Hector

by Elizabeth Reyes

  She turned around and waved a spatula at them, and it was on. She was going into one of her rants. Abel gave Hector a look. They should’ve known better than to talk about this in front of her.

  “Even if are paying for it, Abel, if you want me living there with you two, you will not be parading a different girl in and out of there every day. I won’t have it. You need to be respectful to me and yourselves. Besides,” she turned to stir the food in the pan then turned back to them, “any girl who is okay with knowing she is not the only girl that’s been in your bedroom that week or even month for that matter is not the kind of girl you want to be bringing home.”

  Hector wondered what his mom would have to say about Leticia and Miriam and smirked. Try the same night, Mom.

  “De que te ries?” His mother glared at him.

  Hector opened his mouth wide in protest. “I’m not laughing!”

  That only made his mother’s glare even more severe since he laughed while saying it. Abel laughed now too. Hector was sure Abel could only imagine what he’d been thinking.

  She turned on Abel now. “Don’t encourage him. You should be setting an example. You’re no spring chicken. When are you going to start looking for a nice little Mexican girl?”

  Hector muffled a laugh into his fist as soon as his mom turned her back on them. Abel’s head was already hanging back defeated. It was the same song and dance with his mother. Abel wasn’t even twenty-two yet, but by that age, she and all her siblings had been married with kids for years. So to her, Abel should be looking to settle down—with a nice little Mexican girl, of course.

  “And the younger the better,” she added.

  “Oh, good. We’re getting the long version tonight.” Abel said, standing up with his plate in his hand.

  “No seas grosero,” his mom snapped.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Abel kissed his mom’s forehead as he passed her to get to the sink. “I’m not trying to be rude. Go on.”

  “Did you get full?” she asked, immediately losing the angry tone and sounding concerned, as she if ever served them too little

  “Stuffed actually. But it was good.”

  His mother smiled, satisfied, then continued with her rant. “I’m just saying. The girls these days are so different from back in my day. The days of innocence and saving yourself for your husband are long dead.” She huffed. “So it’s best to get them younger when they’re still a little bit more innocent. You know, less experienced.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Madre.” Abel kissed her forehead as he walked past her again. “I gotta go. Don’t wait up.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I gotta go take care of some business,” Abel turned back with a wink, “respectfully, outside of your house.”

  Hector’s mom placed her hand on her hip, pressing her lips together with a frown but didn’t say a word, watching him until he was out of sight. She turned back to Hector who was now sitting at the table, and he wiped the smirk right off his face, shaking his head in disapproval.

  She rolled her eyes and went on about the age thing. Hector knew that argument was a bust. Younger wasn’t always better. Noah was proof of that. Roni was eight years older than he was, and those two were insanely happy. But he’d never bothered to argue the whole Mexican girl part. It’d never crossed his mind that he’d ever have to. Now he was curious. He had a feeling the answer would be based on some of the stuff his mom had said in the past. Still he decided to bite.

  A little annoyed that Charlee was back front and center on his mind again, he waited for his mom to stop and take a breath before interrupting.

  “So why only Mexican girls?”

  His mom turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as she piled the food onto his plate. “They don’t have to be Mexican. But it’s just better if you stick with your own culture. At least stick with Latinas.” She set the plate in front of him. “And hopefully to the ones whose parents were born in their country, not the second generation Latinas. They’re just as bad as non-Latinas—too Americanized—too modern for their own good.”

  Hector rolled his eyes now, ready to chuck this theory in the fire pit along with the “the younger the better” theory. “And what does that mean? Too modern for their own good?”

  He grabbed a tortilla and started rolling it up already, doubtful that his mom would have a valid argument for this one either.

  After setting a glass of milk down for him, his mother sat across from him and picked up the home profile papers. “Well, you mean aside from the obvious? They don’t cook.”

  She said that with so much conviction Hector laughed. Figures his mom would think that would be a deal breaker.

  “And?” he looked up from dipping his tortilla in his chili verde.

  His mom frowned. “Mijo, they’re just too liberal about everything. You wanna nice girl that still has some of the same good old-fashioned values you grew up with. You stray away from what you’re used to, and you’ll be treading into unknown waters. They are brought up believing and being told things Latinas are not told. Like that it’s okay to jump from one man’s bed to another’s just like that because men do it all the time. This equality stuff is constantly shoved into their modern-day heads. Some things are still sacred, and behaving that way is still frowned upon in our culture. Well, my era. And while I don’t have any daughters, just as I harp to you and Abel, I would like to think women like me from my era in my culture are also passing their beliefs and morals down to their girls.”

  And there you had it. Another one of his mother’s theories completely deflated. Although he’d met enough of the sweet Latinas his mother spoke of, he’d also met plenty like Leticia and Miriam. His mother’s suggestion that only the Latin world still held morals was ridiculous.

  Even he and Abel were perfect arguments against that. While his mother had managed to instill most of the morals and values she harped on about so often, neither Hector nor Abel had any qualms about engaging in a few acts his mother would certainly protest, so long as the girls were all for it.

  Charlee was another contradiction to his mother’s belief. He frowned, realizing that once again he was thinking about her, even as infuriating as that afternoon had been for him. It didn’t make sense.

  Uncontrollable desire was something even the most innocent would have a hard time masking. Hector had felt it in her kisses. It was exactly what he was feeling with every stroke of her tongue in his mouth. But the depth he’d felt in her kisses wasn’t because of the level of skill she possessed. It was just the opposite. If he had to guess, that might’ve been her first time doing something that arousing, and except for that heavenly moment his mouth veered downward to her neck, it’d only gone as far as kissing. Even then, her entire body had come alive, but not as he was used to. There was something so chaste about her body’s reaction to what he did to her, and he hadn’t even done much.

  That’s why he’d been so stunned about her forgettable comment. What he felt when he kissed her was hands down new to him, and almost two weeks later it was still so fresh in his head. All he had to do was close his eyes and feel it all over again.

  He stood up, once he’d polished off his food. His mother asked the same thing she asked both him and Abel every single time they finished eating. “Did you get full?” Hector nodded, placing the plate in the sink. “You got real quiet there all of a sudden.” Hector glanced back at his mom’s inquiring eyes. “Is there a reason why you were asking about girls that were not Mexican? Are you seeing one?”

  His mom was a sly one. Too bad she was wrong. “Nope,” he said, rubbing her shoulders as he came up behind her. “I was just curious.” He kissed her on the head. “I’m gonna go to the gym for a while.”

  “I thought you were there all morning?”

  “Yeah, I was, but I still have some paperwork to do in the office.”

  It was partly true. He did have some work to do but nothing that couldn’t wait until the next morning.
He just didn’t feel up to sitting around watching T.V. because he knew he’d be plagued with thoughts of the inevitable. He only hoped Walter had already worked out and left. It’s why he’d come home first and taken his time eating. The last thing he needed tonight was to hear the guy go on and on about Charlee.

  Chapter 16

  For as long as Charlee could remember, Drew had done the very thing she was now doing—tried to turn a negative into a positive. Ever since lasts weeks’ outburst from Hector at school about her talking to Ross, Drew was trying to convince Charlee that, once again, this was a good thing. That it only confirmed even further the very thing that Drew had been talking about just prior to going back for her paycheck: Hector had a serious thing for Charlee but didn’t do commitment.

  Only after seeing how crazy it made Hector to see Charlee with Ross, Drew now had a plan—a plan Charlee refused to take part in.

  “I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult, Charlee. You agreed there was no doubt about it. He was jealous.”

  “I never agreed that he was jealous.” Charlee said as she took a seat outside of Starbucks. “I agreed he was angry and rightfully so. Here I was being all friendly to the guy he’d saved me from and who put his good friend in the emergency room just weeks ago.”

  Drew sipped her latte, shaking her head. “Difficult.”

  “I am not being difficult,” Charlee insisted. “I just think playing head games is going make him think even less of me than he already does. I’ve made the most awful impressions on him already—each one worse than the last. First, I come off as a total bitch trying to show him up in front of the chess team on his very day there. Then, I easily give into making out with him at his party the very next day, after showing him up no less. And then,” she squeezed her eyes shut at the very thought, “then I make myself sound like a total slut just to cover up the fact that I care that that night didn’t mean everything to him like it did to me!”

  “I don’t think you made yourself sound like a slut—”

  “Oh, yes, I did. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the look on his face. Oh, but the absolute worst part is that now he not only thinks I’m a slut but he thinks I’m the dumbest slut on the planet, because now even creepy guy Ross is someone I’d consider doing . . . whatever it is he thinks I’m considering doing with him.” She peered at Drew. “Did you not see the look in his eye when he asked me if I was considering doing something with Ross?”

  “Yes, yes,” Drew said. “I saw and heard everything. He was jealous, Charlee. I’m telling you the guy’s got it bad. And it wouldn’t be head games we are playing. It’s not like you’re seeing him or anything and then trying to make him jealous. You’re free to do what you want with whomever you want. Though I forbid you spend any more time being friendly with Ross. He is creepy.”

  Charlee sipped her coffee but nodded in agreement. The only reason she’d been pleasant to Ross at all and agreed to talk to him later was because standing so close to Hector had brought back all the pain, the pain she was trying so desperately to rid herself of. At that moment, she didn’t want anything from Hector, not even his help, and she wanted to show him she had things under control. That she didn’t need him. “Well, I don’t flirt. You know that. Even if I did, I’m not flirting with anyone in the chess club. It would be too awkward. And since it’s the only place I get to be around Hector, then this little plan of yours is not going to work.”

  Drew pulled her lips to one side. Good. Charlee had her. They could just forget about this once and for all and accept that anything between her and Hector was impossible.

  She didn’t know why she’d ever allowed herself to even think it a possibility. For starters, Charlee was so pathetically inexperienced when it came to romantic relationships even getting involved with a less assuming guy would be a challenge. But to think she could work something out with a guy like Hector was almost laughable, not to mention daunting as heck. Though she had to admit, after being alone with him for a while in that room that night, talking to him had surprisingly become easier and easier.

  “So how long do you think we’ll be at that old peeps home with Walter?”

  “Just a few hours,” Charlee said. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Drew. It just sounded like something neat to do. He said they were really excited when Hector played them. So when he told them about the girl from U.S. team that also lived in town, they asked him to try to get me in there.”

  “No.” Drew smiled as they stood up, putting her arm around Charlee’s shoulder. “I don’t mind going with you at all. You’re too sweet.”

  Charlee smiled. “You know better than anyone this isn’t so selfless. I have a hunch this is going to feel as good as it does when we do the Special Olympics. And you know how addictive that is.”

  Drew’s face lit up. “I can play checkers or Yahtzi.”

  That made Charlee laugh, and she leaned into Drew. “I’m sure you’ll find an opponent there.”

  Glad that they’d at last canned this idea, Charlee could only hope it was the very end of this. She really needed to move on. The main reason she agreed to move out here in the first place was to get away and leave the nightmare behind. The last thing she should be trying to do now is create a new one.

  ***

  “I got it!” Drew burst into Charlee’s bedroom.

  Charlee looked up from her laptop with her pencil still in her mouth. Her friend dropped her purse on the floor with a huge smile on her face. Uh oh.

  Removing the pencil slowly from her mouth, Charlee watched as Drew made herself comfortable on the other end of the bed. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I just got here,” Drew said quickly. “Okay, remember that guy Miguel I told you about? The one I went out with a few times a couple of weeks ago?”

  Charlee frowned. “The one you said was nice but you didn’t like the way he laughed so you stopped going out with him just because of that?”

  Drew’s huge smile disappeared. “Charlee, you have to hear it. It’s awful. Like a horse spazzing out or something.” The huge smile was back instantly, and she waved her hands in front of her. “Anyway, I ran into him the other day. When we’d gone out, I talked about my dad collecting old records but how hard they are to get these days. He’d told me about some place in East L.A. that still sells all that. Long story short, he took me there today. Sounds of Music in the heart of East L.A, totally retro record store, something out of Pretty in Pink. So I go up to the register and pay, and there are all these flyers and stuff on the counter. Then I notice the pictures under the Plexiglas. Photos of what looked like the guy behind the counter with some rappers and singers, and then there it was—a photo of the guy and Hector standing by a boxing ring.”

  Charlee rolled her eyes. She knew it. They were back to this.

  Drew placed her fist on her hip. “Charlee, you promised you wouldn’t be difficult.”

  Scrunching up her nose, Charlee thought about it for a second. “I never promised that.”

  “Well, you should.” Drew jumped off the bed and reached for her purse. “Just listen to me. This gets better.” She pulled a small flyer-like card out of her purse. “I asked the guy if he knew Hector, and he said Hector and some of the other guys from 5th Street used to go in there often since it’s right up the street. Then he handed me this.”

  Charlee glanced down at the card Drew was holding out cautiously. “What is it?”

  “Read it,” Drew shook it in front of her.

  Charlee took it and read the header.

  FRIDAY NIGHT FIGHTS @ 5TH STREET

  THIS FRIDAY -- QUINTANILLA VS MACHADO

  “The guy said Quintanilla is one of the other owners of 5th Street.”

  Drew didn’t have to tell her. Charlee already knew all about Noah Quintanilla—one of Hector and his brother’s partners and childhood friends. She had, after all, become the queen of Google-stalking. She lifted her eyebrow at Drew almost afraid to ask.
/>   “You said the guys in the chess team have talked about having gone back to watch more fights since Hector’s, right?”

  Charlee nodded, looking back down at the card, continuing to read the rest of the details as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. She wouldn’t tell Drew, but she already knew about Friday Night Fights at 5th Street. The internet knew everything. But she hadn’t mentioned it before for this very reason.

  “So I didn’t know it was like this weekly thing, and it’s not only open to the public but they actually promote it on the radio and everything. They want people coming.”

  Oh no. Charlee could already feel the uneasiness creep up her spine. As much as she’d try to fight this, she knew that Drew was always so damn convincing and unwavering.

  “The best part is the guy down at Sounds of Music said it’s this big thing in the area on Friday Nights and there are always all these backyard parties after the fights. A lot of the trainers and even boxers show up to them.” Drew’s eyes were as bright as Charlee had ever seen them. “Of course, I asked if Hector goes, and he said, ‘yes’!” She weaved her head a little from side to side then admitted. “Not always, of course, but the guy said he’s been known to show up. That doesn’t even matter though. What matters is you may not have noticed, because you were so preoccupied watching Hector the whole time, but there were a bunch of hot guys there watching the fight last time. I’m sure they’re there every week.”

  Charlee began to protest, but Drew was quick to stop her, holding up her hand. The girl had obviously come here prepared for an argument. She knew Charlee too well. “If nothing else, maybe you’ll meet someone else. Hell, maybe I’ll meet someone there.” Drew made a pouty face. “You wouldn’t deprive me of the opportunity to possibly meet a hottie boxer or trainer?”

  Exhaling and feeling defeated, Charlee countered with the only thing she could think of. “What about Maurice? I thought you said you liked him.”

  Drew shook her head, tsking. “I was beginning to, but he blew it.”