by Nia Arthurs
“What?”
“Just answer the question, Richie!”
He licks his thin lips and admits, “Yeah. I did.”
I rub my hands down my face, struggling to make sense of his actions. “Why?”
“Because…”
My head whips up. “Be very careful how you finish that sentence.”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
I pace his office, my heart pounding. Richie’s my cousin. My flesh and blood. I have to tread carefully here.
But I don’t want to.
“I warned you, didn’t I?” My arm hovers in the air, one finger pointing at him. “Your wedding—”
Richie scoffs. “Don’t give me bull about the wedding. I know you’re not acting like this because you’re concerned for my future wife. This is about you and Gwen.”
“She’s someone I care about. I won’t let you toy with her just because you need an outlet for your stress.”
“It’s not like that.” He sinks against his desk, one leg propped on the side of it.
“Then what’s it like?” I demand.
Gwen probably isn’t interested in dating either of us, but at least I’m not betrothed to someone else. I’m not pledging my life to another woman in a week either.
I may be a coward, but Richie’s the one who’s about to ruin his engagement. If any of the elders found out…
“I can’t get her out of my mind,” Richie admits. “She’s there when I close my eyes. When I get up in the morning. It’s like I’m being haunted. And I tried. I really did. But that night at the club, Gwen and I—we connected.”
“You were piss drunk, Richie. You connected with a lamppost before you stumbled into that bar.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” An edge creeps into my voice. “The fact that we’re even having this conversation is unbelievable. What’s your end game here, Rich? You keep Gwen on the side while Mei An takes care of your house?”
“Shut up, Danny.” He clenches his hair. “I’m trying to make sense of it all myself.”
I stare at him, unmoved by his frustration. “I told Gwen I was the one who bought her the chocolate.”
Richie doesn’t look surprised. “I figured you would. That’s probably for the best. What are you gonna do with her?”
“Gwen and I are none of your business. Just keep your distance, Richie. I’m not saying this just because I like Gwen. I’m saying this because I care about you. There’s too much at stake.”
A smile twists his trembling lips. “At least you said it out loud.”
“Said what?”
“You like Gwen.”
I lean back. It’s like Richie smacked me in the face.
He’s right.
These past few weeks, I made a conscious effort to pretend I didn’t. To call my interest something else—brotherly concern, baseless attraction, temporary insanity.
But the truth is out. There’s no use denying it.
I don’t want to hide anymore.
13 Gwen
“Gwen, open up!” Britney’s voice sounds muffled. Heavy thuds threaten to break my door down. “We’re here!”
I run to the hall and greet my friends. “You’re early.”
Britney grins at me and tosses her short hair, styled into loose waves, over her shoulder. It just comes flying back. “We brought the refreshments.”
I glance around her, noticing Winnie trotting up the path in six-inch heels and a tiny red dress that stops high up her thighs. She’s leading a man in a brown uniform to my door. I eye the patch over his pocket. The logo is from our local drinks distributor.
“Brit, please tell me you didn’t order a truckload of liquor. I told you I didn’t want a wild party. I’m renting this place from a friend. There can’t be any damages.”
“It won’t be a wild party. I swear.”
“Yeah.” Winnie hops up the stairs. “Loosen up, girl.”
“Where do you want me to put this?” the deliveryman asks, eyeing Winnie’s glossy brown legs. I have no idea how he doesn’t tumble down the stairs with his attention so focused on her body.
Winnie smiles flirtatiously. “Right in there.”
The glass bottles clank against the sides of the red crate as he sets it down and hikes back to his truck to deliver another.
“Gwen, please tell me this isn’t what you’re wearing tonight.” Winnie plucks at the hem of my off-the-shoulder blouse.
“What’s wrong with it?” I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. “I thought it looked nice.”
“Girl, this isn’t Bingo Night.”
Britney winces. “You’ve got such a nice body, Gwen. There’s nothing wrong with showing it off.”
“Here’s the last of it,” the deliveryman says, thrusting the last crate inside.
“Thanks.” Winnie flashes him another sultry smile and then scribbles her signature on the clipboard he offers.
“Could I have your number too?” he asks. “So customer service can check back?”
“Nice try.” Winnie wiggles her fingers. “Bye.”
Britney snorts when the man is gone. “Poor guy.”
“At least he has good taste.” Winnie winks. “Alright. Our guests should arrive in an hour. Gwen, you’ve got more than enough time to change and fix your makeup. Brit, could you help her out? I’ll set up the drinks in the kitchen.”
When Britney and I just stand there staring at her, Winnie raises her voice. “Let’s go!”
I scramble down the corridor, skating into the bedroom. Britney sprints after me and closes the door. She rests her back against it, a hand over her heart.
“What’s up with her?” I frown and flop on the edge of my bed. “She’s more intense than usual.”
“Her dad moved out of the house. Now her parents are calling every night trying to find out where she’ll live on the weekends and during the holidays. They don’t care that she’s an adult. It’s like a big competition. She’s going insane. I think Win wanted this party tonight more than you.”
“That’s for sure.”
I’d rather enjoy a weekend curled up with a good book than entertain a bunch of strangers I don’t care about.
Since Winnie suggested the house warming idea, I’ve been struggling with a reason to call it off. Now that I’ve heard how much it means to her, I’m glad I didn’t.
“Thanks for doing this.” Brit places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m speaking on Win’s behalf since she won’t ever admit it.”
“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “Why are you both so dressed up? I thought this party would be low-key?”
“This is low-key.” Britney pulls at the scoop of her daring black halter-top dress. “It’s just for one night. Can’t you try to loosen up and go back to the old Gwen?”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Whatever.”
“Great.” Britney’s light brown eyes sparkle as she leaps to my closet and rummages through the clothes there. “Who’s this house for anyway? Why did we have to take our shoes off before coming inside?”
“It’s for a… family friend.”
Britney snorts. “Can you imagine how everyone will react when we ask them to take their shoes off tonight? I think it’s hot. Kinda kinky.”
“If you say so.” I accept the dress she tosses at me. “I’ll be right back.”
After I change into the dress—a sleeveless number that flares around my knees—I return to the bedroom so Britney can do my makeup. There’s music playing from the living room. I hear boisterous laughter.
Britney grins as she leans over me with a mascara wand in her hand. “Looks like your first guests are here. I should hurry.”
“Take your time,” I say. My friends are way more social than me. I plan on avoiding conversation as much as I can tonight.
Britney ignores my advice and races through the rest of my makeup. I lock up the bedroom and pocket my key. Winnie promised tonight won’t get wild, but I
don’t want to take any chances.
Aiden’s child was probably conceived at an event like this.
Besides I have to sleep on these sheets when everyone leaves and I don’t want any kind of questionable fluids on it.
When I trot outside, I’m assaulted by a blast of loud reggae music and a living room packed with bodies. I don’t recognize half these people. Where did they come from? Do they even go to Balen U?
Winnie elbows her way through the crowd, a cup in her hand. “There’s the woman of the hour!”
The scent of alcohol washes over me, triggering my gag reflex. Winnie looks smashed. How is she drunk already? I was only in my bedroom for about forty minutes.
“Hey, Win.” I toss her arm away. Drunk people are not fun. Not to me.
Britney appears. “There you guys are.”
“What do you think?” Win slaps her hand around me again and stares at the kids in my living room. “It’s a nice turnout, right?”
“I thought it would be a few people from school?” I say through gritted teeth.
“It was, but the entire football team came anyway, and they brought their groupies and their groupies brought their friends…”
“Winnie, if anyone damages a thing in here—”
“Re-lax.” She staggers to the right. “We’ve got everything under control. Right, Brit? Tonight is just about having fun. Don’t worry about anything else.” Winnie loses her footing and almost crashes to the ground.
Britney and I jump to her rescue.
Britney reaches her first and wraps both hands around Winnie’s waist. “Let’s sober up, Win. Come on.”
As my friends stumble away, I stand in place and stare at the raging party. I hope Danny doesn’t show up tonight.
God, please don’t let him show up tonight.
“Gwen?” A familiar voice rumbles. I spin and find Rafael Rodriguez approaching me.
“Raf?” I grin and wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him in for a tight squeeze. He’s so tall I have to go on the tips of my toes just to reach him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in Cayo for a Tiger’s Club meeting when I heard you were having a housewarming.”
“You heard, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s all over campus.”
If Win or Brit were here I would side-eye them hard.
Rafael touches my arm. “I haven’t seen you since last year. You were supposed to go to Haiti, right? Did you end up going?”
I nod and lean closer to him. “It’s kinda hard to talk out here. Should we go somewhere quiet?”
I’m glad I have a party buddy. Rafael’s a good guy. We met two years ago when I joined the Tiger’s Club—an international charity organization. My parents were heavily involved, but I officially joined when I started Balen.
I lead Rafael to the back porch—which is, thankfully, cool and quiet. Basically the complete opposite to the human sardine can inside.
The songs of insects and toads replace the loud music. Stars twinkle in the velvet sky. A cool wind skitters over my naked shoulders.
I inhale a breath of fresh air. “Oh, this is so much better.”
Rafael rubs his thick black beard, eyes gleaming as he observes me. “Long week?”
“I’m just not a throw-a-house-party kind of person. Honestly, since I came back everything about my old life just feels so…”
“Excessive?”
“How did you know?”
He shrugs broad shoulders. “It happened to me too. I spent two months in the slums of San Pedro, our own backyard. I found the disparity between the rich and the poor disgusting. Messed me up for life. I still can’t enjoy all-inclusive resorts without thinking about what those workers have to go back to.”
“Did you ever get over it?”
“Nope. You just… you change. You try not to get too preachy about things because it makes your friends uncomfortable. Eventually, you move on.”
“Have you moved on?”
His brown eyes cast to the ground. “I wish. There was this little girl, Anita. Her family lived in a little shack above the canal. Anita needs parents with a stable job, a good education, opportunities to study further. We built her a house. It’s not nearly enough.”
“Anita’s story reminds me of this smart kid I met in Haiti. Jude.” I picture the nine-year-old’s dark face and intelligent brown eyes. “His family lost everything in the hurricane. I wish I could have done more.”
“At some point, you have to let it go. We want to take responsibility for all the disadvantaged people in the world, it’s a burden that’s way too much for anybody.”
“I know that in theory.” I clutch my heart, surprised by the emotion welling in my chest. “It’s hard to practice. I’m trying to slip back into my old life, but it’s like the skin doesn’t fit anymore.”
“Trust me. I get it.” Rafael chugs his drink and wipes his lips. “Come on. Enough of the Depressing Hours for tonight. You want a drink?”
“I’m good, but I could use a snack.”
I let Rafael lead me back inside. We wade to the kitchen, elbowing our way through a crowd that’s multiplied. A quick look around reveals that both of my friends are enjoying themselves way more than I am.
Winnie is grinding up on a tall guy who looks suspiciously like Brock. Didn’t she insist she wasn’t into him anymore? Brock holds her by the waist, bracing her with a huge grin on his face.
I pat my pocket, nodding when I feel my room key.
They better head elsewhere if they expect to go any further tonight.
Britney is dancing with three of her girl friends from Cayo. Since she’s originally from this district, she knows a lot more people than I do.
Her short hair bounces high above her head. The living room is dark, the couches pushed back to form a makeshift dance floor, but I can see the delight in her eyes from back here.
Last year, I would have been right there with them. Drinking has never been my thing, but I love to dance.
I want to join my friends, but talking about what I saw in Haiti is weighing too heavy on my mind.
Rafael catches me staring at the dancers and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I blurt. Too quickly.
He doesn’t believe me. “You wanna dance?”
“No, I—”
An adorable grin spreads on Rafael’s face. “You wanna dance, Gwen. Come on.” He captures my hand and leads me to the dance floor.
Britney waves when she spots me. Her gaze flicks to Raf and she mouths, “He’s cute.”
I ignore her and jump to the music, throwing my head back and forth. My muscles loosen up, and I remember a few moves I learned in my childhood dance class.
My heart lightens and my burdens float far away. Britney throws her head back and laughs, mimicking my moves in a poor imitation.
Rafael comes up behind me and we dance together. I’m not going to town like Brock and Winnie, but I don’t shy away from him either.
It’s all in good fun.
Then I see a familiar face and my blood runs cold.
14 Danny
I throw the car against the curb and leap out, stunned by the noise erupting from my old vacation home. College kids are popping out of the front doors, littering the yard and clutching red cups.
So much for a small gathering.
I push into the house, adjusting my eyes to the dim lighting. I have no idea how so many people are crushed into the living room. The air is thick and hot. Loud soca music pumps through my veins, threatening to shatter my eardrums.
Gwen must be freaking out.
I give the room a quick sweep, searching for the girl with black hair, smooth brown skin and a perfect body.
Gwen’s nowhere to be found.
I lean over to ask a random guest where she is, but the girl gives me a look dripping with disinterest and informs me that ‘she has a boyfriend’ before hugging up on some dude behind me.
Okay then.
; All around, people are coupling up. Two co-eds make out in the shadows near the corridor. Another pair sits, tangled together, in the lone sofa pressed against the wall.
Lovely.
I peer through the kitchen that’s relatively brighter. All I see is a table spread with beer bottles and a half-empty giant bowl of chips.
Still no Gwen.
There’s a jubilant cry from the squirming bodies on the dance floor. I move that way. The stench of puke rises from a sticky substance against the wall. I hope that’s not what I think it is.
The closer I get to the dancers in the middle of the living room, the more I doubt that Gwen is there. Hopefully, I can find Winnie or Britney, and they can point me in the right direction.
My gaze lands on the dancing figures at the edge of the crowd.
And then I spot her. Or someone who looks like her.
She’s wearing a white dress. Sleeveless. Moonlight glimmers over brown shoulders. Long black hair flicks back and forth as she dances with abandon.
“Gwen?”
Her head whips up like she heard me though I know it’s impossible to hear anything over the obnoxious music. Our gazes collide. Fear and something that looks a lot like guilt stamps across her face.
The guy dancing with her pauses, his nose crinkled in confusion.
Heat sears my chest. My teeth grind together. I try to relax before I break a tooth.
Gwen pushes the guy back and strolls toward me. She’s three inches taller than usual. A glance down reveals open-toed pumps. She looks stunning. Gorgeous. Sexy.
I don’t want anyone else noticing.
“You came,” she says when she’s near me. Her voice is loud to combat the music. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”
I flew out of the office the minute the clock hit five. The traffic on the highway was abysmal, so I languished behind a long line of trucks and tried to push the speed limit every chance I got.
Only to get here and find her being pawed by some punk.
“Gwen?” The punk in question trots toward us. He’s shaped like a stick with brown skin and large, doe-like eyes.
My fingers clench into fists, but I hold my arms at my sides. “Who’s this?”
Gwen winces. “Raf, this is Danny. He’s the owner of the house.”
