Run the Risk

by Allison van Diepen

  As the judges deliberated, Feenix shifted in her seat. She wanted this badly.

  The judge with frizzy red hair and glasses stepped up behind the mike. “Shhh, everyone. Thanks for your patience. There is an incredible amount of talent in this room and this has been a very tough decision for us. But only three can make the finals. So here is the first one: Grace Dillane.”

  The crowd whooped, many of them turning my way and clapping. Feenix squeezed my shoulder. I couldn’t believe it. Me? Had I seriously just made the finals?

  “The next finalist is Colton Thomas.”

  I felt Feenix tense beside me, and my heart pounded in my ears. She had to make the finals. If she didn’t, we’d all freak. She deserved it more than anyone.

  Dear God, if I made it and she didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I wouldn’t even be here without her. She was ten times the poet I was. She was—

  The red-haired judge was speaking, “. . . but certainly not least, Feenix Menzies.”

  The crowd hoorayed.

  “Hells yeah!” I said, and hugged her. We’d both made it, thank God!

  We didn’t stick around to celebrate. As we headed out to Kenny’s car, a black Mazda pulled up, the windows rolled down.

  The sight of Mateo made my heart leap. But the grim look on his face made my stomach drop. Something was wrong.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “Sure, thanks. Talk to you guys later,” I said, slipping into the passenger seat before Feenix could question me.

  As soon as he started to drive, I turned to him. “Is this about Alex? Do they know where he is?”

  “No, don’t worry. I just wanted to talk to you.”

  About us? I wondered. I allowed myself a moment of hope. Had he decided to leave the gang?

  “I liked your poem,” he said. “I’m not surprised you made the finals.”

  “You were there? I didn’t see you.”

  “I didn’t want to distract you.”

  “What makes you think you’d distract me?”

  We exchanged a look, and my mouth went dry. “I’m glad you liked it. I was thinking about Alex’s situation when I wrote it. About enemies who masquerade as friends, like Animale.” I shuddered. “But I have the feeling you didn’t show up tonight to watch my poetry. What did you want to talk about?”

  He sobered. “I think we should wait until I get you home.”

  I knew then that he hadn’t come to me tonight with a change of heart. I should’ve sensed it already—his body language was closed off, his vibe tense. I felt a rush of disappointment.

  When we got to my place, Mateo came in and sat on the couch across from me. I took in his lean, strong physique, every detail of muscle and bone and weary brown eyes. I wondered if there would ever be a time when he wouldn’t affect me this way—when I wouldn’t resent the space between us.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I heard about Luke’s gift.”

  I blinked. Was that what this was about? Another warning about Luke the player?

  “He knows I love Pitbull, and one of his friends is working security.” I put my hands up before he could speak. “But I can’t be bought, and he’s not stupid enough to think I can.”

  “I know. But it’s not good enough. I’ve decided I can’t risk it.”

  “Risk what?”

  His eyes met mine. “You getting involved with Luke.”

  “I’m not,” I said, exasperated. “But even if I wanted to, it’s none of your business.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I wish it were my business, but you’re right. It isn’t. Still, I should tell you what I know about him.”

  “What you know?” I frowned. “Everybody knows he’s an ex-con. His past isn’t a secret.”

  “I’m talking about his present.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Luke is crooked. At least, we think he is.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His gaze didn’t stray from mine. “That’s why I started working at the theater. The Destinos are investigating him.”

  The world shifted around me. Mateo was investigating Luke? It didn’t make any sense.

  “Luke’s old gang, the Brothers-in-Arms, have a smuggling ring,” Mateo said. “We think he’s laundering money for them.”

  “What?”

  Something clicked in my mind. Mateo hadn’t been in Luke’s office that night looking for cash, after all. He’d been trying to find dirt on our boss.

  “Luke would never launder money for them or for anyone,” I said. “He’s worked too hard to get where he is to risk going back to jail.”

  “You don’t know that. The Brothers-in-Arms are a sick, twisted group. Remember the massacre last year in Jacksonville where five guys got hacked up in a roadside diner?”

  I nodded, my arms circling my queasy stomach. It had been all over the news.

  “That was the Brothers-in-Arms teaching a rival biker gang a lesson. We’re trying to shut them down. But we need to figure out where they’re laundering their money.”

  “It’s not your job to shut them down,” I said. “Leave it to the police. The FBI. Whoever.”

  “We’re not totally on our own.”

  “Are you working with the cops?”

  He said nothing, but that was as good as confirming it.

  “You’re insane, Mateo. Whether Luke’s involved or not—and I’m sure he isn’t—the Destinos can’t possibly take on a biker gang. Going after the Locos is bad enough.” I flashed back to news clips of the aftermath of the massacre, and shuddered. The Brothers-in-Arms were monsters.

  “We can take them on,” he said with quiet confidence. “All the evidence points to Luke doing the laundering through the theater. Where does an ex-con find the money to buy a movie theater in the first place?”

  “Maybe he got a loan like regular people do. I don’t know.”

  He gave me a come on look.

  “I know Luke,” I said. “He’s not a saint, but he’s a decent person. A kind person. He’s learned from his mistakes. He wouldn’t have anything to do with the Brothers-in-Arms.”

  Mateo looked mystified. “Why are you taking this so personally?”

  “I—I just told you why.”

  His gaze flickered. “Did something happen between you two?”

  I didn’t answer. My face flushed.

  “When?”

  “The night Alex got hurt,” I said, feeling ashamed.

  Pain burned across his face, but he masked it quickly. “I told you he was dangerous. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

  “I thought you meant because he was a player! And it’s not up to you what I do.” I didn’t think you wanted me.

  If only I could do it—reach across, grab his hand. Find a way.

  “So you and Luke.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. We just kissed. That’s it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His eyes were shuttered now, his emotions closed off. “I hope I’ve convinced you to stay away from him from now on.”

  “You don’t have to convince me of anything. I wasn’t going to let it happen again. We agreed it was a total mistake.”

  He got up. “Make sure you don’t let on to Luke that you know anything. I’ve still got some investigating to do.”

  I grabbed his arm as he stood up. “Mateo, please. I’m not the one you should be concerned about. What do you think the Brothers-in-Arms would do if they knew you were investigating them? Even if you think it’s a good cause, you can’t be doing your gang’s dirty work.”

  His expression hardened. “I’m not doing anybody’s dirty work. Besides, I volunteered for the job.”

  I stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I found out you were working at the theater.”

  Before I could say anything, he walked out.

  MINE

  AT THREE A.M., I STILL couldn’t sleep.
I was furious. I sat up in bed and texted Mateo:

  I can’t sleep thanks to you. If you cared about me at all you’d give up your little investigation.

  He got back to me within seconds:

  Don’t text about it.

  I turned off my phone, tempted to throw it across the room. There was no talking him out of this. His loyalty was to the Destinos. He’d do whatever it took to finish the job and nothing I could say would make any difference.

  My alarm woke me a few hours later. I hit the snooze button twice, then forced myself to sit up, light-headed from lack of sleep. After a quick shower, I found a couple of granola bars to eat on the bus. I grabbed yesterday’s mail on the way out and shoved it into my purse, hoping there weren’t any overdue bills.

  When I got to Compass, we swim-suited and sun-screened the kids for water play in the backyard. Normally we would’ve gone to the neighborhood splash pad, but Yolanda was nervous about taking them off-site with the recent shooting. She’d brought in an old Slip’N Slide and two sprinklers. We’d make it work.

  On my lunch break, I opened my mail in the staff room. With all the late bills we’d received in the past, I now had mail-opening PTSD. It turned out to be mostly junk mail and a letter from the Miami-Dade Admissions Department.

  My stomach tightened. This must be it—my acceptance or rejection letter to the Early Childhood Education program. I took a breath, feeling my nerves tremble. Whatever the letter says, I’ll be okay, I told myself. I’d deal. What’s meant to be will be.

  I stared at the letter, almost afraid to open it. I’d been working up to this for almost a year. I only hoped all my efforts to get in had been enough.

  Tearing open the letter, I scanned it.

  I got in!

  My head sank to my chest in pure relief. Thank God.

  I raised my head to continue reading the letter, and my eyes almost popped out of my head. I got a scholarship too! What?

  Telling myself to calm down, I read the entire letter again to make sure it was real. It was.

  My tuition next year would be paid. My grades—and all my volunteer experience—had done it.

  My future was finally falling into place.

  I thought of Mom. She’d be so proud. She’d always told me to make my life count, and working with children was my way of doing that. Sure, the kids might grow up and forget all the times I’d encouraged and comforted them. But I believed that, on some level, it still made a difference. As Mom said, Love’s never wasted.

  I texted Alex, Dad, and Carol Ann with my big news. I wanted to text Mateo, but there was no point. He was a drug I was going to have to wean off sooner or later.

  Carol Ann replied right away: Fabulous news! You’ll have to come up soon to celebrate!

  Yolanda came into the staff room to grab the veggies from the fridge. I held up the letter. “I got accepted into ECE—and I got a scholarship too!”

  Her eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful!” She gave me a hug.

  “I’m sure it was your recommendation that got me the scholarship.”

  She waved a hand. “It’s you that did it. Do you think the other applicants had hundreds of volunteer hours? I don’t think so. You’re an asset to our program, Grace. I hope you can do at least two of your three placements with us. Now, make sure to put the letter on my desk before you leave today so we can get you started with payroll.”

  “What? Payroll?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Didn’t you know? We can pay our employees who are enrolled in an ECE program. A letter of admission is good enough for payroll. It’ll take a couple of weeks to process, but hopefully we can pay you retroactive to the letter’s date.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “Wow.”

  “You work so hard. Sometimes I think you work too hard with both your jobs. You deserve to be paid.” She lifted the tray of veggies and left the kitchen.

  The implications spun in my head. My volunteer work at Compass was turning into a paid job. And I’d gotten a scholarship. I felt like I’d won the lottery.

  Or something better: independence.

  I closed my eyes and let it wash over me. My future was, suddenly, my own.

  When my break was over, I found the kids wearing party hats. For a second I thought it was somebody’s birthday. Yolanda and Kylie counted, “One, two, three!” The kids yelled, “Hooway for Gwace!” and started clapping and cheering.

  I laughed. Some kids came up for hugs. Sofia was last in line.

  “Congwatuwations,” she whispered in my ear.

  “Thank you.” I squeezed her tight.

  “It’s about freaking time you’re getting paid,” Kylie said, hugging me. “You’re gonna run this place one day, no doubt about it. All I ask is that when you do, I get Fridays off in the summer.”

  I grinned. “Done.”

  “You’re definitely going to Luke’s tonight,” Feenix said Saturday at work. “We have to celebrate!”

  “I’m in.” I hadn’t gone to one of his parties in a month, but tonight I felt like celebrating.

  I’d posted a selfie holding the acceptance letter, and people had been congratulating me all week. I had to admit, it felt really good.

  “You’re not going to quit this job once you start school, right?” Feenix asked. “I couldn’t rock this pretzel stand with anybody else.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” In the fall, I’d be juggling college, teaching placements, and the theater. I’d probably take fewer shifts, but I wouldn’t quit. “I like it here. Let’s face it, we’re being paid to hang out together and we get free pretzels. Not a bad deal.”

  “Don’t you forget that, sweets,” she said, giving me a one-armed squeeze.

  Customers kept us busy for the next hour. I took my break with a pretzel and a soda. I saw a quick movement, and then Mateo was sitting in front of me.

  I felt it—the familiar electric charge of his presence. My hands tingled, and I curled them tightly around my drink. I still couldn’t believe he’d been spying on Luke this whole time. Did he have more secrets to lay on me?

  Before I could open my mouth to ask, he said quietly, “We’re not talking about that here.”

  I sipped my drink, feeling the iciness flow down my throat. “There’s nothing to talk about anyway. You know how I feel.”

  “And you know how I feel.”

  I saw the look on his face and realized that we were talking about two different things. I squelched the wave of longing inside me.

  “I just wanted to congratulate you,” he said.

  “You already did. You liked my post on Facebook.”

  “Right, well, I wanted to do it in person. I’m really glad you got in and got that scholarship. You deserve every good thing that comes your way.” His eyes were warm. “I’ll always be cheering you on from the sidelines, even if you don’t know I’m there.”

  His words touched me, and I could hardly form a reply. “Thanks.”

  He managed a half smile, then got up and left me alone.

  After Mateo’s little speech, there was a lump in my throat that wouldn’t go away. Although my need to party had faded, I’d promised Feenix we’d celebrate. Besides, I didn’t want to face the emptiness of my house.

  I walked over to Luke’s with Feenix and Kenny. Eddie, Jamar, Nina, and Nyla were already there. Two trays of hot, gooey nachos were spread out on the breakfast bar. Judging by his bloodshot eyes, Eddie had already started drinking. He offered to pour me one, but I shook my head and grabbed a can of Coke Zero.

  “So you got yourself a sweet scholarship, I hear,” Eddie said, pulling a few nachos out, cheese stringing in a big line. “Congratulations are in order.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but formal education is worthless. Obviously you’re good at working with kids. You don’t need a paper to confirm it.”

  “No, but you need the qualification to get paid at Compass.”

  “That’s exactly my point,” he said
, nachos garbling his speech. “You need to get the diploma just to work where you’re already working. That’s fucked-up.” He sipped some beer. “I went to college. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I stopped two credits before finishing. My parents think I did it just to piss them off, but it’s not true. It’s because I can’t stand credentialism and won’t play along.”

  Of course, he expected me to ask what credentialism was. There was no need, though. I could figure it out.

  He told me anyway. “It’s the attitude that if you have a degree, you’re better than everybody else. What college you went to is a factor too. My sister went to Vassar and my parents brag about it nonstop. It’s just a way for The Man to decide who gets privilege and who gets dick all.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  Luke and Mateo came in then, laughing about something. There were three hot girls with them.

  “Luke’s posse,” Eddie grumbled.

  Mateo saw me right away. He looked almost apologetic, and I could see why. One of the girls was glued to his side. She had beach babe written all over her—skinny like she’d never eaten a burger, with a golden tan, unnaturally black hair and sky-blue eyes.

  I looked away, my gut wrenching.

  Eddie was still talking to me, and I nodded at the appropriate times. Eventually I told him I had to go to the bathroom, and slipped away.

  Over the next half hour, another dozen people arrived and a dance floor started in the living room. Kenny had taken charge of the music, putting on some quality hip-hop and electro soul. Feenix was dancing for him in that cool, sensual way she had, and he was loving every minute. They were happy.

  So was the girl currently dancing with Mateo. She had one arm around his neck and was winding it up in front of him. He was looking down, focusing on the gymnastic swirl of her hips. She moved well, I had to admit. Maybe she had some Latina in her.

  Mateo’s little speech stuck in my mind. If he cared about me so much, did he have to rebound right in front of me?

  I wasn’t going to join the dancers, not with Mateo among them. So I went back into the kitchen where Luke sat with two hot girls. I pulled up a stool. One of the girls gave me a quick once-over, then lifted her chin, as if deciding that I was no competition.