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Simone Elkeles - [Perfect Chemistry 03]

Page 18

by Chain Reaction (epub)

“You told me you were over D-Destiny,” Kiara tells Carlos. “But that’s obviously not true. I’m g-g-going back to Colorado tonight. I’m tired of waiting around for s-s-something that’s never going to happen.”

  “I was over Destiny the second you put those stupid cookie magnets in my locker in high school,” Carlos tells her.

  “I d-don’t believe you.”

  “I wanted to make it special for you, but what the hell … I might as well do it now.” Carlos takes a deep breath. “Marry me, Kiara,” he blurts out in front of everyone.

  “Why?” she asks, challenging him.

  “Because I love you,” he says, walking up to her and bending down on one knee while he takes her hand in his, “and I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up seein’ your face every mornin’, I want you to be the mother of my children, I want to fix cars with you and eat your crappy tofu tacos that you think are Mexican. I want to climb mountains with you and be challenged by you, I want to argue with you just so we can have crazy hot makeup sex. Marry me, because without you I’d be six feet under … and because I love your family like they’re my own … and because you’re my best friend and I want to grow old with you.” He starts tearing up, and it’s shocking because I’ve never seen him cry. “Marry me, Kiara Westford, because when I got shot the only thing I was thinkin’ about was comin’ back here and makin’ you my wife. Say yes, chica.”

  Kiara is crying now. “Yes!” she says.

  We all give our congratulations and talk to a couple of neighbors across the street who witnessed the scene, but when I turn back around I notice that Nikki disappeared.

  “Where’s Nik?” I ask Brittany.

  Brittany points to the house. “I asked her to go in your closet and get me one of your zippered hoodies. I’m freezing.”

  My closet? Oh, hell. I rush to my room and find Nikki searching for a hoodie hanging in my closet. If she sees the Glock …

  “Hey,” I say, standing in front of her. I start closing the doors, blocking her from my suit. Is it in the same spot as I left it? Did she find it? What the hell am I gonna say if she asks me about it? I could play dumb, but I’ve never been able to pull that off successfully.

  “Hey,” she says back. “Brittany told me to come in here and get a jacket for her.”

  “I’ll get one,” I say, steering her away from my closet.

  Nikki looks at me, confused. “What’s wrong?”

  I’ve got a gun stashed in my closet. “Nothin’.”

  “You sure? You look agitated.”

  “I am.” I want to bang my head against the wall, because she’s onto me. “I wanted to tell you somethin’.”

  “What?”

  Now I’ve got to come up with something on the fly. “I’m fallin’ in love with you,” I blurt out.

  Oh, shit. Did that really come out of my mouth? I’ve never said that to a girl before, and promised myself that I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it.

  The scariest part is that I did.

  34

  Nikki

  After Luis said the L word, I pretended that I heard Brittany calling my name and practically ran out of his room. I ignored the fact that he said it, and he hasn’t brought it up again.

  On Wednesday, I decide to go to work with him because we kind of need to talk about Sunday. I don’t want to make a big deal about it, but I don’t want to throw around the L word like Marco and I did.

  Luis now works for his cousin. Enrique’s Auto Body is located on the south side of Fairfield, on the corner of Washington Street and Main Street. It’s on an intersection where gang members used to hang out. This particular part of Fairfield was famous for weekly drive-by shootings when I was in grade school. Even though there was a front-page article in the local newspaper a while back about the absence of gang activity in recent years, I get an eerie feeling just being here.

  “This is it,” Luis says when we pull up to one of the three parking spaces out front.

  My eyes zero in on the old, random bullet hole marks on the side of the building as Luis leads me inside.

  A guy with tattoos running up and down his arms is bent over a car’s engine. He’s wearing a dirty T-shirt and pants that need a good washing. “Hey, ese,” the guy says.

  Luis motions to me. “This is Nikki.”

  “Encantado de conocerte, Nikki. Soy Enrique, el primo de Luis.”

  “She doesn’t speak Spanish, Enrique,” Luis tells him.

  Enrique laughs. “Sorry. You look Mexican.”

  “Not all Mexicans speak Spanish,” I counter.

  “All the Mexicans I know do,” he says. “Hell, a majority of Mexicans I know don’t even speak English.”

  “My dad thought it was more important to perfect his English. We don’t speak Spanish at home.”

  Enrique shakes his head, as if my dad’s theory doesn’t sit well with him. “To each his own.”

  Luis walks over and looks under the hood of the car Enrique was just working on. “Got a leaky gasket?” he asks Enrique.

  “Sí. It needs a tune-up and—”

  Enrique freezes when a girl walks in the shop. She looks like she’s in her twenties, and she obviously knows Luis, because she runs up and gives him a big hug the second she sees him.

  “You look like a man, Luis,” she says, then rubs the stubble on his face. “The last time I saw you, this was peach fuzz.”

  Luis brushes her hand away. “Thanks for embarrassin’ me in front of mi novia, Isa.”

  “Alex didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” she says. She looks surprised to see me standing a few feet away from him. “Oh, I didn’t see you there. I’m Isabel, an old friend of Luis’s brother.”

  I smile back. “Nice to meet you.”

  Enrique, who’s been silent since Isa walked in, wipes his hands on his pants. I see him swallowing a few times, as if he’s nervous. “Hi, Isa,” he says with a big grin on his face. “I’m glad you’re here. Really. I hardly ever see you.”

  “I’ve been busy working,” she tells him.

  “I know. I wish you came by more.”

  Isa bites her lip nervously. “My car has been revving when I press on the gas, as if it doesn’t want to go. I thought you could check it out.”

  “Absolutely,” Enrique says enthusiastically. “Give me your keys. I’ll take a look at it right now. Luis, head out to the back lot. I lined up cars that need oil changes.”

  Luis tells me to wait for him while he changes into his work coveralls. I chat with Isabel for a few minutes, until Luis comes back.

  “That’s definitely a fashion statement,” I joke, taking in his oversized blue coveralls covering him from neck to ankle.

  He points his thumb toward the back room. “You want to wear one? If you like ’em so much, I’ve got a spare in the back.”

  “No, thanks.”

  He pulls a toolbox off one of the shelves and motions for me to follow him. The sun is shining bright in the sky, and today it’s warm, although with the fall Chicago weather, you never know what each day will be like. I sit on the ground in front of the car Luis is working on and lift my face to the sun.

  “Is Enrique in a gang?” I ask so only he can hear. “I saw his tattoos.”

  “He’s an OG—an Original Gangster … not too active anymore.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugs. “It means he’s an old-timer, not a foot soldier. OGs like Enrique only get called on when there’s somethin’ big goin’ down. He stays pretty much to himself, but … you know … loyalty runs deep.”

  “He likes Isabel,” I tell him.

  “I know.” He sits on one of those rolling dollies and pulls out tools from the toolbox. “But he said she’s turned him down every time he asks her out. She’s kind of hopelessly pining for the guy she was in love with in high school.”

  A pang of regret that I spent so much time hopelessly mourning my doomed relationship with Marco settles inside me. It was a waste, and I c
an never get that time back. “Was it a bad breakup?”

  He stills. “They didn’t actually break up. He died.”

  “That’s so awful.”

  Luis doesn’t look at me. “He was Alex’s best friend.”

  “How did he die?”

  “He got shot.”

  Questions start swirling through my head. “By a rival gang?”

  “No. By his own gang.” He looks sad as he sits on the wooden dolly and stares at the ground.

  “I don’t get it, Luis. Why would someone even join a gang?”

  “Some people don’t have a choice,” he says before lying down on the dolly and rolling his upper body under the car.

  I tap his leg.

  He slides back out and looks up at me.

  “There’s always a choice. You didn’t join a gang even though your brothers did.” I lean down and kiss him. “You didn’t take the easy way out. I love you for that.”

  He raises an eyebrow when the L word escapes from my lips.

  Oops. That was not supposed to happen.

  “I didn’t mean love as in the ‘I love you’ kind of way,” I’m quick to point out, then slap my hand over my face to hide my embarrassment.

  He sits up and gently nudges my hand down. “Don’t worry, mi chava,” he says, then winks at me. “I know what you meant. Listen, you don’t know what my brothers went through. They did what they needed to do. Don’t judge them. You don’t know what it’s like to be us … to be poor and live in the middle of a street war. You never had to live with drive-bys and watchin’ your best friend die in your arms. It sucks.”

  “You’re right, I can’t imagine what it’s like. I’m just glad you’re not a part of it.”

  He nods, then spends the rest of the time working while I watch.

  “Can I help you?” I ask. “I feel bad just sitting here while you’re working.”

  His hand appears from under one of the cars. “Hand me the oil filter wrench.”

  I look at the tools laid out. Umm … they all look the same to me. I look back at his waiting hand. “You stumped me.”

  I hear him laugh. “Sorry. It’s the thing that looks like a claw with red rubber handles.”

  Considering there’s only one thing with red rubber handles, I have a pretty good idea which one it is. I pick it up and place it in his waiting hand.

  When he’s finished, he slides back out. “You remind me of my sister-in-law. She knows shit about cars, except how to put the key in the ignition.”

  I raise my hand. “I know how to do that.”

  “Please tell me your dad at least taught you how to change a tire.”

  “I don’t have to know how to change a tire.” I reach into my purse and pull out the handy card I always carry with me for those types of emergencies. “My dad got me a Triple-A membership for that.”

  He rolls his eyes. “You should know how to change a tire. Remind me to teach you one day.”

  We spend the rest of the time talking. It’s scary. The more I know about Luis, the more I like him. We’re so totally different, but I get him. We never run out of stuff to talk about, and even when there’s a lull in the conversation it’s not awkward.

  “Would you ever consider applyin’ to Purdue?” he asks me when he’s underneath the fourth car in line for an oil change.

  He already told me that’s his first choice of schools. “I don’t know. It wasn’t on my top ten list. Why?”

  “I thought maybe, you know, if you and I were still …” His voice drops off. “Forget it, Nik. I think I’ve breathed in too many oil fumes.”

  If we’re still together by the end of the year, it would be great if we could go to the same college. I feel so close to Luis right now, and we’re growing closer every day. I have to remind myself not to get sucked in.

  I need to tell him how I feel.

  I tap on his knee. “I think we’re getting too serious.”

  “You’re a pessimist,” he says, rolling out from under the car again. “Have some faith.” He pulls me down to him and caresses my back. I can feel the warmth of his hands penetrate through my shirt. “I have dirty hands,” he says. “Your shirt is probably ruined.”

  The sound of footsteps coming toward us makes us part.

  “What’s up, man,” Marco says. He’s standing with a huge scary-looking guy.

  I clutch Luis’s bicep tightly.

  “You gonna introduce me to your friend?” the scary guys asks.

  I can feel Luis’s bicep flex. “Nikki, this is Chuy. He’s a buddy of mine.”

  Chuy puts his cigar in the side of his mouth and stares at me long and hard. It makes me feel like he’s assessing my value. “You go to Fairfield High?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve never seen you around before.”

  “She lives on the other side of town,” Marco chimes in. “Right, Nik?”

  I nod.

  “Listen, guys,” Luis says. I sense that he’s deliberately taking the focus off of me. “If you’re lookin’ for Enrique, last I saw he was in the garage.”

  “I’m not lookin’ for Enrique,” Chuy says. “I was lookin’ for you, Fuentes. I’ve got a task for you.”

  I feel my heart stop beating as I realize what’s happening.

  Luis has been recruited into the LB.

  35

  Luis

  Nikki’s shocked face when Chuy said he was looking for me says she knows what Chuy’s visit is all about. She picks up her backpack and purse off the ground. “I need to go home. Now.”

  “What are you in a hurry for?” Chuy asks. “You have a problem with me talkin’ with your boyfriend?”

  “No, she doesn’t. Let’s talk inside,” I tell him. Damn. The last thing I want is Nikki to start asking questions again.

  Chuy takes his time as he disappears into the shop. Marco falls in line behind him.

  I turn to Nikki. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her. “It’s not what you think.”

  She’s looking at me as if I’m a stranger, not her boyfriend. “I want to go home.”

  “I’ll take you in a minute. Just … stay here,” I say. “Please.”

  I walk inside, anxious to get rid of Chuy and Marco. “Where did Chuy go?” I ask Enrique. Isa is still here, talking to him as he works on her car.

  “In my office,” Enrique says. He can’t say anything against Chuy because of his unwavering loyalty and honor he pledged to the Latino Blood a long time ago.

  Chuy is sitting at Enrique’s desk, like it’s his own. Marco is standing next to him like a bodyguard.

  I close the door just in case Nikki decides she wants to listen in on our conversation. “All right, what’s goin’ down?”

  Chuy taps his ash right on Enrique’s desk. “This guy owes me five Gs. I need you and Marco to collect it. Tonight.”

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. I scan the address. Augusta Lane. “That’s deep in Fremont 5 territory,” I tell him.

  “Yep.”

  All I can think about is the look of betrayal on Nikki’s face as I left her by the car outside. “I can’t go into F5 territory without gettin’ my head blown off,” I blurt out.

  “Yes, you can. And yes, you will.” He gestures to the door. “That honey of yours out there looks real nice. I could use a hot chick like that to sell for me over at DePaul. The college boys love to buy from pretty girls. Ain’t that right, Marco?”

  Marco nods. “That’s right. Mariana’s makin’ a killin’ over there.”

  This is bullshit. “Nikki’s off limits,” I say, loud and clear so there’s no mistaking that she’s never to be thought of as an asset to the LB. I’ll be damned if I drag Nikki into the LB.

  “It’s time I let you in on a little secret,” Chuy says, sitting up now. “There’s a safety-deposit box at Chicago Community Bank with your name on it. Once you turn eighteen, you have access to it. I’ve got the key.” He pulls out a shiny silver key from his pocket and
slides it over to me. “After your birthday you’re gonna get me whatever’s in that box. You come back from the F5 tonight and show me that you can handle the heat. Loyalty, Luis. You have to earn it, then you reap the benefits.”

  I pick up the key and put it in my back pocket. “Who put it in my name?”

  “That’s not important. What’s important is you provin’ your loyalty.” He lets out a stream of smoke. “You do this, and you’ll see more money than you ever dreamed of, kid.”

  Marco follows Chuy out of the office. I step in front of him before he reaches the door. “What do you have to do with this, Marco?” I ask him.

  “I just follow rules.”

  “That’s what you want to be, a follower?”

  “I’ve got no other choice, and neither do you. This is big, Luis. I know it. Chuy knows it. It’s about time you get with the program.” He pushes past me. “The sooner you break it off with Nikki, the better. She’ll just complicate things. I’ll meet you at the warehouse in an hour.”

  After he leaves, I scan the piece of paper with the address on it once more. My nerves are about to snap.

  Nikki is waiting for me in the garage, talking to Isa. I don’t want to lie to her any more than I already have, but I don’t want to risk losing her.

  “Hey,” I say as I walk up to her.

  “Take me home, Luis,” she orders. “I should have known not to trust you.”

  36

  Nikki

  Trust. He begged for my trust, when all along he was affiliating himself with the Latino Blood … with Marco. My heart isn’t melting. It’s breaking.

  I storm outside and straddle the back of his motorcycle.

  “Let me explain,” Luis says. I shake my head, unwilling to listen. My suspicions were right all along. “It’s not what you think.”

  Love. Is it just a word boys use to manipulate girls?

  “I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say,” I tell him. “If you won’t take me home, I’ll walk.”

  I start to get off the bike. He curses under his breath, then says, “You don’t have to walk. I’ll take you home.”

  I get on the bike again and grab the back instead of holding on to him. If I touch him, I could lose my nerve and let him explain away why everything points to him being a Latino Blood. I’m afraid I’ll believe him, because I want to believe him. It’s not what you think, he’d said.

 

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