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Simone Elkeles - [Perfect Chemistry 03]

Page 4

by Chain Reaction (epub)


  “I know,” Alex says. “I promise I have no other secrets.”

  “But I do,” she says. “As long as we’re spilling secrets I might as well tell you mine.” She looks down at her stomach and places her hand over her midsection. When she looks back up at him, her eyes are glassy. “Alex, I’m pregnant.”

  My stomach clenches in response.

  7

  Luis

  When I objected to the wedding, I didn’t know it would turn into the Fuentes Family Circus. I just wanted Alex to come clean to Brittany.

  That’s it.

  I had no clue my soon-to-be sister-in-law is pregnant. Oh man, seeing our ma’s face when Brittany announced the news was classic—her face turned bright red.

  I’m glad it’s over, though. Brittany said “I do” and my brother said “I do” and she didn’t toss the arras back at him, and Brittany Ellis is now Brittany Fuentes.

  My brother is going to be a father … man, I can’t believe it. Neither can he. After the initial shock, he hasn’t stopped smiling, and at one point he even knelt down and kissed Brittany’s stomach over her wedding dress.

  I look across the room at everyone dancing on the moonlit dance floor having fun.

  Mi'amá comes up to me. She’s still flushed, but I can’t be sure if it’s from the shocking news she’s going to be a grandmother, the fact that I saw my cousin Jorge make her do shots of tequila, or if the realization hit that she just married off one of her three kids.

  I’ve already danced with all of my female cousins at least twice. And Brittany’s single friends who didn’t bring a date. One girl was seriously on the prowl and grabbed my ass a few times while we were dancing. I think she’s one of Brittany’s sorority sisters. She has no clue I’m fifteen, because she asked me what frat I was in.

  I look over at Nikki Cruz, the one person who’s not having fun.

  She’s sitting at one of the tables by herself. I swear the chick looks like she’d be happier taking a final exam than being at this wedding.

  I head over to her. “You might want to think of smilin’ at some point tonight,” I tell her. “It’s a weddin’, you know.”

  She looks up at me with big eyes that I swear are made of brown silk. It’s dark out, but the lights make her eyes shine.

  “Smiling is overrated,” she says.

  “How would you know if you haven’t tried it?” I take the chair next to her and straddle it. “Come on, I dare you.”

  “Go away.”

  She’s bitter, and trying her hardest to have a shitty time tonight.

  I fold my arms on the back of the chair. “Did you know smilin’ reduces the level of stress hormones in your body like epinephrine and dopamine? Seriously, even a fake smile’ll help. Try it.”

  She ignores me, so I cup my hands over my mouth and do something I haven’t done in years—barnyard sounds. I start with my imitation of a sheep and end with an impressive moo. Girls used to eat it up when I did them back in fifth grade. They’d hang around me for entertainment, which is just what I wanted at the time. Guys who didn’t have any entertainment value were ignored. I was a kid who refused to be ignored.

  I still refuse to be ignored.

  I look at Nikki while I’m doing the sounds, but I get zero reaction from her. Nada.

  Until she scans me up and down like I’m a creature from another planet. “Are you for real?”

  “As real as they come, mi chava.” I stand and hold out my hand. “Dance with me.”

  She eyes my scabs and winces. “What happened to your hand?”

  “Long story involving me and a snake. The snake won.”

  She obviously doesn’t believe me. “Why don’t you dance with that girl over there?” she says, pointing to this girl I was introduced to named Yvette. She’s one of Brittany’s aunts’ cousin’s kids or something like that. She’s got dyed blond hair and a fake tan. Brittany said she’s on the swim team at school, and last year won state in the two-hundred-yard freestyle. Great body, but not my type.

  “You want me to dance with someone besides you?”

  “Yes,” she says, sticking her cute nose in the air like a princess.

  I shrug. “Suit yourself.”

  Whatever. If that’s the way she wants it, she can sit here and be miserable. I look at the dance floor. My three-hundred-pound aunt Rosalita is waving me over. Last time I danced with her, she stepped on my foot and almost crushed my bones.

  Just as I’m about to leave Nikki alone to drown in her own misery, Alex pats me on my shoulder. Standing next to him is Dr. Cruz, Nikki’s father.

  “Alex tells me you’ll be applying to Purdue to study aeronautics engineering after graduating high school,” Dr. Cruz says to me with the slightest hint of an accent.

  I stand. “That’s the plan, sir.”

  “Good for you. I really respect that you’re following in your brothers’ footsteps and working hard.”

  “I respect that, too,” the woman standing behind him says. Nikki’s mom, obviously. “It’s admirable. Boys who have drive and ambition will definitely go far in life.”

  I think I hear Nikki snort when I get her parental approval.

  Dr. Cruz pats Nikki on the top of the head. “I see you’ve met my daughter, Nikki.”

  “Definitely. I asked her to dance, but—”

  Dr. Cruz practically drags his daughter off the chair. “Dance with Luis.”

  “I don’t feel good,” she mumbles.

  “Come on, sweetheart. At least pretend to have fun.”

  “I don’t want to have fun or pretend to have fun, Dad.”

  “Don’t be rude,” her mother scolds, then urges her toward me. “Dance with the boy.”

  I hold out my elbow for Nikki to take, but she struts her hot little Latina body to the dance floor without waiting for me.

  “Good luck,” Dr. Cruz calls out to me.

  A fast song is playing, and Nikki starts dancing with a bunch of people randomly. I watch her as she pretends to loosen up. I know she’s faking it because she’s not really smiling … she’s not frowning, either. She’s just … here.

  I try and dance close to her, watching as her body moves to the music. She’s not a good dancer … she’s downright awful. She doesn’t seem to notice she looks ridiculous as she jerks her body like a robot around the dance floor. She won’t even look at me. In fact, she’s busy moving from group to group so nobody can claim her as their partner.

  Until a slow song comes on.

  Nikki stops abruptly. I reach out for her waist and gently urge her toward me. We’re face-to-face now. She looks up at me with long eyelashes that almost touch her eyebrows and eyes that I could melt into if she’d let me. There’s no mistaking the electricity pulsing through the air between us. If we got together, it would be explosive … in a really good way. She’s intimidating, which is sexy as all hell. I don’t get intimidated easily.

  “Hola, corazón,” I say, and wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  I expect her to smile.

  Or laugh.

  I don’t expect her to knee me in the nuts and say “Fuck you.”

  Which is exactly what Nikki Cruz does.

  8

  Nikki

  I didn’t mean to knee Luis in the nuts.

  Okay, so that’s not entirely true. I meant to knee him where it counts. I just didn’t mean to do it hard—in front of everyone, including the bride and groom. And my parents. And his mother. And everyone else who happened to be on the dance floor at the time.

  While Luis grabs his crotch and winces in pain, I walk away and head for the women’s restroom. Sprint is more like it. Maybe if I distance myself quickly, nobody will know that Dr. Cruz’s daughter is a complete mess. Fat chance, I know.

  I lock myself in a stall, content to stay here forever if it means I don’t have to face the rest of the world for a while. After about five minutes of pretending that I don’t exist and wishing I were a fictional character in one of Ben’s stupid v
ideo games, I think the coast is clear … until I hear the click of a woman’s shoes and a knock on my stall door.

  Knock, knock, knock. “Nikki, it’s your mother,” she says, her knuckles rapping on the door. “Open up.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  Her response is more knocking.

  I open the door slowly. “Hi,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “Don’t Hi me, young lady. You completely embarrassed me and your father out there.”

  “Sorry,” I say dumbly.

  “I’m not the one who needs an apology. What in God’s name came over you, Nikki?”

  “Nothing.” If I told her, then she’d know about my secret. I can’t tell her; not now when I’m trying to figure out what to do. “I just … it was an accident.”

  “An accident?” Mom asks, not convinced in the least. She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but hurting people and embarrassing yourself and your family isn’t the answer.”

  I know that. But I couldn’t stand there while Luis’s strong hands wrapped around my waist. I wanted to lay my head on his chest and pretend he was my knight in shining armor willing to avenge my honor. But that was a fantasy. When he spoke to me in Spanish, it reminded me too much of Marco and the biggest mistake of my life. I have no knight, no honor.

  “I suppose you want me to apologize.”

  She nods. “Yes, I do. Sooner rather than later.”

  I watch as Mom walks out of the room, leaving me alone. It’s her way of making the apology my own decision, as if she’s not forcing me to do it. I close the door again and lean my head back against the stall door.

  I know I’m being irrational. All Mexican boys aren’t like Marco, just like all Mexican American girls aren’t like me. Actually, most Mexican girls I know speak Spanish and have at least a few other Mexican neighbors. I don’t. Maybe I judged Luis harshly, but then again, I probably pegged him perfectly.

  I hear the door open and the tap-tap-tap of more heeled shoes on the bathroom floor.

  “Omigod, I can’t believe that girl who danced like a freak kicked Luis and left him on the dance floor!” I hear one of the girls say.

  I didn’t kick him. I used my knee, but I’m not about to clear up her little mistake. Not now, at least.

  “Did you get a glimpse of his lips?” the other girl says. “Yum.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “I know, right? I told him I’d help heal his wounds. I’m meeting him over by the pier in five minutes. I’ll bring back a report on how kissable his lips really are.”

  There’s a pause, so I peek through the little space between the door and stall. The Omigod girl is pushing up her boobs to make her cleavage pop out of her dress like butt cheeks. She turns to her friend. “How do I look?”

  I take that as my cue to come out of the stall and show myself. As soon as they realize they aren’t alone, they look at me, then at each other. I pretend to fix my hair and makeup in the big mirror right next to them.

  I decide to give them my two cents. Not because they asked for it, but because they need it.

  “Beware of guys who look like Luis,” I say. “Guys like that will use you, then leave you when someone else comes along.”

  Omigod girl puts her hand on her hip and looks me up and down. “What makes you think I actually care?”

  “I’m just trying to help. You know, girl bonding and all that.”

  “Girl bonding?” the girl says in a mocking tone. “I don’t bond with girls who dance like they’re having a seizure. And I don’t hate guys, like you obviously do.”

  Her friend is laughing now. Omigod girl joins her. They’re laughing at me, just like the girls were at Malnatti’s the night I saw Marco kissing Mariana Castillo. I shouldn’t care, but I do.

  I walk out of the bathroom, leaving Omigod girl and her friend to gossip on their own.

  I don’t hate guys. I’m just … cautious.

  My mom stops me as I pass her. “Did you apologize to Luis yet?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I was just about to,” I say quickly, then attempt a fake search for Luis.

  I wander up and down the beach, taking my time heading back to the party. The lick of the waves against the shore and the fresh smell of the air brings me back to the day I told Marco I loved him …

  The night I found out I was pregnant.

  I’d do anything not to see the disappointment and horror on my parents’ faces when they learn that their fifteen-year-old daughter got knocked up by the ex-boyfriend they’d never liked. At some point I need to tell them the truth: that I took a pregnancy test and it came out positive, but just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

  While the party is still going strong into the night, I sit on a rock far down the beach and look out at the seemingly endless expanse of water. I sit for a long time, listening to the faint music coming from the wedding. Every now and then I get a stomach cramp that hurts like crazy, but it slowly eases as I breathe in and out with smooth, controlled breaths.

  Enough sulking, Nikki. Get up and move on … literally and figuratively, a voice inside my head instructs.

  I stand up and head back to the party. As I’m walking and thinking about how I’m going to gather up the nerve to apologize to Luis, then go home and have the dreaded talk with my parents, I trip on something soft. I look down and realize I just tripped on clothes. Guy clothes … namely a tuxedo.

  I look around and see two silhouettes kissing in the water.

  Luis and Omigod girl. Her annoying squeal echoes through the air. I can tell she’s with Luis because … well, every time I glanced at him tonight, his image was etched in my brain. Even in shadow, I instinctively know it’s him.

  I can’t believe he can fool around with Omigod girl knowing that she’s just a one-night stand. I realize I’m angry with Marco and transferring my emotions onto Luis, but they’re too similar.

  Evil thoughts are running through my mind, like snatching his tuxedo so he’s left without clothes. I shouldn’t do it.

  But then again …

  Without really thinking it through for fear I’ll lose my nerve, I snatch up Luis’s tuxedo jacket, shirt, pants, boxers, and shoes. I take Luis’s wallet from his pocket and leave it in the sand. No use in having him think I stole his wallet, after all.

  I toss the clothes behind a rock and head back to the reception area. I wish I could see his face when he has to search, all naked, for his clothes. I left them where he can easily find them … in the light of day. He’s gonna have to work for it in the moonlight.

  Yes! For the first time in weeks, I feel empowered.

  “Yo, Nik,” Ben says. “Mom and Dad have been looking for you. We’re about to leave.”

  Mom and Dad say their good-byes to practically everyone at the wedding. I stand behind them and add my polite thanks to theirs, without a hint that I’ve just stashed Luis’s tux where he might not find it.

  “What were you doing on the beach?” Ben asks me as I get into Dad’s car.

  “Apologizing to Luis,” I lie. Obviously I didn’t do that much damage to his lower region if he was fooling around an hour later.

  Dad pulls out of the parking lot, down the winding driveway, past the house where the wedding was held, and then onto the small road leading away from a neighboring hotel the guests are probably staying at tonight. Ben, sitting beside me, is busy playing with some app on his phone.

  Looking out the window, I see a naked Luis holding his wallet over his crotch while trying to sneak into the hotel. He freezes when we pass, probably hoping to avoid being noticed.

  But I notice him.

  And he notices me.

  With a genuine smile that hasn’t crossed my face in forever, I roll down my window and give him a small private wave.

  Instead of being embarrassed, he drops the wallet and salutes me with one hand and waves back to me with the other.

  Which means he’s fully exposed.

&nb
sp; Don’t look at anything but his face, Nikki. Whatever you do, don’t give him the satisfaction of scanning down.

  In the end, Luis Fuentes gets the best of me. I couldn’t help but look. His body is leaner and more ripped than Marco’s, and seeing him in all his glory definitely showcases their differences.

  “I’m glad you apologized to Luis,” Mom chimes in quietly when we’re almost home.

  “Yep,” I tell her.

  Any tiny ounce of glee I might have fades as my stomach clenches again. And again. I feel like I’m going to throw up. A dizziness washes over me, and I close my eyes until Dad pulls into our driveway.

  Mom turns around and frowns when we’re home. “Don’t embarrass us like that again. You’re not trash, so don’t act like it.”

  I grab the handle and ease myself out of the car. A sharp pain in my side makes me wince. “I know,” I manage to say through clenched teeth.

  “You know how to act like a lady,” Mom says.

  I just need to throw up, then I’ll be fine. Ben has already booked it into the house. I can’t talk because I’m afraid I’ll lose the entire contents of my stomach right here.

  Mom sighs in frustration. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, young lady.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” I force myself to say. “I’m just … not feeling good.”

  I walk upstairs, but I stop when my stomach clenches and I keel over in pain. I suck in a breath, not being able to stand it. It feels like something is cutting me open from the inside.

  “You okay?” Mom asks as she comes up behind me. “What’s wrong, Nikki?”

  “I don’t know.” I look at her and know I can’t lie any longer. Especially when I feel a trickle of wetness running down my inner thigh. My heart is racing and I’m feeling faint. Another shot of pain runs right through me.

  My knees buckle, and I curl up in the fetal position at the top of the stars because it hurts so bad.

  “Raul!” my mom screams.

  My dad is kneeling at my side in an instant. “Nikki, where’s the pain?” he asks just like a doctor would, but with a hint of panic behind his words. He’s a surgeon, but I bet he’s not prepared for this.

 

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