Haters

by Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez

  Chris pulls my hands and starts to walk backwards, kissing me. “Come with me,” he says through the kisses.

  I follow him through the kitchen, across a family room, up the stairs, down the hall, to his room. The whole upstairs smells good, like citrus and clean laundry. Chris’s room smells like wood and men’s cologne. It’s a big room, with a king-size bed and nice dark brown furniture. He’s got a couple of posters on the walls, but also framed paintings. Real art. And the few boys’ rooms I’ve seen haven’t been this clean.

  Chris closes the door. Then he takes me to the bed. We sit on it and begin to kiss again. The kissing intensifies, and our hands begin to wander. He touches my shoulders, my collarbone. He stops kissing me to look at me. The grin is gone, replaced by a very intense expression.

  “You are so beautiful.” His hand slides from my collarbone to my breast, and he sort of traces it with his fingertips. “Wow,” he says. “Amazing.”

  I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his hand on me. I feel like a coil that’s being wound up, tighter and tighter, warmer and warmer. He holds me tight, and I think I’m going to die of wanting.

  I grab Chris by the shoulders and push him down onto the mattress. He lies back and smiles. “I like an aggressive woman,” he says. I can’t control myself now and sit on top of him. I hold his hands up over his head, press them into the bed, and lean down to kiss him. My hair drapes across us, and I can feel his hips start to move beneath me. I feel like I’m going to explode. We continue to kiss, and our bodies move against each other like two sticks rubbing themselves into a fire.

  Chris sits up a little and rolls me onto my side. He’s on his side now, too. We’re facing each other and kissing again. He takes my top hand and moves it down, to there. On him. It. I can feel it through his shorts, like a brand-new tube of toothpaste.

  “Yeah,” he says. He uses his free hand to unbutton his shorts and then places my hand inside them. It’s weird, this thing that boys have. It’s hard but soft at the same time? I glance down and see it peeking up at me. I laugh.

  “Hey,” he says. “No laughing.”

  “No!” I say. “Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just, he looks so hopeful.” I don’t know why that seems so funny to me. But it does.

  Chris grins. “Oh, he is. He’s very hopeful.”

  I hold it like a baton, and he puts his hand over mine and moves it up and down.

  “I’ve never done this,” I say.

  “I’ll show you,” he says. “Just like that. Not too hard.”

  My heart is pounding. I can’t find enough air. Chris kisses me, and then he’s lifting my shirt and kissing my chest. His lips are soft and warm, and I feel muscles in different parts of my body contracting without my permission. I have never been this excited in my life.

  Suddenly I feel his fingers fiddling with the snap and zipper of my pants. I place my hand over his. “Don’t,” I say. I don’t mean it, though. I really want him to keep going. I just don’t trust myself to know when to stop.

  “Okay.” He backs off instantly but looks at my eyes carefully. I have the eyes of a liar, I’m sure of that.

  “You sure?” he asks. Very perceptive, this Chris Cabrera dude.

  “I’m a virgin,” I tell him.

  “That’s okay,” he says.

  “Are you?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “Paski, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”

  I kiss him again, and take his hand, and put it back on my zipper. I open my eyes and see him smiling, like he finds me amusing and sexy all at once. He gets the zipper down without too much effort, and then his fingers sort of scoot down, past my underwear, until they’re there. There, there. Yikes.

  “Do you want to take this further?” he asks. He’s panting a little bit, and his face looks red.

  Uhm, yes. Yes. I can’t think of anything I want more than to do that right now. But I remember the talk I had with my dad, and all the things he told me about being smart, making good choices. Going further would so not be a good choice. Not now.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Okay. That’s probably the best thing anyway.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  All at once he shudders, and my hand gets very, very wet and oozy. “Oops. That’s why,” says Chris with an embarrassed smile. He takes my hand off him and wipes it on his comforter. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  He kisses me again and presses me down until I’m lying on my back. “Okay,” he says. “Now, you just lie back, relax, and let me return the favor, okay?”

  Oh. My. God. I try to relax as his hands wander. He asks me if he’s in the right spot and asks me to tell him how to do it the way I like it. I tell him, and, unsurprisingly, he’s a fast learner. Before I know it, I’m shuddering, too. It is the finest convulsion I could imagine, like being wrapped in a red velvet blanket on a cold day.

  He grins at me. “Amazing,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I say, out of breath and entirely, stupidly happy. “Pretty much.”

  40

  It’s the day before the big race, and I have an appointment to hang out with my new “best buds” at the mall. How is Jessica getting around the mall? I don’t exactly want to go, but I can’t say no being part of the “corporation” and all. I couldn’t figure out what to wear, so I’m running late. I stood there staring into the deep dark shadows of my closet and tried to come up with just the right thing. When Jessica doesn’t like what one of “us” is wearing, Haley told me, she is known to ask us to go home and change, in the name of the corporate image. In the end, I decided on a tight bright green Urban Outfitters T-shirt with a rainbow slashed across the front, a maroon zip-front hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of Seven jeans. I want to look good enough not to get sent home, but not so weird I don’t feel like me.

  So, anyway, I just got here and rushed to the food court. I spy Jessica in her wheelchair. Haley and Brianna sit with her at a table meant for handicapped people. Jessica wears a fur hat. Haley is in a bandana skirt, wraparound, with a tank and sparkly shawl. Brianna wears shorts with UGGs. Not sure I like the look, frankly. But trendy, for sure. They’re drinking smoothies and looking at some shoes inside a Steve Madden bag. I approach, and they smile and wave like we’re best friends. I feel happy when I see Haley, but scared at the sight of Jessica. Haley gets up to give me a hug.

  “Paski, you are so cute in that shirt,” Jessica announces.

  “So totally cute,” echoes Brianna.

  “Where’d you get it?” asks Jessica.

  “Urban Outfitters,” I say.

  “Sit down,” she orders.

  I sit.

  “Now, Paski, Haley, I have to tell you guys, we’ve got everything set for tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?” asks Haley.

  Jessica looks so pert and adorable sipping her drink, it’s almost impossible to imagine that this is the same girl who wanted me dead. “Okay,” she continues. “But before I tell you, I have to ask you to sign this waiver.”

  She slips us each a piece of paper. It’s some kind of contract on stationery with Jessica’s name across the top. It says:

  I, _________________________, agree on this date, _____________________, to keep everything discussed in this weekly meeting a complete and utter secret. If I so much as tell any of this information to a single soul, I understand that I shall be held fully accountable for my gross indiscretions, according to the laws of the corporation. I furthermore agree that if any member of the corporation should be discovered with regards to the actions discussed in today’s meeting, by a law-enforcement agency or something of equal nature, that I will keep my vow to secrecy or face the harshest of consequences, including but not limited to expulsion from the corporation, public humiliation in the form of ostracism at school and in the community, and a fee of no less than one thousand dollars, payable in cash to Miss Jessica Nguyen, for contract broken. This contract is binding and no
nnegotiable.

  Signature______________________________

  I read it again to make sure I understand if this is actually real. I look at Haley and see that she is already signing it. She looks at me and says, “Standard procedure for the corporation.” When she finishes signing, she hands her pen to me. The pen has a pink powder puff at the top. I look up at Jessica.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to take this step?” She smiles wickedly. I nod. And then I sign. “All right. Good. Thank you both.” Jessica snatches up the contracts, puts them in her large chocolate brown Prada handbag, and says, “Here’s the deal. Brianna went over to the track a couple of hours ago, and she got Andrew to help her with the bolts on Lori’s motorbike.”

  “She what?” I ask. I try not to gag or choke, or look as shocked and sick as I suddenly feel. Haley looks confused.

  “Yeah!” Jessica claps her hands a few times in front of her, as if dusting them off. “It’s all done.”

  “Totally done,” says Brianna. “Andrew’s a doll.”

  “Andrew?” I spit.

  Jessica looks at me with sympathy. “I know, Paski. I know he put that stuff in your drink and everything. He’s stupid that way. But he’s useful to us in other ways.”

  “He knows a lot about motors. His dad has car dealerships,” Brianna pipes up. She starts counting on her fingertips. “Mercedes, BMW, Audi —”

  “Shut up, Brianna,” snaps Jessica.

  “What do you mean by ‘help her with the bolts’?” I ask.

  “Loosen them,” says Jessica, like I’m an idiot. “What did you think I meant?”

  Haley looks at me in alarm but doesn’t speak.

  “Uh.” I start to panic. What if Lori is over at the track right now, practicing? I didn’t think it would get to this. I mean, I kept waiting for a sign from the amulet, something that would tell me what to do. Oh my God. I have to do something. “You didn’t really do that, did you? Tomorrow’s the race, Jessica.”

  “Well, duh,” she says with a broad grin. “And the race is where Lori’s going to wipe out.”

  “No,” squeaks Haley. “You guys didn’t really do that, did you?”

  “Totally!” says Brianna.

  “You two don’t have a problem with this, do you?” asks Jessica. It’s not a question, though. It’s a threat.

  The amulet grows extremely warm on my neck. I have to call Chris, to warn Lori. It’s so important that I don’t mess up. “You don’t think it’s going to kill her or anything?” I ask, trying to smile. “So much more dramatic to just hurt her a little, right? I mean, that way no one goes to prison if we get caught.”

  “No one gets caught unless one of us blabs. Therefore, the contracts. Which, I will remind you both, you signed.”

  Haley picks at her pink manicured fingernails and says, “Yes, but I don’t think we understood what we were signing about.”

  Jessica’s eyes narrow at her, and I swear to God, I can almost see smoke coming out of her ears. Nostrils, too. “Do. Not. Tell me. You are going to cause problems.”

  Haley says nothing.

  Jessica looks at me and Brianna. “This might be a good time to let you know, Haley, that I’ve considered corporate restructuring lately.”

  “What does that mean?” asks Haley, her eyes starting to fill with tears.

  “It means we might have some layoffs coming up. I’m not sure. It all depends on worker productivity.”

  My urge to call Chris is tremendous. I have to do it. Now. Right now. I have to think of a reason to get away from here. I point to their smoothies. “Those look so good,” I say. “Mind if I go get one and come right back? I am so thirsty. I’ve been riding my bike like crazy lately.”

  “Spirulina,” says Jessica. “And ask for a protein shot. It’s the best thing.”

  I smile and get up. “I totally have to pee, too. I’ll be back. You guys want anything?”

  Jessica and Brianna say no in a way that lets me know they have no clue what I’m about to do. Haley stares at the top of the table, glum, and says nothing. I dash to the restroom, lock myself in a stall, and call Chris on my cell phone.

  I tell Chris about yesterday at Jessica’s house. He listens.

  “Jessica’s kind of weird,” he says when I finish.

  “And the worst part is that she was talking about how she wants to make this girl Lori McCafferty, who’s taking her place in the regionals, have an accident.”

  “Poor Lori. She’s a great girl,” he says.

  “You know her?”

  Chris says sadly, “You could say that.”

  “Why would Jessica hate her so much?”

  Chris hesitates and says, “Because I used to go out with her in the eighth grade.” He pauses. “She was the first girl I ever kissed.”

  “Really?” I ask. I try not to feel jealous.

  “Yeah. And she’s the one who turned me on to motocross.”

  “Jessica just told me that Brianna and Andrew loosened the bolts on Lori’s motorbike. Someone has to tell her not to even practice on that bike.”

  “I’ll call her,” he says calmly. “No problem.”

  “Thank you so much.” I breathe.

  “Sure.” He hangs up and I exit the stall hoping no one here has heard me talking. I wash my hands and try to stop them from trembling. “You’re doing the right thing,” I tell my reflection. “You can do this.”

  I go to the smoothie bar, get my drink exactly the way Jessica wants me to, and return to the table. “Yummy!” I chirp, hoping that no one can see me dying of nerves inside. “This is so good. You were so right!”

  Brianna snaps her gum and says, “Jessica’s always right. That’s one of our company politics.”

  “Policies,” Jessica corrects her.

  “Right,” says Brianna. “Company politics.”

  Jessica shakes her head and sighs. “Never mind. Okay, guys? Now we have to talk about our next project.” She stares at Haley. “Making sure Haley isn’t popular anymore.”

  Haley’s eyes brim with tears again. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “You don’t like our plans,” says Brianna.

  “Because they’re dangerous!” cries Haley. “Because you’re mean! It’s horrible to want to hurt someone like that.”

  Jessica smiles. “That’s the thing about business that you artist types don’t understand. Good managers have to suspend empathy.”

  “What if I go to the police?”

  “You can’t. You signed the contract.” Jessica smirks and holds it up to remind her.

  Haley stands up. “The only contract I have that matters to me right now is with my conscience.” She looks at Jessica her eyes wide with disgust. “You know, after you had your crash, I felt really sorry for you, Jessica. Like I should be friends with you even though I knew you were ruthless. I didn’t want to be your friend after what you did to Paski at the party, but when you had your accident, I thought it might have changed you. It didn’t. It made you worse.” She scoops up her handbag and looks at me. “Are you with them?” she asks. “Or with me?”

  I look at Jessica and Brianna and think about Lori McCafferty. I stand up, and side by side, Haley and I walk out of the mall without speaking.

  We jump into the Squeegeemobile, and I call Chris again on my cell phone as I drive toward Haley’s house. “What happened?” I ask him. I realize my voice is very loud.

  “Well,” he says. “Lori’s okay.”

  “Thank God.”

  “But she’s spooked, Paski.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  “She doesn’t want to race this weekend.”

  “I wouldn’t, either.”

  “And she asked me if I know anyone good enough to take her place. There aren’t that many girls out there doing motocross at the level of Jessica and Lori.”

  “I know.”

  “So, like, I hope you don’t mind, but . . .” He stops talking. I watch the freeway stretch out in front of me and f
eel the amulet resting comfortably on my neck.

  “But what?” I ask.

  “But I told Lori that you should take her place in the race.”

  “You did?”

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t know how to race!” I protest. But even as I say it, I know it’s not completely true.

  “You’ll be fine,” he says. “Lori already gave the team your name.”

  “What?”

  “But you have to promise me you won’t hang out with Jessica and Brianna anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, as we speak, the police are down at the track, getting Andrew’s and Brianna’s fingerprints off Lori’s bike.”

  41

  It’s the day of the regional finals, and Brianna and Andrew are on their way to jail. Yup. That’s right. Jail.

  Brianna confessed that Jessica was involved in the plot, but Jessica has denied it all. She’s going to let Brianna and Andrew take the fall for her. I know this because I was lying in bed, waiting for Dad to tell me the waffles were ready, when Jessica called to tell me everything and to ask me to reconsider my “resignation” from the company. I have the phone to my ear, listening to her. As she talks, my eyes dance over the photos of Taos and New Mexico pasted on my bedroom door. The images give me strength and connection to the universe. The majesty of the landscapes also makes everything Jessica is saying seem trivial and extremely superficial.

  “You really are a good fit for this company. You know that deep down inside, you’re just like me,” Jessica says again. “Together we’d be unstoppable.”