillermo to my presence. He stopped what he was doing, turning and facing me. His dark hair was wet and wild from perspiration, his breathing uneven, and his dark eyes stared at me.

&
nbsp; “Uh, last call,” I let out, a little uneasy.

  Guillermo nodded, shaking out his fists. “Yeah, I was just finishing up.”

  “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “I’ve been here for an hour. Daren was up front when I came in. I thought he had the place to himself.”

  It was tempting to stay and talk, but I didn’t want to bother him during his workout. I took one last look at the equipment in the room and turned to go.

  “Regan,” Guillermo called. He was watching me when I faced him, a hint of amusement on his face. “What do you do when the walls start closin’ in on you?”

  When weren’t the walls closing in on me? “Suffer and endure.”

  He cracked a smile and shook his head. “C’mere.”

  The husky way he said it, the cocky little grin on his face, should’ve told me to reject him and leave. But I dared to go closer, all too aware that the topless boy in front of me was looking better and better the closer I got. Sweat rained down his fit and tan frame, and his skin glistened.

  It wasn’t until I was right in front of him that I saw it.

  On the right side of his rib cage, a tattoo in lowercase script read reckless.

  Oh wow.

  It was...sexy, fitting his image effortlessly. I wanted to trace my fingers over it, feel the skin there and be just that. Reckless.

  “Yeah, don’t be like me.” Guillermo chuckled as he looked down at himself. “I got this after my second arrest. I was feelin’ really badass and one of my friends knew a guy, and this happened. My ma cried for weeks.”

  “I’ve seen way worse basement tattoos at school. This is good,” I said.

  “Wanna touch it?” he offered, noticing my continued stare.

  I knew better, but I was too curious to say no. Timidly, I reached out to touch his tattoo.

  The feel of his hot flesh beneath my fingertips caused goose bumps to prickle across my skin, and a weird sensation tingled through my body. I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt giddy.

  His hand encircled my wrist, taking the lead. “Know how to punch a bag?”

  I faced the black punching bag, intimidated. “No.”

  “Let me show you.” He moved closer. “If you’re going to be out walking around in the late evening to get away from that boyfriend of yours, at least let me show you how to defend yourself, hoyuelos.” His voice was like honey—sticky, sweet, enveloping me in a spell. “I want you to be safe when you’re on your own. Okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Guillermo grinned, disappearing behind me and placing his hands on my waist as he steered me in front of the bag.

  “I...I’ve never even been in a fight,” I admitted.

  “Of course not.” His voice hummed in my ear, causing me to suck in a breath. I was fully aware of him in that moment. “Square up for me, get in your best fighting stance.”

  I made two fists and did my best impression of one of those tough women from the few action movies I’d seen. If I looked ridiculous, Guillermo didn’t say anything.

  “What you’re going to want to do in any situation is be calm and rational. Don’t react—wait, and respond. Impulsive equals sloppy, got it?” He backed away and I found myself pouting at the coldness I felt at his absence.

  I eyed the punching bag. “Do I just punch it?”

  He held the bag and shook his head. “Nah, you gotta get in the zone.”

  “In the zone?”

  “Whatever bullshit problems you have, make it this bag. Your dad. Stress. Expectations. Punch it away. Own this bag.” He raised his fist for emphasis. “Make it yours.”

  Suddenly, all I could see was my dad yapping away about accounting, Troy and his greedy hands, everyone else and their expectations of me.

  I threw my first punch hard into the bag. Pain accompanied the blow, but it felt good to release energy like that. I threw another punch and then another. Soon, I was grinning like a fool, proud of myself, even though I hadn’t really done anything major. I’d thrown my first punch, and I was proud.

  “I did it.” I couldn’t stop smiling as I examined my fist. I needed lotion now, but still, I felt accomplished. Tough even.

  I gotta do this again.

  Guillermo observed me like a proud parent. “You should keep practicing.”

  “I will.”

  He studied me, angling his head for a moment before rolling his shoulders and shaking out his hands. “It busy out there?”

  “It’s dead.”

  “I’m going to shower. Want to play a game of pool before closing up?”

  I’d never cared for sports or games, especially with the way my father got so animated over football. But after losing pool to Guillermo before, I wanted to give it another go. I had to beat him, just once.

  “Sure.”

  “Meet you in...ten, fifteen minutes?”

  I nodded, then forced myself to keep it together and calmly walk back to the front desk—who was I kidding? As soon as the door to the fitness center shut behind me, I raced back up to the front and found Daren shrugging on his leather jacket.

  “Can I take an extra break?” I asked.

  Daren took a look around, noted no one who was still in the center, and nodded. “I’m about to sneak a cigarette, so sure, why not? Just don’t tell your mom.”

  I raised my finger to my lips. “Our secret.”

  Daren slipped out into the rain and stayed close to the front windows for the slight protection the roof gave.

  I didn’t go to the rec room right away. I hung back, watching and waiting to see if the phone would ring or if anyone would stop by.

  With my own cell empty of notifications, outside of a few likes on my social media page, I pocketed my phone and made my way to the pool table. The triangle sat in the middle with the balls racked and ready to go. I was slightly intimidated, but mostly eager to play again.

  Running my finger along the royal blue felt, I imagined myself winning and wiping the smirk off Guillermo’s face.

  You can do it.

  With my cue stick in hand, I tried to take a nonchalant warrior’s stance.

  A few minutes later Guillermo entered the room freshly showered and changed into a long-sleeved thermal underneath a red flannel top paired with dark-wash jeans. The smell of his bodywash danced into the room as he came to the table. Even with his clothes on, I could picture that tattoo gracing his skin.

  “Ready to lose?” he teased as he chose his own cue stick and began chalking it up.

  “You should be asking yourself that,” I told him.

  Guillermo whistled. “Famous last words.” He reached up and pulled his hair back into a bun and secured it at the nape of his neck. It was a shame really.

  “Before I forget...” I dug my phone out of my back pocket and scrolled through my photos in search of—there it was. “I got a picture of Simba before he goes to the rescue center.”

  Dr. Meyer had been optimistic about Simba when I’d stopped by after school to see him on Wednesday. She’d told me he was eating and drinking, and estimated he was about six months old. Despite my best efforts to keep it cool, I’d gotten all misty-eyed when I saw the pooch in his little cage. There was a cast on his hind leg, but he was otherwise doing better. When I’d gone home on Tuesday, I’d immediately gathered Tanner into my arms and just breathed him in.

  Guillermo took my phone and examined the photo of Simba, a smile forming on his lips. He passed my phone back. “I’m real glad he’s doing better. Yesenia about bawled her eyes out when I told her what happened.”

  His sister was so sweet. “Too bad your parents aren’t ready for a dog.”

  He shrugged. “Give it a little more time and they’ll break. Now that things are better, there’s only so much longer they’re going to be able to resist Yesi’s puppy dog face. S
he’s the cute one.”

  Liar.

  I concentrated on placing my phone in my back pocket, ignoring the urge to compliment him.

  Guillermo grabbed the triangle from the table and placed it on the wall where the cue sticks hung. “All right, let’s make it happen.”

  “Will there be a prize?” I asked.

  “Of course.” He rounded the table, coming close like a hunter stealthily approaching prey. “Prizes equals stakes, and stakes make things fun. Do you want to have fun?”

  Somehow, he’d managed to drip just the right amount of taunting into his tone as well as something that caused me to take a breath and tell myself to relax.

  “Y-yeah,” I told him. “I’m game.”

  The little smirk on his face should’ve let me know I was in for trouble.

  He leaned against the table. “Ladies first, think you can break?”

  Guillermo was looking at me and I was caught up watching him. I had no idea what he meant until it hit me. The balls, he wanted me to be the first to break them from their triangle.

  “Sure, I got this,” I boasted.

  He smiled softly and stood away from the table. “Have at it.”

  I faced the table and vertigo threatened to end the game as anxiety set in.

  Easy, you got this, Rey.

  I mumbled motivating chants in my head as I bent down with the cue in my hand and positioned myself comfortably. It would probably take a few more games before I developed a preferred method of handling the cue; even as I gripped it and practiced sliding it through the tunnel of my thumb and index finger, I didn’t feel too confident. But I didn’t let this psych me out as I locked onto the cue ball, determined to break and knock a ball into a pocket.

  Letting out a breath, I released the cue stick with just enough force and sent the cue ball rolling straight toward the triangle. The balls went flying across the blue felt and I watched with excitement as a solid ball and a striped one went into two pockets.

  Guillermo hung back, looking impressed. “Take your pick—solid or stripes?”

  “I’m pretty solid that I’m going to win, so I’ll stick with that,” I gloated.