Seeds of Hate

by Melissa Perea

  "What?" I asked.

  He looked back at the bedroom, at the front door, at the plate of food in my hand and then walked toward me. When he got to my side, he reached out and wrapped his arms around my waist. I hugged him back. If I ever became a father I'd do better than both of ours combined. Better than Selah's and better than Nathan's. There wasn't another option.

  I patted him on the back and he pulled away smiling. He picked up the plate of food, sat down and began to eat. I grabbed the cardboard from my bedroom and put my keys in my pocket.

  "I'll see you in a few," I said. Gio nodded and continued to eat. "If Gianna comes home tonight, at least check-in, okay?" He nodded again and I left.

  ***

  The walk to Selah's was complicated and took some time. I grabbed a bus for the miles-long stretch down the boulevard, but she lived several blocks away from any relevant stop. Before leaving I hadn't really thought about whether or not she'd be okay with this much walking. I cursed under my breath. This was a bad idea.

  When I reached her house, I stood at the edge of her driveway and stared. And stared. And stared. The front door opened, but it didn't register.

  "Javi ... you coming in?" Selah's voice carried across the pavement and pulled me out of my reverie. I moved the cardboard car to my other arm and headed toward her. It relieved me to see her wearing something normal. Or normal for her. Her shirt was new, but that was it.

  I rubbed my eyebrow. "Hi," I said.

  "Hi," she returned, her lips shy and her cheeks red. "I just need to grab my bag."

  She ran toward the back of the house and picked up a large, yellow purse. Very yellow, very large.

  "What's that under your arm?" she asked.

  "Oh nothing." I looked at the cardboard and swallowed. "You'll see."

  Locking the door behind her, we walked down the driveway, but she slowed as we reached the end. Selah scanned the street and looked back at her car.

  "Did you walk all the way here?" she asked.

  I pushed the suspenders deeper into my pockets and tugged on the neckline of my shirt. "Yeah. I walk everywhere. It's not bad."

  Selah raised her eyes. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive? There isn't much in my neighborhood that's close."

  I clenched my jaw and did my best to hide the irritation in my voice. "We're taking a bus for a portion of the trip. I said I'd pick you up. Let me pick you up," I replied.

  She placed the keys in her bag and started to walk ahead of me. Looking over her shoulder with lips pursed, she smiled. "You coming?" she asked.

  I caught up with her. The cardboard felt lighter than before, and as we turned the corner, I grabbed her hand. It was warm and small and comfortable.

  I didn't want to let go.

  ***

  We jumped off the bus and walked a few blocks before coming to an intersection of choices.

  "What's your favorite worst food?" I asked.

  Selah looked around, her options plentiful—tacos, burgers, fried chicken and a random seafood place.

  "Burgers and fries," she replied.

  Jim's Beef n' Bun was across the street. It had a small enclosed dining area, but we would be hitting up the drive-thru.

  "Are you ready?" I asked.

  "Ready to eat?" she replied.

  I popped open the cardboard box. On the outside Gio and I had drawn doors, handles, headlights and a license plate. There was nothing special about the actual box, but it was the experience that made it worth something. Selah stood silent and walked around the box, observing my work.

  The suspenders clicked from front to back, one on each side. They would sit on our arms and hold the car in place so our hands could be free.

  I stepped inside and held out my hand. "I'd turn on some music, but the stereo is broken."

  Selah laughed. It started out small, but moved down to her belly. Her giggles were sweet and infectious.

  "You're not going to stand me up now, are you?" I asked.

  She attempted to swallow her laughter and grabbed my hand. "I wouldn't think of it," she replied.

  Stepping inside next to me, I grabbed the left suspender and held up the right for her. She followed my lead and lifted it up and over her arm. The box bobbed around our bodies. It was hard to not laugh, but I tried to keep a serious face.

  I began to walk, slow and steady until she got the hang of it. We paused at the corner of the sidewalk and I pressed the crosswalk button. The white man blinked and we continued.

  "Will they let us order like this?" she asked.

  "You mean in a car?" I replied. "Of course. It's a drive-thru."

  Selah grabbed my hand, her eyes crinkling at the edges and her mouth wide with happiness. "You and Gio have done this before, haven't you?"

  I feigned honesty. "Maybe," I replied.

  We got to the other side and walked up behind a car already in Jim's drive-thru. Selah was shorter than me so our car was a bit off-kilter. I reached over and tightened her suspender to make up for the difference. Another car pulled in behind us. I could hear snickering and laughter. They honked their horn, but I looked ahead, ignoring them.

  "So what's good here?" she asked.

  I looked down into her eyes. "Everything," I replied. Her face flushed and we walked as the car ahead of us ordered and moved forward.

  The speaker was old and the voice coming out was scratchy. "What can I get for you today?" asked the unknown female from inside.

  I looked at Selah and then replied, "Two burgers, two fries and a shake."

  "What flavor?" said the scratchy speaker.

  Selah grabbed my arm and whispered, "Chocolate?"

  "Chocolate," I said.

  "Your total will be $12.75. Please pull up."

  We kept moving until we stood just outside the pick-up window. The cashier didn't even bat an eyelash at our appearance. I paid and when our food was ready I handed it to Selah.

  "You're not going to help me carry it?" she asked.

  "I have to drive," I replied, my face serious, with laughter hiding at its edges.

  Selah shook her head, but went along. We exited the drive-thru and headed to the street corner—my hands readied at the fake steering wheel.

  "Where are we going now?" she asked.

  "Home," I replied. "I promised you food and a movie."

  I turned left at the crosswalk and drove us to my apartment. When we arrived at the base of my stairs, I pulled off our straps and folded up the car. I grabbed the food from Selah's hands and headed up. "Gio's over. He's sort of always over. I hope that's okay." I didn't know what she was or wasn't expecting on this date, but I hoped his presence wouldn't disappoint.

  "Of course," she replied, while fixing her hair and adjusting her shirt. "Your mom's not here, is she?"

  "No, she works late, or rather, early. Won't be home until tomorrow morning."

  Selah stopped fidgeting and we went inside.

  "Gio, I'm back," I called out. His little feet came stammering in as I shut the door behind me. Running straight to Selah, he gave her a hug and smiled.

  "I missed you too," she said in response.

  I popped in the movie and took a seat on the couch. Ripping open the bags, I set out our food and pressed play. Selah followed. Gio stood hovering next to us, and as Selah turned her head, I motioned for him to scram. "Go to bed," I mouthed silently. He dulled out a fake pout but then turned around and left.

  The music began in the background and Selah lifted her burger to her mouth, but paused before taking a bite. "Cinderella?" she asked.

  I sat there chewing, but swallowed at her question. "Uh, yeah?"

  "Interesting choice," she replied.

  "It's my mom's favorite and the only DVD we own. Everything else is VHS. Is it lame?" I asked.

  "Nope," she said as she ate the rest of her food. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

  We ate and watched. We didn't talk or ask questions. We just spent time together. I placed my arm behind her head, inv
iting her to come closer. She snickered but moved over. I ended up meeting her halfway since she wasn't close enough.

  I stopped watching the movie once I could feel the heat of her body against mine. She laid her head against my shoulder and relaxed. Gus Gus was getting fitted for clothes in the background and I closed my eyes. I wanted to kiss her but didn't know how she would react.

  She rested her hand on my thigh and I took a stuttered breath. Okay. Yeah. I was going to kiss her. But when? I placed my hand on top of hers and she snuggled in. The movie wouldn't be over for a while. Should I wait?

  Before we got too comfortable, I sat up and left to my room. I opened the door and found Gio reading on his bed. He looked up at me, his head tilting to the side.

  "Stay here," I said. He peppered the air with fake kisses, mocking me. I raised an eyebrow and pointed to the floor. "Stay put. I mean it." I closed the door and went back to the living room. Selah was in the kitchen throwing away our trash. I sat down and waited for her to return.

  When she came back, she took a seat, but left an entire empty cushion between us. I grabbed the remote and turned the volume down.

  "Come here," I said.

  She looked at me from the corner of her eye and started playing with her earring.

  "Sey, come here."

  She didn't move. She just sat there, hands in her lap with her right knee shaking. "Javi ... I don't ... I want ... I've never ..." Pausing in thought, she lifted her hand and rubbed the loose thread of the center couch cushion. The movie flickered in the background as the scenes changed—different shades of light flashing across her face. And I waited. I waited for her to speak.

  Exhaling a long breath, her lips parted and she smiled—shy, curious and hopeful.

  "Are you going to kiss me?" she asked.

  "Not if you don't want me to." I pulled back and propped my head on my hand against the back of the couch. The movie transitioned to a song. Considering the situation, “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” had very poor timing. I found the remote and lowered the volume even more.

  Selah laid her head back and stared at the ceiling, her hands slapped over her eyes and she released a sound of frustration. "What if I suck?" she asked.

  "We practice until you don't?" I replied.

  "It's not funny. The only people who ever kissed me on the lips were my grandparents. Something tells me this should be much different."

  I stood and held out my hand. She accepted with hesitation and we walked away from the couch and into the dining room. Where I stood her against the wall and ran my fingers over her eyes, closing them.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "I'm trying to make this as easy as possible for you." I walked away to turn off all the lights, but left the TV on. I muted the sound and then threw the remote onto the couch.

  "This is making it easier?" Her voice was small and quiet in the empty space, but I could hear her breathing loud and clear.

  I grabbed her hand and laid it against my chest. The small changes in setting and the discussion had me on edge. My heart rumbled against the iron of my bones.

  "Now we’re even," I said.

  "You're nervous too?" she asked.

  "Of course. I like you. I don't want to scare you. I also hope I don't have bad breath." My words relaxed her, and her hand moved up from my heart and to my neck. Her fingers found the edge of my small, jagged scars and she ran the pad of her thumb over them.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I wish ... I wish I could help you carry it."

  I leaned in closer, the subtle light in the background making it easier to be brave. "Carry what?" I asked.

  "The pain."

  She moved her other hand to my neck and I closed my eyes. Her fingers traced the neckline of my shirt and then went up to my jaw. I held my breath and swallowed. My hands rested against the wall in fists—one on each side of her. I was afraid to touch her.

  "What's wrong?" she asked. Her words confused me.

  "Nothing," I replied.

  "You're shaking."

  I am? I opened my eyes and looked down at my legs. I was. I was shaking.

  Selah lifted her chin and smiled. "Kiss me," she said.

  I brought my hands down and held her face. She parted her lips to breathe and closed her eyes.

  And then I kissed her.

  It started off slow and controlled, but as time passed we relaxed and so did the kiss. And I began to understand the concept of want. Wanting. Being wanted. I wanted Selah. And even more than that, I wanted her to want me.

  She moved her hands from my face, down my neck and onto my chest. Her fingers trailed my sides and I pushed her against the wall. The desire to be as close as possible overpowering my thoughts.

  I brought my hands down to her waist and squeezed her hip. Our lips moved without any direction, following the lead of the other—we were both rendered blind—but didn't stop.

  Minutes, hours, days could've passed and I'd be none the wiser. She pulled away just as my hand began to move up her side—the pad of my finger grazing the top of her skirt. Her breathing felt loud and erratic. She rested her head against the wall and fisted her hands in my shirt.

  We both stood there, our lungs searching for air.

  Selah lifted her right hand and placed it on my cheek. Her thumb played with my lower lip, and I smiled in the dark.

  "I should get home," she said. "I don't want to, but I should."

  "Okay," I replied. Neither of us moved for another three minutes. Maybe it was thirty seconds. It felt like hours.

  I pushed myself away from her, my body rejecting the action as the distance between us increased. She stayed against the wall, staring at me with wide eyes. I could see her skin flush, even in the dark.

  "Will Gio be okay?" she asked.

  "Who?" I asked, my eyes focusing on her lips.

  "Gio. He's still here. Right?"

  I shook my head and blinked several times. "Oh. Yeah. He'll be fine. He sleeps here all the time."

  Selah smiled, pulled the edge of her shirt down and grabbed her purse.

  I locked the apartment behind me and we walked to the bus stop. Grabbing her hand, I began to realize what all the fuss was about. The only thing my mind could concentrate on was when I'd get to do it again. Kiss her. Touch her. Hold her.

  Be with her.

  Chapter 29

  Freeway

  (Selah)

  After that night, Javier and I spent whatever free time we could manage together, but our school days remained the same. Izzy brought us coffee, we chatted during lunch, and then parted ways at the end of the day. We did our best to keep my godparents and his mom out of it. Neither one of us wanted to cross that bridge.

  Today was Saturday and he had asked me to meet him at a nameless street corner. Javi took me plenty of random places so I never thought twice.

  The streets intersected at a freeway overpass. The walkway had a metal dome over it and was wide enough for five people to stand side by side. I knew why they designed it that way. To keep people in. It was a unique location choice considering the implication, even for Javi. Or more so especially for Javi.

  Hands covered my eyes from behind and I smiled. I could smell his clean boy scent immediately and sensed from the sound of his breathing that he had been running.

  "When are you going to let me drive you?" I asked.

  "Never," he replied.

  Stubborn. He was so stubborn. He grabbed my hand and walked me over to the center of the overpass. A wide ledge ran along each side, the original barrier preventing people from "falling" before they added the chain-link dome. He lifted me up and we both took a seat. I placed my fingers through the holes and clenched tightly. The cars raced by underneath us, their headlights a dim glow against the beacon of late afternoon sun.

  "So what are we doing tonight?" I asked.

  "Watching the sunset," he replied.

  Simple. I liked simple. The cars pushed the air arou
nd us and my hair blustered against the gusts.

  "Have you heard from your dad?" he asked.

  My hand, without my permission, moved to the pocket of my jacket. He had written me again today.

  "You have it with you?" he continued.

  "I haven't read it, Javi. I haven't read any of them since that last one. I don't want to be disappointed."

  "I can read it for you. Screen it for the bad, and share the good."

  I glanced at him, my fingers playing with the folded envelope. "Why do you want to read it so bad?" I asked.

  "Curiosity, I guess. I want to know what a father says to their child thousands of miles away. And what's so important that has him writing every week instead of coming home."

  I pulled the letter out from my pocket and traced the seal. "I'm afraid it will only be bad news. If it's so often, it could only be bad."

  "Or, it could be good news. Maybe he's been trying to reach you," he said.

  "He could've called my godparents," I replied.

  "Maybe it was personal."

  "Pfft. We don't have anything personal to share." I tapped the envelope against the edge of my fingertips. My heart contemplated ripping it into pieces and sprinkling it over the cars, but my mind, more rational, feared that reading it was necessary.

  I held the letter out to Javier and let him take it. At least he could read it for me and lessen the pain. Hopefully. He took the letter and opened it. Pulling out two sheets of handwritten notes, I watched his lips move as his eyes read.

  The edge of my skirt kept blowing up, and I pinched its hem to keep it down, tucking the excess under my shoe.

  "Is it bad? What does it say?" I asked.

  He kept reading but eyed me from the side. "For someone who doesn't care, you're awfully curious."

  "I didn't say I didn't care. I said I didn't want it to be bad. I didn't want to be hurt."

  Javier finished reading and then placed the letter back in its envelope. "Your birthday is on New Year's Eve?" he asked.

  "How did you—" I snatched the letter back from his hand and read it myself. When I was done, I ripped it in several pieces and tossed it over the edge. The pieces blew up into the sky as the air rushed up from underneath. They fell behind and around me. I couldn't get rid of him.