“The cat-fighting gym’s down the street,” he said. Julia punched his arm. “I was playin’!”
“He is so not PC,” Julia said.
Eric drank some water, wiped his mouth, and checked the clock. “I’m going up for the sparring circle. Wanna watch?”
We agreed and followed him up some metal stairs to the loft. It was a big empty space with blue mats on the floor. There were four guys up there, stretching and air-boxing. Eric skipped a little rope to warm up. I didn’t know what a sparring circle was, but I doubted it involved holding hands and singing.
Julia and I stood against the wall as the guys assembled into a circle. “I hate this,” she said into my ear. “But he likes it when I watch.”
“That sounds so wrong, you know,” I teased.
“Trust me, I know.”
The last guy to join them was Ortiz. He walked by without noticing us and took his place in the circle. Once everybody was quiet, he pointed at Eric, and then another guy. “You and you. Go.”
It didn’t look like boxing to me. It was street fighting, fast and dirty. Julia chewed her lip, wincing every time Eric or his opponent landed a kick or a punch. I didn’t like it either. I knew that a lot of guys had a natural fighting urge in them, an instinct left over from our primitive selves. Feeding the beast, Ortiz had called it that night at Eric’s party. But I guess it was better to control it in a boxing gym than to let it loose in a bar brawl.
The fight went on for two, maybe three minutes, but I could tell that for Julia, it felt like hours. Eric’s opponent finally tapped out, admitting defeat.
Next Eric called the pair. He chose Ortiz and a bear of a guy who must’ve outweighed him by fifty pounds. It didn’t matter. Ortiz stunned him with several rapid-fire punches, then pinned him to the ground. Obviously Ortiz wasn’t just a studied fighter, he was a born one. Strange, because the Corner Store Guy I’d seen so many times didn’t give off an air of aggression. Sex appeal, sure, but not aggression.
The sparring circle lasted about twenty minutes. By the end of it, the guys looked exhausted, and Julia did too.
Afterward Eric came up to us and downed some more water. “We going somewhere?”
Julia turned to me. “You up for it?”
“Nah, I’d better get home and work.”
“Come on,” Eric said, “they can’t take away your scholarship now, can they?”
“It’s the school newspaper. If the articles suck, it’s on me. Great seeing you guys.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ortiz heading in our direction. After the quick end to our last meeting, I knew it would be awkward to stand around and chat with him. I decided to make a strategic exit.
The bus stop was only steps from the front door of the gym. According to my iPhone app, I had to wait seven minutes, and the bus ride back would be twenty. Not bad. I could be at my computer by nine thirty, hopefully in bed by eleven.
I checked my phone and saw a text from Iz.
What are we doing tomorrow night? Carmen says she’s busy Friday AND Saturday night with Rafael. Can you believe that?
Actually I could. Carmen hadn’t been returning my texts lately. She seemed to be making a point of showing us how into Rafael she was. I texted Iz back.
Maybe we shouldn’t have made fun of her Eric obsession.
Her reply came within two minutes.
If she hadn’t talked so much about him we wouldn’t have. Whatevs!
A horn honked, and I looked up. A black car had stopped at the curb. Ortiz was in the driver’s seat, his hair and skin glistening from a shower. I blinked. Must’ve been the quickest shower known to man. Did he deliberately hurry up so he could drive me?
“Why don’t you get in? I’m going to work.”
The car behind him beeped, jolting me. I hurried up to his car and slipped into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”
The second I buckled my seat belt, he started to drive. “I’m guessing you live near Sasso’s.”
“Yeah, I’m just off Seventeenth.”
After a couple of minutes, he said, “Not a boxing fan, are you?”
“What I saw up there wasn’t exactly boxing.”
“Yeah, it’s more raw. Nothing’s off-limits. That’s how I like it.”
Oh yeah? I was tempted to reply. But he looked so cool that I wasn’t totally sure he was flirting with me. So I said, “I guess it’s okay to fight like that if you’re not training for competition.”
“I’m not chasing the Rocky dream, trust me. But self-defense can come in handy.”
That made me stop and think for a minute. “Were you there any of the times Sasso’s was robbed?”
“Yeah, a few times.”
“Really? Hope you weren’t tempted to test out your skills.”
He scoffed. “The sight of a gun kills the temptation to use my moves. Plus, any self-respecting stickup guy knows not to get within an arm’s length of you.”
“Self-respecting stickup guy? Seems like an oxymoron to me.”
“Don’t see why.” He slanted me a look. “It’s a trade like any other.”
“Yeah, right. Aren’t trades supposed to be legal?”
His mouth crooked. “Not in this city. You’ve got the drug trade. The gun trade. The sex trade.”
“Okay, you got me there. But they’re not like other trades—by the time you’ve been in five years, you’re probably dead instead of a master tradesman.”
“You got me there.” He stopped at a light. His eyes drifted over me. I swallowed.
A tight silence settled over us. The cabin of the car suddenly seemed too small. I had a flash of my dream in which we were driving together, my hair blowing in the wind, my hand on his hard, muscled thigh.
Damn it. I shouldn’t let my mind go there. Ortiz was sexy in a way that made my insides melt, and he undoubtedly knew it. Every hot-blooded female between fourteen and forty would be attracted to him. Maybe some cougars, too.
The point was, he could have any girl he wanted. If we hooked up, it probably wouldn’t go anywhere. And the last thing I needed was a booty call setup. Okay, so maybe I needed it, but I definitely shouldn’t go for it.
Distracting myself, I turned to look out the window. Little bungalows and palm trees rushed by. I’d always loved my neighborhood. Not in an I want to stay here forever way but in a nostalgic way. I loved how my neighbors lived on their porches, how they all looked out for each other. Sure, I grew up knowing about the gangs, the violence, but none of it had ever touched my life. I’d always felt safe.
Until that night.
The moment I thought of Hector, I mentally pressed Delete. I’d taught myself to do that whenever the memory came up. Put it in a box and seal it with UPS tape and ship it off to Siberia. Compartmentalizing, Dr. Drew called it.
I called it staying sane.
Then I thought of Ortiz heading for another graveyard shift, and my stomach felt queasy. “I hope the graveyard shift’s worth the risk.”
“It’s fine. Quiet. I can read, listen to my iPod. But as I told your friend, it takes real stamina.”
He winked at me, and I couldn’t help laughing.
The tension in the car had evaporated, but my house was coming up far too fast. I pointed to the right side of the street. “It’s one eighty-six, second from the corner.”
He pulled up to the curb and put the car in park.
“Thanks a lot,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and getting out. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
I shut the door on the seat belt. Classic move on my part. “Oops, sorry.” I fumbled to put it back in, then shut the door again. His face stayed neutral, but I was pretty sure he was amused.
I hurried up to unlock my front door, not looking back until I was inside.
His car was still there, engine running. Sign of a gentleman, I thought with a smile.
THIEF
“I HAVE ANOTHER GUY FOR YOU,” Iz declared the next morning when I parked my butt besi
de her on the bus. “I’ll hook you up this weekend.”
I sighed and sipped my coffee. The bus lurched, spilling the hot liquid on my jeans. This wasn’t my day. I could feel it.
“It’s okay, Iz,” I grumbled. “I’m still not over Jack.”
“Don’t even joke about that. He thinks you’re a total snob, you know.”
I caught the edge in her voice. “What? You think he’s right?”
“Not a total snob, no. But you obviously think you’re too good for the guys I introduce you to.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
I wasn’t in the mood for Iz’s drama. I closed my eyes for a second, wishing I was back in bed. It wasn’t homework that had kept me up late—it was my mind, which had replayed every second of the car ride with Ortiz.
“Wake up, Maddie. You can’t go thinking you’re better than everyone all the time. Guys don’t go for that.”
Ouch. I was used to Iz bitching at her boyfriends, not me. Did she actually believe that? Was this about the scholarship?
Before I could say anything, she gave a big sigh. “Sorry for being a bitch. But you should’ve at least given Jack a chance. I would have.”
So that was what this was about. Iz kept trying to get me with guys that she would’ve gone for, and every time I passed one up, she took it personally.
“Look, Iz, it’s super nice of you to try. But don’t bother setting me up with another guy. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You said last week you were horny as hell!”
A middle-aged woman in front of us turned with a look of disgust. My face went red.
Iz laughed. “It’s true! Have you noticed how happy Carmen is right now? She says I’m a master matchmaker.”
“Yeah, and she’s ditching us this weekend to be with him. How’d that work out for you?”
“Okay, point for you. But at least she’s not still going on about Eric. I was ready to slap that girl sideways.”
It was the perfect time to mention that I’d seen Eric and Julia last night, but I kept my mouth shut. Although I didn’t want to keep anything from Iz, I didn’t want to rub it in her face either. And she was being kinda clingy these days, more than usual. Must be because I was leaving in the fall.
Something clicked in my mind. Maybe that was why she wanted to find me a guy so badly. Because she wanted a reason for me to come back to Miami. Because she was afraid of losing me.
I might be moving away, but I wasn’t going to let our friendship suffer. Maybe once she realized that, she’d stop sending all those guys my way.
My morning classes dragged. I spent lunch hour working on my article in the library, sneaking bites of a sandwich under the study carrel. I actually enjoyed writing about what to expect at college. I could fantasize about all the cool things ahead—making new friends in the dorms, partying during orientation week, choosing my classes, meeting my professors. But there were things to beware of too, like the pretty insane rates of sexual assault reported by freshmen girls. And then there were the health concerns. It turned out the “freshman fifteen” wasn’t a myth, thanks to greasy cafeteria food.
I wanted to cut last period, but I wouldn’t dare miss physics. Ms. Tate was going to give hints on the next test, which she always did on Friday afternoons to stop people from cutting. Contrary to what Eric thought, I could still lose my scholarship if my grades plummeted or if I failed a class.
On the bus home, Tom called to tell me there was a four o’clock staff meeting. I wished I hadn’t answered it. I’d been so looking forward to a nap before work.
As I approached the house, I heard Dex barking in the backyard. There was a white van in the driveway.
I stayed on the sidewalk, not wanting to get closer to the house. I took out my phone to call Mom at the hotel. Then Boyd’s heavy body stepped backward out the front door, holding our forty-inch flat screen TV.
“Boyd,” I called out. “What are you doing?”
He went down the steps and headed right past me. “Picking up some of my stuff.” When he got to the van, he set it down inside and wiped his forehead.
Bald and bearded, Boyd wasn’t a good-looking man, and the gray sweatpants and stained T-shirt didn’t help his cause. I still couldn’t figure out how he’d scored a date with my mom in the first place.
I peeked into the back of the van. An end table, a tall mirror, a stack of DVDs. We had very little worth taking, and he was taking it. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to load up his junk from the backyard.
I’d bugged Mom a million times to get our locks changed. I should’ve done it myself.
“Why are you taking our TV?”
“Your TV?” His eyelids disappeared with that oh-so-familiar glare. “Don’t you remember it was a birthday gift?”
Yeah, right. Birthday gift. How convenient that he picks it up when he knows Mom won’t be home. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s a shame. Why don’t you use your McDonald’s money to buy a new one?”
I gritted my teeth. I so wanted to tell him off. But the sound of Dex barking in the backyard reminded me not to lose it. Until the divorce was final, Dex legally belonged to Boyd. I knew that he hated Dex for being disloyal, for choosing me over him. But I had no doubt that he’d take him back just to hurt us.
“Fucking dog never stops,” Boyd said. “Tried to bite my hand off.”
I wish he had.
“Is there anything else I can help you carry before I head to work?” I asked.
Boyd narrowed his eyes suspiciously. It was incredible that, even now, he couldn’t read me. Couldn’t smell how much I hated him.
“That’s it for now,” he said. “I’ll be back another time for the stuff in the backyard.”
“Okay, then. Take care.” I turned my back on him and walked inside. Only then did I let the tears come.
I opened the patio door, and Dex shot in from the backyard. He was furious, jumping around, barking, nearly knocking me over. I tried to grab his collar, but he yanked away from me, circling the house twice before realizing that Boyd had left.
“Shhh. It’s okay, he’s gone.” I noogied his neck and gave him a couple of treats, which got his tail wagging again.
I grabbed a Twix from Mom’s guilty pleasure drawer in the kitchen, surveying the house. The living room looked bare without the TV and the end table. Mom was going to be really upset. I didn’t want to ruin her day by calling her, so I left a note on the kitchen table.
Hey Mom.
As you can see, Boyd took a few things that he said were his. Let’s just let it go. If we don’t, he’s gonna come for Dex. It’s almost over, Mom!!!
Love you,
Maddie XOX
P.S. Let’s have taquitos tonight when I get home?
I knew I should definitely stay home that night to be with Mom. She needed the support, and I wanted to make sure she didn’t call up Boyd. Though I’d planned to watch a movie with Iz and Abby, they’d understand. They knew the deal with Boyd.
I gave Dex another treat and he nuzzled my hip. I closed my eyes. God, I loved him.
We were almost rid of Boyd.
Almost.
THE GANG
BY THE TIME I GOT TO WORK, the meeting had already started. Twenty employees were packed into the staff room, Ronald McDonald watching over them like a minister with his flock. I slipped to the back of the room, snagging a free chair beside Manny.
“Hey, Diaz,” he whispered, passing me a handout labeled Security Procedures.
“Hey. Who’s that?” I asked. A lady at the front of the room was doing a PowerPoint presentation. She wore high heels and a slick gray suit.
“Regional HQ. Security shit. A fight broke out at the Miller Drive McDonald’s last night and two people got stabbed.”
“Are they okay?”
“Don’t know. There’s a lot of shit happening in the neighborhood these days. You probably heard about it from your friends at Rivera.”
“I ha
ven’t heard much this past week. What’s going on?”
“More like, what isn’t going on? It’s fights, stickups, shakedowns, and that’s just within two blocks of here. And there’s a full moon this weekend.”
“Lovely.”
“HQ’s worried that we’ll lose business. They’re gonna do some things to make it look like we’re a safe place for families to eat.”
“Look like we’re safe?”
He shrugged. “They’re talking about bulletproof glass at the drive-through. But other than that, we can’t exactly have a buzzer at the door. Gangbangers are half our business.”
“And we have the security cameras,” I said. But cameras hadn’t stopped Sasso’s from being robbed, so I doubted they’d prevent trouble here.
“Tom wants a panic button, too.”
A panic button? I knew that our McDonald’s wasn’t the safest place on earth, but this was extreme. What if some Reyes decided to come and pay me a visit? I was a sitting duck.
As if he could read my mind, Manny said, “Don’t you go worrying, Diaz. You’re safe here. Anyone gets near you, I’ll deep-fry his ass.”
When the meeting ended, I took my place at the back and got to work. But I was on edge, and the kick of caffeine from my McCafé latte only made me more jittery. It must’ve been an awful scene at the Miller Drive McDonald’s when the fight broke out. I hoped nothing like that ever happened here.
The Friday dinner rush ebbed a bit early, which gave me too much time to think. Mom was probably home by now, freaking out over Boyd’s theft. I just hoped my note stopped her from doing something stupid.
My phone vibrated—it was a text from Iz saying that she and Abby were going to repaint her room (for the seventeenth time). The theme was Evening Stars, she said, and everybody was gonna “go Lady Gaga over it.”
On break, I checked my phone again, and saw that Iz had already posted the Before bedroom pictures on Facebook. I “liked” it immediately. Then I ate a small salad, which would keep me until Mom’s taquitos later.
Manny came in and sat down across from me. “What are our plans later, Diaz? A movie? Romantic walk on the beach?”
On the Edge Page 5
