Maldeamores (Lovesick) (Heightsbound #0.5)

by Mara White

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling more awkward than ever. “Guess I’ll go upstairs and wait for my mom to come home.”

  Luciano turns to look at me and gestures with his head again. On the table is a glass of water with a pill sitting next to it.

  “Oh, no thanks. I’m okay,” I say. “I don’t really feel anything.”

  “My mom always takes them. You’ll get cramps if you don’t. And if you’re anything like my mom then you’ll be down for the count.”

  I take the pill and it’s hard to swallow. I feel so grateful to Luciano but I also feel stupid and ashamed of what happened.

  “Do you think those guys will make fun of me at school?” I ask, terrified of his answer.

  “If they try to, Belén, I promise to knock all of their teeth out.”

  “I feel so stupid.”

  “Why? Every girl gets it. Better on the stoop than at school or far away from home with no tampons,” he says and shrugs like he’s some kind of period expert.

  “How come it’s no big deal to you?” I ask, stalling the goodbye.

  “’Cause I live with a woman. And it isn’t a big deal, Belén—it was bound to happen sooner or later. You’re not a kid anymore.”

  I say, “Okay, thanks, Luciano,” but it comes out in a whisper.

  He’s looking at the TV again and endlessly flipping the channels. I want to ask him about the kiss. I kind of want to kiss him again. But he seems to have lost interest in me so I leave without really knowing how to thank him.

  Three months later my period is yesterday’s news. I have pads and tampons, Advil and notes for gym at school. Luciano stayed true to his promise that no one would tease me. I’m not sure how he makes them listen to him, but they do and I guess that’s all that’s important. I think maybe it was good to get it in front of Luciano because at least he’s family. Maybe now he’ll take me more seriously since I’m a grown woman. But we haven’t been alone together without Mami or Titi. I want to tell him thank you and I really want to kiss him.

  One night after drama club when I unlock the front security door, I can smell weed in the hallway. I know what it smells like from more than one of Mami’s old boyfriends. The scent gets stronger as I climb up the stairs. When I get to the top floor, I can see that door to the roof is open and someone is smoking up there. I put my key in the lock and push open the door.

  “Belén!” I hear someone whisper. I jump when I hear it and pull the door closed again.

  “Lucky?” I ask, peering up at the dark door.

  “I’m on the roof, Cuz. Come look at the moon.”

  “Alone?” I ask, thinking he’s up there with a girl.

  “Yeah, fucking alone, now get your ass out here.”

  The door is like a hatch and you have to climb up a steel ladder. Our building has no roof access, so Lucky must have messed with the alarm. I push back the hatch and stick my head out the hole. He’s sitting on his butt near the hatch, staring up at the stars.

  He’s got a hollowed-out cigar beside him and a pile of tobacco. There’s a baggie full of weed and I really don’t want to get in trouble. But the desire to be near Lucky is stronger than my good judgment. There is no barrier on our roof and you could just roll over and tumble into darkness, split your head on the pavement. Become tomorrow’s hot news story.

  I push with my arms but I can’t seem to make the distance between the last rung and the opening. I grunt a little trying and Lucky stands up, wobbles over and puts both of his hands under my armpits. With me pushing and him pulling I make it through the open hatch. It’s almost quiet up here in the dark, so far away from the street. The night sky is open and clear and perfect for stargazing, that is, if you could actually see stars in Manhattan.

  “Want to smoke?” Lucky says, lifting a half-burnt blunt.

  I shake my head and he puts it back down and shrugs.

  “Why are you up here alone?”

  “Just needed some space,” Lucky says, his words sounding wistful.

  I understand completely because his mother is just like my mother and they can get out of hand when they get all up in your business. Lucky crosses his ankles and leans back on his palms, fingers splayed against the tar. He looks up at the sky and sighs and I look up with him.

  “This is nice. I feel like we haven’t hung out in years,” I say but then feel dumb because my words sound too honest.

  Lucky nods, then he looks at me and I look down at my hands.

  “I tried, you know, staying away from you after what happened.”

  I nod. I knew it was coming, but I still wince at the pain of his words. He’s been avoiding me for almost a year because I kissed him. He must think I’m disgusting.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, tears sliding past the tipping point and over the rim. I wipe them away with my hands and wonder if I should leave.

  “Don’t be sorry, Belén. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he says, pulling my hair away from my face. I look down and nod. I never should have come up here.

  “You’re beautiful and smart and good in every way. You’re perfect, Belén, and I shouldn’t—I was taking advantage of you.”

  “I’m not that innocent,” I say and look into his eyes. “And I wanted to kiss you.”

  “I don’t want to be the bad guy,” he says, and I don’t really know what he means. “You are the best part of my life and I want it to stay that way.”

  “You’ve never been the bad guy, Luciano. Ever. And for the record, I still want to kiss you.”

  Holy shit! I said it. It may have taken me ages but it bubbled its way to the surface.

  Lucky looks at me and the look is enough to stop the earth’s rotation.

  “I would do so many things to you if I could,” he says, leaning in and murmuring it straight into my ear. His lips brush against my earlobe and set off little points of shivering all over my body. They run up my shoulders and skim across the back of my neck. It feels like magic. Lucky has always been made out of magic for me. But right now he’s enchanted and so is this night. The shivers turn into points of heat and I can hear my own pulse beat drumming loud in my ears.

  “I want you to,” I say, surprised at myself for being so bold.

  I always say I want to save myself for marriage, that I don’t want to kiss a bunch of guys who all think they got one over on me. I don’t want to be the girl that’s talked about at school. I don’t want to end up pregnant and single-parenting like Mami and Titi. But what I do want more than anything is for Luciano to take me and use me like he uses those other girls. Even if he throws me away afterward, I still want to live the moments of being what he wants, to drive him crazy with my body, to have his tongue in my mouth. I want to feel him hard on my leg again and stroke him with my hands. I want the little moans and the fast breath, and his hips rolling and pressing. That was Lucky with his guard down. I’ll never shake the memory and I can’t stop myself from wanting it all over again.

  In a moment of impulsiveness I grab his hand and pull him hard so that we’re facing one another.

  “I want you to kiss me again, Lucky. Please?” It was almost a year ago, but right now it feels like we never left that kitchen.

  He raises an eyebrow and looks almost pained. He runs one hand through his hair while the other supports him, elbow locked, his head tipping so that his chin hits his shoulder. He hesitates so long I guess he really doesn’t want to. I’m an idiot. Now he’ll probably make fun of me. Avoid me forever.

  “Never mind,” I say and pull my feet in to stand. Lucky grabs my shoulder and forces me to the ground.

  “Don’t fucking tell me you want me to kiss you, Belén, and then run away!”

  “Never mind, I was wrong. It was stupid. I just got carried away.” I’m crying again. I feel so raw, like I just took off all my
clothes and he told me to get dressed again.

  Lucky pulls in a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’s sighing. He’s mulling it over. I can’t stand it anymore.

  I go in for the kiss.

  Boys are supposed to kiss girls, not the other way around. But I want it so bad. I can’t keep going without it happening. My lips are kissing virgins. Lucky’s are the only lips mine know—maybe that’s why they can’t stop wanting him.

  I’ve probably lost my mind. But somehow I’m confident that it will be good. I kissed him before and I remember what it was like. Every single second of it—every little tongue stroke, the suction, the velvet feel of his full lips sliding across mine.

  He pulls in air when I touch my mouth to his, but he doesn’t open his eyes. I’m on my knees and he’s still reclined on his hands. He moves his mouth to accept the kiss and his arms find their way around me. He squeezes me apprehensively at first, but then tighter and tighter as my mouth melts into his and we join together.

  Lucky sits all the way up suddenly and pulls me onto his lap. I can’t tear my mouth from his or open my eyes—this all seems too fragile. All I know is that I want this so badly it hurts. Instead of relief from the kiss, I feel trauma impacting my chest, already afraid of what will happen when it ends. I know that we’re family. I know that I shouldn’t want this. I know that Mami would kill me if she knew I initiated it—that I’m the bad one.

  I’m a dirty girl. Just like she always warned me.

  Lucky’s hand glides over my cheek and then around to the back of my head. He kisses me long and hard and my heart pounds in my chest. A great beast inside of me is slowly lumbering out of sleep. It yawns and stretches, taking hold of my whole body. The beast lunges forward, hungry for more of what Lucky can give. I don’t quite know what it is, but the beast knows exactly what it wants. My hands are on his chest, in his hair, searching his whole body for an answer. Is this where the world ends? Because what could possibly happen after this?

  I whimper and then moan and my hand goes to his fly. I look down at it and back out of the kiss. I don’t think I want sex; I don’t want to touch his penis, but I do need to know that I turn him on. I’m desperate to confirm that I am as able as all of his other women. He looks at me with sleepy guilt, a lusty, sultry stare. His eyes say dirty. His eyes say he does want to go there.

  Lucky guides my hand over the bulge in his jeans and I lunge at him, taking his mouth again. It’s my tongue that dives in first, using suction to pull his into my mouth. Another noise releases from deep inside me. The beast has woken up and taken over completely; I’m no longer the same little girl in the kitchen, waiting for him to touch me. Even though I feel confused, my instincts know what to do. I pull down on his zipper and pop the button of his fly. I put my hand inside his boxers and seek the heat of his penis. I gasp when I grab it and he moans into my kiss. I never want to feel another one. Just Lucky. Only this.

  “Belén,” he groans, and my name sounds so dirty on his lips.

  He’s up on his knees, then he’s over me and lowering me back onto the black tar of the roof. It’s soft and spongy-feeling and still holds heat from the sun. My legs spread involuntarily, welcoming his body to mine. As soon as our bodies come together, I press my groin into his. It feels so right. It feels so good. How could something that feels like this be wrong?

  “Belén,” he says again against my lips, never breaking our kiss. I know he wants to tell me no. Remind me that we are cousins. I only want to hear yes from him. With his mouth and with his body. I am dying for him to want me. I’ll do anything for him to give this to me—for him to feel this as much as I’m feeling it. I grab the sides of my white T-shirt and yank it over my head. His eyes say, “What are you doing?” but then he spots my white cotton bra that pushes up my breasts. I can see the battle plainly, playing out on his face.

  “This is for you, Lucky. I want to give it to you.” I’m talking about my virginity, my body, my heart, but I can’t articulate the words.

  I want his lust to win over every other thought. I want Lucky to take me, to see him lose control. To have him inside of me. I unbutton my shorts and wriggle them down lower on my thighs.

  “Please, Lucky,” I whisper.

  “Please, what, Belén? Christ!”

  “Please don’t tell me no,” I say, rubbing my cotton-panty-covered groin right into his bulge. First, he shakes his head like a drunkard searching for sobriety. Then, he shakes his head angrily and really looks at me.

  He pushes back until he’s sitting and bends his knees in, his elbows coming to rest on them. He pushes his face into his hands and then rubs his eyebrows with the heels of his palm.

  “FUCK!” he says, shaking his head and looking up at me.

  I have my T-shirt clutched to my chest. I’m soaking up my tears with it while I try to gain control. I’ve been rejected and I’m still overflowing with things I want to say, things I want to do.

  “I—I got carried away, Belén. I let it go too far.”

  “I wanted you to. I want it to be with you, Lucky. Nobody else.” I’ve spent a year waiting for this moment. Over three hundred days hanging on to that single kiss in front of the refrigerator.

  “No, Belén. It can’t be me. Just keep saving it like you wanted to. Wait for the right guy. It will happen sooner than you think.”

  “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you!” I plead, balling my fists at my sides. How can he think I would ever let anyone else touch me like this? He looks over his shoulder and shakes his head in frustration. He can’t say it back. He doesn’t feel the same way I do. Why should he? He’s got Yari and plenty of other women. Maybe they are sexier and do things better than me. Maybe he just doesn’t want to because he thinks I’m disgusting.

  I want to say something but all that comes out is a little yelp and an exhale of air. I turn from my cousin and run back to the hatch. Reversing easily back inside, as soon as my feet hit the first rung, I streak down the ladder. I yank my shirt over my head and slip inside my apartment and softly close the door so as not to wake up my mother.

  Chapter 9

  Luciano dates lots of girls, and by a lot I mean tons. He dates girls who are seniors, juniors like Yari and some who already graduated but who are, for whatever reason, still hanging around. I don’t date anyone. But I get such great test scores that in eleventh grade, I’m taking almost all AP classes.

  I spend my nights studying and Luciano spends his hanging out with friends in the neighborhood or making out with girls, probably going all the way with them. I see him sometimes when I come home late—on the stoop, in the hallway, the corner—in any old place. Sometimes it’s with Yari, which still makes me uncomfortable. Whenever we hang out all she wants to do is talk and complain about Luciano. I’m sure he has sex with her while he’s still doing all the rest. I tell Yari these things but she still doesn’t listen to me. I hope he doesn’t get somebody pregnant because Titi would be so pissed.

  I’m working like crazy to get into college. And Luciano is still the only boy I’ve ever kissed. Even sadder than that, Luciano is the only boy I’ve ever wanted to kiss.

  Titi says Lucky is going to join the service, maybe the army or the marines. She says it’s a good way to see the world. I think it’s a good way to get killed, but Mami told me ten times to leave my opinion out. So I don’t say anything when we talk about the future around Titi and Lucky. He works out all the time so he looks like a grown man. I’m not a perv for saying that because everyone says it. Lucky has bought beer before and no one asked him for ID—they just assumed he was old enough.

  So Lucky will go off to the service and I’ll go to college. Maybe he’ll marry one of these girls before he goes so he can have a family to come back to. Yari calls the other girls his whores and gets jealous of all of them. I don’t want to be rude so I hold myself back from pointing
out the obvious. Lucky and I don’t talk much. We are uncomfortable when we’re alone. We don’t even hug at family gatherings anymore or walk each other to school.

  “Belén!” Mami screeches and I look up from my homework. We’re meeting Hemi and her kids in Times Square to get dinner and watch a movie. If Hemi is coming that means Mami is paying and she’s already in a bad mood. I set my alarm clock now in case I’m too tired to do it when we get home.

  Mami is all dolled up in a tight black dress and heels. I have on jeans and a sweater and fuzzy socks to keep my feet warm.

  “You look great!” I say, smiling at her reflection.

  “Help me with my zipper, baby,” Mami says.

  I move her hair before zipping her up. She smells like baby lotion and hairspray and I’ve got an overwhelming urge to hug her.

  “I can’t believe this time next year we’ll be getting ready for your graduation. I’m so proud of you, Belén. We always knew you were smart, but you exceeded everybody’s expectations.”

  “I just study a lot, that’s all. Mami, don’t embarrass me. And don’t say that kind of stuff in front of Tía Hemi.”

  “Oh, now I’m not allowed to be proud of my only daughter?” She takes out the two remaining curlers on top of her head and slams them on the counter.

  “No, you can be proud, but don’t overdo it. You know my cousins are the last people who want to hear it.”

  Mami takes a black eyeliner and darkens the inner rims of her eyes. I love it when she does that because it reminds me of special occasions and how much I loved it when I was little when Mami got all dressed up to go out to a party.

  “Luciano always likes to hear how you’re doing,” Mami says. She has hair pins in her mouth and she’s pinning back one side of my hair.

  “Luciano hates me because I’m not as cool as he is,” I say flatly, pushing away her hand. “I’ll just wear it down. Come on, we’ll be late and Hemi and the kids will have already eaten half of the restaurant.”