I could barely hear them, anyway, although I could tell it was about something serious. Finally, I heard a few words: “luchar” and “isla” and “Kit”- fight, island, me. Unfortunately, this made me even more confused because it sounded like they thought I needed more training to ... fight? Fight who? I’ve already spent almost my whole life training and now they want me to have more training to fight those jerks on the foothills? Could they really be that tough? Hadn’t I had enough training to deal with them?
The muffled voices quieted and then I heard “Catalina!” It was my abuelo.
My stomach sank and I felt my face reddened from embarrassment. I always hated the fact that I was so pale my emotions could paint themselves right on my body. I could go from white to red in just a few seconds. Then, I usually reddened even more because I was embarrassed by being embarrassed so, when I stood up, I was the color of a cherry tomato.
What was worse than my redness was that I had been caught! I thought I might throw up, especially because Braith was there and I looked even more childish and idiotic than before. I glanced at him and Braith smirked this I-want-to-laugh-at-your-petty-problems kind of smirk, like he was so amused by me getting in trouble like some little kid. His hotness factor was definitely plunging.
Thankfully, no one else seemed bothered by me snooping. I was worried my abuelo would scold me, but he pretended like nothing was wrong. “We gonna get you ready for the party,” abuelo said. His English was pretty good, but he had a heavy accent. “You gonna eat a little now, right? We gonna have lunch then your friends come later, right?” I nodded. My face, I’m sure, was still a million times redder than I wanted it to be. Abuelo ignored my color and didn’t mention my eaves dropping. “Come on, now, you eat with us.” My papá pulled over a chair and I crowded in between him and my abuelo. “Feliz cumpleaños, mi pequeña estrella,” abuelo said and kissed my forehead and cheek. I smiled. “We spend your birthday together today and then tomorrow get to work,” he said. He grinned at me and took a large bit of the empanadas my mother had prepared. She’s not a Latina, but she had been around my grandmother long enough to learn a thing or two about Spanish cooking.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” I asked. I looked specifically at Heike, because I felt he was somehow the cause of all this.
Heike met my gaze. “I promise you, Katja, you and your papá and I will talk tomorrow. I just want you to enjoy today,” he said. His gaze turned down, as if he were ashamed. “As much as you can, enjoy today.”
I thought the lunch would be really awkward - my biological father, my papá, my mother, my abuelo, and eventually my abuela and little sister joined. Surprisingly, though, the lunch was nice. I sat back and listened while the older folk chatted and laughed for an hour, going between a myriad of languages that I didn’t know my parents or grandparents even knew. Every so often, Braith chipped in some Aussie gem that everyone laughed at. I found him to be extraordinarily conceited and I refused to look at him much, especially since I was still really embarrassed from the eavesdropping. Also, he was really annoying.
At one point, when neither English nor Spanish had been spoken for quite some time, I did look at Braith. He seemed to be following just fine, but he shrugged and smiled and winked at me. God, would the winking never end? Any man that winks that much must have something seriously wrong with him.
I moved my attention back to my parents. I thought my papá would feel awkward around Heike, but they seemed incredibly close. In fact, both of my parents, who didn’t have any close friends, adored Heike and, as far as I could tell, there were no hard feelings between any of them. I was a little miffed at Heike being so ... accepting, I guess, about my close relationship with my papá. It sounds terrible, but I wanted Heike to be jealous and then I’d be the bigger person and maybe I would say, “You know what you did was wrong, but maybe we can be friends
Yeah, okay, I’ve played this out in my head a few times, but he seriously had no emotions towards me or towards my relationship with my dad. He even referred to me a few times as “Menno’s kid” and to my sister and me as “Menno and Molly’s girls.” It was getting on my nerves and, I know it shouldn’t and you’re going to judge me for being so jealous, but I just wanted answers. Like, maybe, where he was for 17 years!? Oh, and what the hell was going on with those weird guys in the mountains?
Just as my annoyance started to brew, my friends began to arrive. I heard the doorbell and excused myself from the table. At the door was Allie. Thank goodness Allie was the first to arrive. She would be able to get my mind off things.
“Allie,” I whispered once she was inside. “You will not believe the weird day I’m having.” Her eyes grew wide and she grinned as she looked at something behind me. When I turned, I saw Braith and had to sigh. Allie was an overly sexualized adolescent and I knew I had lost any chance of a normal conversation when she spotted Braith.
“How you doing?” Braith smiled and sauntered up to Allie. “I’m Braith.” He extended his hand.
“Braith, what an interesting name,” she said. She grasped his wrist and slowly moved her hand to his fingers for an oddly sexual handshake. “I’m Alejandra.” The name rolled from her mouth as her tongue vibrated off her palate. They looked so intense I feared they might devour each other.
Allie was one of my dearest friends but sometimes she could be a little on the boy crazy side. She was all women, curves and nice breasts and legs and a tiny little waist, like a Latina Marilyn Monroe. And she was gorgeous, model kind of gorgeous and she wore the prettiest clothes that emphasized her tiny little waist and right then she was wearing this yellow mini-dress with a black, lacy camisole that looked amazing with her darker skin coloring. She’s a sex goddess and she knew it and, more importantly, she knew how to show it off. Sometime in the last few years all of this happened to her and, when she realized how hot she was, all of her goddess sex powers blossomed.
I was jealous and I wasn’t afraid to admit it. I knew I wasn’t beautiful or curvaceous or sexy. I was this gangly, awkward girl that had the body of an ironing board. And I had none of those goddess sex powers, although I did know of several defense moves to immobilize a man on the ground. So, she got sex and I got ... Asian defence techniques. I’m sure, one day, I won’t be jealous.
Allie and I had always been kind of on the popular side, it was just different when we got to high school. Before, we were athletic and active and pretty smart. In high school, everything was different. Popularity was judged less on what you could do and more on who you would do. And, where Allie has blossomed into - cue eye roll - Alejandra, I sort of devolved into a yoga-pant and oversized, t-shirt wearing hobo. The last few years I had been pouring more of my attention onto training than on my looks because, well, I’m more interesting in training than talking about boys and clothes all the time.
Okay, that’s a lie. I love talking about clothes and boys and shoes and dancing and listening to music and planning pretend weddings with my friends. But, I don’t know, I’m just totally self-conscious. I didn’t like anything about myself and it was hard being among beautiful people when I was so ... plain. It was easier to accept myself as a fighter than as a woman. My friends are all gorgeous. Me? I’m an asexual, pale giant.
Allie and I were growing apart for awhile. We became so different. She was crazy into boys and was never without a male companion at her side and I couldn’t have cared less about dating, but we sort of became closer when I started dating Roberto a few months ago. She started giving me some fashion and make-up advice and she made us go on some double dates. And she was really supportive after Roberto cheated. I wasn’t in love with him or anything, it’s just I already felt like an outsider - being a peasant among Latina Goddesses can
do that to a gal - so Roberto sort of confirmed what I already felt when: I wasn’t worth anyone’s time. I was weird looking, I knew I was weird looking, and there was no way I could hold onto a boyfriend unless I was phenomenal in bed, and I wasn’t willing to sleep with him just to keep him. He was a scum bag for cheating, but I had seen myself in the mirror and I knew the kind of girls men like. I was not one of those girls. It was difficult for me to come to terms with. I wasn’t beautiful or sexy or stylish or cute and I would never be one of those girls who got a guy, at least not without some serious plastic surgery.
I was glad, though, that his cheating brought Allie and me closer even though I knew ... I knew Allie was the one he cheated with. I was really hurt when I first found out, but she’s so much more of a woman than I was that I didn’t hold a grudge for long. She was so beautiful and I basically had the sex appeal of a stick figure. Yeah, it was a bitchy thing for her to do and I resented her just the tiniest little bit, but I still loved her. And it wasn't great that it took an asshole boyfriend to bring us together, but it was great that we were friends again.
But, seeing how Allie interacted with Braith made those feelings of resentment rise up again. How did Allie so effortlessly flirt by hardly saying a word? How did she just exude sex? And Braith, god, he did the same thing.
“May I say that outfit is stunning on you, Alejandra,” Braith said. Their hands were still clasped, I felt, for an abnormally long time. Then, he took Allie’s hand and lightly brushed his lips against it.
She giggled and blushed. “Why, thank you, Braith.” I wanted to gag. “And how do you know our little birthday star?”
“I’m an acquaintance of her father’s,” Braith said. “It’s my first time in Arizona. Kit was showing me around the Catalina Foothills today, isn’t that right, Kit?” Even though his smile never faltered, he glanced at me and I could tell his eyes told me to shut up. I guess I wasn’t supposed to mention what actually happened in the mountains. He was there to make sure I kept my trap shut.
For a second I considered not listening - who was he to tell me what I could and couldn't say? - but, really, I kind of wanted to forget about it and I didn’t think Allie would care, anyway. She was too busy staring at Braith’s crotch. “Yeah, all around the foothills,” I said.
“Wow, that’s so great. Our little estrella here is quite the athlete, you know, so you’ll be up climbing mountains in no time,” she giggled and stepped closer to him. She pressed her breasts against his arm and chest. “But I’m a pretty good climber, too,” she breathed. “Maybe we could head up together one day.” She bit her lower lip and grinned. Things were getting awkward really fast.
“Ah, Alejandra,” my abuela said. She swept into the room like The Good Witch of the North and broke the sexual tension. Allie quickly stepped away from Braith and clasped her hands behind her back. My abuela grinned. “You will help Catalina into her gown, no?”
“Oh, of course, Abuela Chavez. She’s going to look beautiful,” Allie said. She grabbed my hand and we walked up the stairs to my bedroom. She swayed her hips emphatically and I couldn’t help but gawk at her butt. She must have worn padding.
In my bedroom, Allie threw herself on my bed. “Oh my gawd is that guy gorgeous or what? Holy shit, where did you find him?”
“He’s a friend of my father’s,” I said. “He’s kind of annoying.”
She tsked at me. Allie wouldn’t hear of me saying a gorgeous guy was annoying! “You know how to make him shut up, don't you?" She licked her lips.
"God, Al, give it up," I said.
"To him, I would," she sighed. I groaned, but I knew I had walked into that one. "He’s absolutely stunning. And totally ripped. Can you imagine the sex?” She turned over and hugged my pillow. “He’s probably hung like a ...”
I spun away from my gown. “Alejandra Pérez!” I said. “Do not say that kinda stuff about weird men you just met. He could be a psycho murdering pedophile for all you know. And, come on, I’d appreciate you not thinking about sex while you’re on my bed caressing my pillow.”
“Wait, so is he a psycho that murders pedophiles or is he just a psycho murdering pedophile?” Allie grinned and I rolled my eyes. She was being especially glib that evening. “You don’t think about sex cuz you’re a virgin. At least get a vibrator,” she smirked. “You can use it to fantasize about Braith,” she added, a dreamy smile spread across her face. “I sure will, tonight.”
“Ugh, Allie, please stop thinking about penises for one minute!” I said. I tossed my makeup bag at her. “We’re having dinner with a bunch of old people in, like, two hours. You have to make me decent.”
It took about an hour to make me look acceptable by Allie’s standards. By then, three of my other Latina Goddess friends had arrived. Jennie was the head cheerleader at the school. Her boobs were as perky as she was, which gave her an undeserved sense of entitlement and she sort of ruled the roost of hens around our school. I didn’t take any of her crap but, surprisingly, we were pretty good friends. Eloisa was Jennie’s shadow, second top cheerleader and even more perky than Jennie. She was annoying, but she followed Jennie everywhere so I had to take her when Jennie came around.
Finally, there was Mercedes. She was my best forever friend and I loved her more than anything. As Allie and I began drifting farther apart, Mercedes and I had grown closer and she was truly my best friend. Though she was the most beautiful one of them all, the one that every guy drooled over, the one that had the perfect body and perfect hair, she never let it get to her head. Sadie loved me despite my many great and terrible faults.
As Allie made me look more acceptable, the girls sat on my bed discussing the amazingly hot guy downstairs and thought I was so rude for keeping him a secret “all this time.” I couldn’t tell them I had only kept him a secret all the four hours that I knew him as that would increase the questioning and questioning would lead me to spill my guts. Not that it would matter. The more I went over the day’s events in my head the more surreal it seemed. Weird, yes, but were we in danger? I wasn’t sure.
Allie finished my makeup and redid my hair because she kept saying “it looks like an old lady did it” and I finally relinquished my tresses to her. Then I finally put on my blue, tulle gown and, holy bananas, it was bigger and bluer and tullier than I had remembered. It was way worse than I had anticipated, especially after the gloves and crystal tiara.
“How do I look?” I asked when I was finished dressing. I knew how I looked: like a big, blue puff ball - but the girls grinned their approvals.
“Ella está buena,” Mercedes giggled.
“No, I know I do not look sexy,” I grumbled.
Sadie sighed. “Estás hermosa.” I knew I wasn’t beautiful, either, so I just rolled my eyes. There was no use arguing with Sadie. “Dance with me tonight, my darling?”
I smiled. “Of course.” I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked horrible. I hated that dress and I hated feeling like that. It seemed to highlight every one of my faults - my giant shoulders and biceps that made me look like a Quarterback, my neck that looked like it should be on an ostrich, my shoulder blades that stuck out like wings, and my barely there boobage. My friends wore sexy, short skirts that showed their golden thighs and clung to their womanly curves, stilettos that elongated their legs, tops that highlighted their waists and boobs, makeup that turned them into gorgeous women. And me? I was a giant in a tulle poof.
It was difficult for me to see how much they had all changed and how much I had not. Two years ago we all went through our Quinceañera celebrations. Big ball gown, gloves, horrible shoes, the whole sha-bang. It was once for them, but it’s every year for me. The Quinceañera was supposed to welcome us into womanhood. They have embraced it, but I’m stuck as a perpetual yoga-pant and oversized shirt wearing slob that is occasionally forced to wear ball gowns. A pig in lipstick is still a pig.
I felt really awkward and awful and wrapped a shawl around my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Mercedes asked. She got up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Oh my god, Kit, look at your guns!” She squeezed my biceps and then felt my stomach. “Holy shit, Cat, where did this muscle come from?”
“You haven’t felt me up in awhile,” I laughed. “Sadie?” She smiled at me in the mirror. “Do I look okay?”
“You’re gorgeous,” she said and kissed my cheek.
“No I’m not. I look like a thirteen-year-old boy and you, like ...” I trailed off. I was angry at myself for being so jealous of my friends. Sadie had the perfect body, great confidence, and fantastic boobs. I freely admitted it: I had tremendous boob envy. I waited so long for my boobs to make an appearance, but they just sort of stopped growing and now they look like aspirins on a washboard.
“I’ll trade you boobage for your six-pack,” she laughed. Then, she went around to the other side of the bed. She brought out a present and handed it to me. “After dinner, you’re going to change and wear this. Don’t protest. You’re wearing it.”
She grinned as I opened the present. I pulled out a bright purple and pink tiered dress. Even without trying it on I knew it was short – shorter than anything I had ever worn – and part of the body and skirt were sheer. I knew my papá would hate it.
“Oh my gawd,” Jennie said. “That’s so hot. You’re going to look fabulous in that color, Cat. I couldn’t pull that off. It wouldn’t look right with my darker skin.” She beamed. Sometimes Jennie could be a bitch but she knew how self-conscious I was and could be really supportive when the mood struck. “Maybe even get a little attention from that guy.” She gestured downstairs by nodding her head to my door.
God, all they thought about was boys. And Braith was way too old for us. We’re 17 and he was probably in his mid-20s or something. They can drool but, come on, he was too old.
Kindling (The Hunter Trilogy Book One) Page 4
