“I won’t,” I whisper, my spirit broken.
“Ro will explain where you need to meet us, and what’s expected of you. I have someplace to be.”
As she turns, the curled tips of her highlighted hair sway and coil like loose springs over her small-framed shoulders. The pretty ones are always cutthroat.
“Holy shit,” I say so quiet it’s almost to myself.
Ro reaches for my arm, but her touch feels unfamiliar, like I’ve only just met her. “She’s brutal, Guera, but that’s why she’s top dog.”
Maybe it’s what happened with Angel, maybe I’m just opening my eyes, but when I look at Ro, I don’t see my friend. Everyone feels farther away. I can’t trust any of them. Nobody kept that awful thing from happening to me. Not Ro. Not Mom or Ruth.
“Okay, so tomorrow we meet at 5 p.m. at Leti’s house. Don’t be late. She won’t tolerate anything from you now. We’re ordered to tell you only what you need to know. After we go over the plan at Leti’s we’re meeting at the park to split into our groups. You’ll be armed before you leave the park. You need to wear a blue hoodie and a black or white t-shirt underneath. Everyone will wear the same color so we don’t hit our own. When you hear the sirens, take off the color. If the cops see us all wearing blue, they’ll know who to come for. Black and white could be anybody. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes. Will I have to face him tomorrow? Will he be there?”
“I just told you we’re going to war. You have no choice but to be there, and you’re worried about facing Angel?”
“Yes.” I can’t manage any other explanation.
She sighs. “Yeah, he’ll be there. He insisted on being in your group. He refuses to cooperate, and they don’t want to force him. I think it’s so he can protect you. Vee isn’t happy with it, because she thinks he’ll get himself killed trying to save you.”
“What?” I blurt out. “You don’t...do what he did and then...does he think playing the hero is going to make up for it?” I cross my arms and then throw them down at my sides, finally letting the anger out of its heart-shaped prison. “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it. I know I have no choice. See you at five, Ro.”
She gives me a sympathetic half-smile but doesn’t bother with a hug. I’m not the only one pulling away. Angel’s defiling has poisoned them all against me. Good, I think as she walks off. I stare at her back, hating her for choosing them over me, hating all of them for shutting me out, though I know I should be grateful.
“Lucy.” The raspy whisper stops my heart.
He appears from behind a row of half-dead hedges against the community laundry room. My legs buckle and I hit the ground, scrambling backwards and scraping my palms against the pavement as I try to get away from him. I curl into a ball with my arms around my knees as he approaches.
“Please, just leave. Please. Please. Just leave.”
He doesn’t try and touch me, but I still shut my eyes. I can hear his body lower to my level on the ground.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think...I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was on PCP. And the beer...it didn’t mix well.”
I don’t register much of what he’s saying through the sound of my own sobs, but none of it matters. It doesn’t change what he’s done to me. I can’t look at him. I can’t even picture his face in my head without almost going insane remembering every detail. Remembering how I felt inside, the sheer terror of it all. I’ll never recover from it. It changed me. Forever. I wish I could make him understand what he took from me.
“Please forgive me, Lucy. I’ll do everything to protect you tomorrow. I’ll never hurt you again. Never!”
He is filled with promises. I push the sound of his voice away, trying to hide inside myself. I don’t know how long it takes him to leave or what he said. I just know that I eventually realize he isn’t there anymore, and I slowly uncurl myself, wiping my face before returning to the trailer.
As I find my way back into bed beside my sister I realize how alone I am, even with her an arm’s length away. I could wake her. Tell her everything that happened, but what good would it do? She wouldn’t have been able to stop it. The unforgiving truth is that we’re always on our own. Always. I can’t count on anyone but myself. After tomorrow, I’m going to leave here and never come back. I don’t care what it takes. I won’t let anyone hurt me ever again.
CHAPTER 17
Ruth
THE TRAILER IS QUIET. So quiet I can hear my footsteps, my breath. I’m alone again. Mom is working. Lucy is with friends. The grandparents are off at their respective card clubs to gamble. I wonder at the emptiness in my life as I wander to the bathroom in search of something to pass the time.
Mom’s makeup bag is a shiny silver pleather. I unzip it and pick out a burnt red lipstick. I love the waxy smell of it. My top lip is a tight bow, but the bottom is full and pouty. I scrutinize the details of my face as I stare into the mirror. The bridge of my nose is straight but too prominent. My eyes are a flat milky brown. Boring by most standards. I’m tortured by these features. No matter how long I stare, which angle I look from, I can’t decide if I’m pretty. I think maybe I am, but it might be that I’m just used to my face, comforted by the familiar reflection.
Then I decide that must be it. The reason I’m alone. If I were prettier I’d have friends. I’d have a boyfriend. I’d be laughing and joking with a group of people who love me. I could go over there, right now, to Lucy’s friend’s house. I could introduce myself, and maybe they’d take me in, too. The idea makes me nervous but excited, and I start smiling at myself like an idiot in the mirror, practicing a casual “hey guys” kind of look.
I rummage through the makeup bag with quick shaky fingers, pulling out the mascara and eyeliner. The black outline of my lashes creates a contrast to the dull brown, and turns my eyes into a shiny copper color. I move on to the blush, flushing my cheeks with a glittery pink, then I find a matching eye shadow. Finally, the burnt red lipstick tops it off. I smack my lips a little, evening out the shade, and comb my fingers through my wild dark curls.
Alone in the bathroom I feel confident. Beautiful. I pick through my clothes to find the newest looking tank top, a solid black one, and a pair of matching black Dickies. The only outfit my mom let me get at Hot Topic because they were on the sale rack.
My chest feels tight with nerves, my shoulders tense. There is too much spit in my mouth so I wipe at the corners of my shaded lips. Quick breaths steal my self-assurance. I realize, as I pace the living room in my black clothes and make-up, that as much as I hate being alone, I’m absolutely terrified of meeting people. I’ve lived in the same small town since I was born. I’ve grown up with the same group of people since before I can remember. They’ve always been there. I never had to learn how to make friends or meet new people. I have no idea what to say or how to be. The thought shakes me, and I stop with my fingers on the sliding glass door.
I swallow down the extra spit. The anxiety is overwhelming, like a thick fog I have to wade through to embark on the island of normal.
So, what, are you just going to hide forever? I ask myself. Never meet anyone new because it’s scary?
I force myself to ignore the cold prickly nervous sweat wetting my armpits and push the door open.
Rosa’s trailer is a few over from ours. I’ve seen Lucy climb the porch steps a few times, always wishing I could join, but there is something sad about clinging to your baby sister.
This way is better, coming over on my own. Maybe I’ll say Mom called to check in on her so I’m just coming to see what they’re up to. I rush forward, climb the stairs and knock before it’s too late to turn back.
I wait for an uncomfortable minute, my lips tightening into a nervous pucker as I bite the inside of my cheek. No one answers, but I know she’s here so I knock again. There’s music playing inside, so maybe they can’t hear me.
I turn the knob, and peek my head in. “Hello?”
The living room is full of people. Most, if not all are Hispanic and around my age. They don’t just stare at me, they glare. I search desperately for Lucy, some easy way to explain and slink away. She’s nowhere.
“The fuck?” A guy with large fake diamond studs and a closely shaved head stands. “Who the fuck is this white chick?”
I try to leave, but I’m literally stuck. My black tank is snagged on a loose metal piece sticking out from the knob. The door swings as I pull back and hits me, slamming my face into the frame.
The room erupts in nightmarish laughter, and my cheeks get hot and flushed with embarrassment. I want to die.
I almost break down right there in front of everyone, but Lucy appears from the hallway.
“What are you doing here?” she scolds me from across the room.
My relief in seeing her is like a dam against the inevitable torrent of tears.
“Anybody order a gothic beauty queen?” someone calls, and more laughter ensues.
Lucy rushes forward, and I smile sheepishly at her. There is so much worry in her eyes, I know she’ll save me from myself.
“Get the fuck out of here, Ruth.” The cold tone in her voice wounds me, but I’m used to her insults. It’s the look in her eyes that hurts most. It’s a pleading terrified look, like I’ve done something horribly wrong.
“Okay. Sorry—” I start to say, but she shoves me out the door, ripping my shirt.
“Don’t come here anymore. Hear me?” she warns. “Don’t. Come. Here.” Then she shuts me out on the porch.
It’s not until I’m back in the trailer that I allow myself to weep and cower in my shame. I hide in the bathroom and watch my face contort in the mirror as I sob. I wad up handfuls of toilet paper and wipe the make-up away with vicious strokes as if it’s the cause of my humiliation. The stain of the lipstick turns my mouth into a swollen red mess, my eyes swell as I rub them clean. I’m pathetic.
I cry until I accept that no one can hear me, no one’s coming to check that I’m all right.
Why is it we cry anyway? What is it about that ugly awful sound that helps us push past our worst moments?
Eventually I resign myself to my loneliness, welcoming the familiar freedom of it.
CHAPTER 18
Lucy
“SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING. Trust me,” I say, trying to convince Toño to leave Ruth alone. “I don’t know what the hell she was doing coming over here.” I sigh, still irritated by her nosiness. She has no idea how close she came to fucking up my plan to get away from all this. What if she’d seen the pile of guns kept just out of view by the arm of the sofa?
Toño gives me a warning look, but I can tell he carries around a budding flower of sympathy for me because of Angel. That ugly mark on my soul saved her in that moment. A price she’ll never know I paid to keep her safe.
“Listen up,” he says, silently pardoning me for her crime. “I want four groups. I want my strong fighters to be coming from two sides. You know who you are. The other two groups will be smaller. You’ll separate and go after specific targets. Those of you staying in the larger groups will be following my lead.”
I eye the door, knowing I’ll be paired with Angel who hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe they told him to stay away, or he might just be late. Regardless of the reason, I’m constantly on edge. Not knowing when I’ll be forced to face him again feels like holding a live grenade.
Everyone starts to leave, and not even Ro stops to see how I’m coping or whether or not I know what to do. I can feel her pulling away in the way she avoids my eyes and stands farther apart from me. It’s better for both of us, but I know I’ll never get her back after this. I watch her pack shanks into a knock-off Coach purse, her stiff curls shifting in a gelled clump as she turns her head. Beneath those stenciled lips and done-up eyes, she’s still my friend.
I catch her wrist as she passes me.
Our eyes connect, one final time, and I know it’s the last. I try to say everything in my heart with a single look. She holds my gaze with a flat expression, as if she’s determined to keep me out.
“Bye Ro.”
She lets go of the façade for a split second, her lips softening into a knowing smile, and walks through the door.
* * *
Everyone scatters. I end up walking to the park alone, which is terrifying, because I start thinking of Littles. The fight. Her face. I wonder about what happened to her when she woke up covered in blood. I’ve decided to tell myself she’s okay, that I’m not a murderer. But I might never know for sure. Either way, those girls will want revenge. My pulse quickens as I move faster.
I’m vulnerable all by myself, but the streets are quiet. Certain lights have either gone out or have been shattered intentionally, which creates large pools of darkness as I walk. Around every corner I scan the whole block before continuing.
The park is empty when I arrive, though I can see members of our group trickling in from the surrounding streets. The cops must know what’s coming because they’re crawling by every few minutes. I’m grateful for that, knowing I can run to them if I’m afraid for my life, but also terrified they’ll nail me for something serious.
After a while, the girls group up and the guys form a second cluster at separate sides of the park. Omar and Vee are in the center talking closely. Some of the girls stare at their men from afar. I tie my hair in a messy bun to get it out of my face and go to stand by Ro. She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I tuck my hands into the pocket of my blue hoodie and watch as Omar strategizes with Vee.
When they break apart, and Vee heads back our way, I start to rock on my feet and clench my fists. This is it. And I don’t even know what it is. I don’t really get time to think about it either, because someone yanks me by the elbow, wrenching my hand from the pocket of my sweater.
“Hey!” I say, thinking Ro is taking this cold-shoulder thing a little far.
“You’re with me,” Angel says.
I swing around and our eyes meet. His beautiful brown eyes, like dark endless wells, have been ruined for me. They take me to a place where I’m scared and fragile. I pull my arm from his grasp, and release a captive breath.
“I know you don’t want to,” he continues, trying a softer approach, “but it’s better this way. Please stay with me. I won’t hurt you. I want to protect you.”
I just nod and stare at the ground.
Vee looks at Angel. “Those of you with targets, you know who you are, separate yourselves now. The rest move out.”
The group breaks up, and I start following the person in front of me without thought.
“No, we go this way.” He grabs my arm again and pulls me in the other direction.
“You don’t have to drag me around!” After I snap I try to lighten my tone, realizing he could hurt or kill me in the chaos without anyone noticing. “I’ll come with you, just let me go, okay?”
“Okay. I won’t touch you, but you have to stay close and you have to watch. We’re going to split off from this group. We have our own mission.”
“Mission? What do you mean?”
“The target.” He says this like I haven’t been paying attention, and I guess I haven’t. I’ve been so wrapped up with facing him and getting this over with I never imagined I’d be one of those selected to take out a target. A person.
“The big groups are just a distraction. They’re going in to wreak havoc so we can get through unseen. I’ll take down the main target. You’re going to help me by getting his girl.”
“Wait...what do you mean?” I glare at the shadowed grass already knowing the answer. I wonder in my silence what he’ll do if I refuse. Because I don’t think I can do it. Besides, I don’t have a weapon.
He must see the way I falter at the thought. “If you freeze up then just knock her out, and I’ll finish it once I’ve taken care of my part. This is for you.” He hands me a gun.
I stare at it, mortified. It’s small and black. I have no idea what to do with it. I don’t even
know what kind it is. My dad has shotguns, but I’ve never shot or even held one like this in my life.
“I don’t know how to use one of these!” I say in a high-pitched shaky voice, hoping to find a way out. I almost drop the thing, but think better of it. I’d probably end up shooting myself in the leg.
“The safety is on. It’s this button right here. Make sure you undo that before you shoot or nothing will happen. That’s all you need to know. We have to move.”
I hold it like some cursed evil relic, touching it as little as possible in the pocket of my sweater as we head for the edge of the park. We keep quiet and sneak around the sides of an apartment building. I stay close to him, walking at his heels, as we creep through alleyways keeping to the shadows. Beneath my sweater, I’m battling a cold sweat. Death—mine, his, our target’s, either way it’s only a few breaths away. I think about the people we’re after. I don’t know what they did. I worry for them, that they’ll waste the last moments of their lives. But those thoughts are just an undercurrent to the river of anxiety I’m wading through.
It’s strange to rely on the person who’s hurt me the most to keep me safe. Despite the feelings he stirs up in me, he’s the lesser of the dangers I’m facing tonight.
We reach a small white house with faded blue shutters and Angel starts to climb the chain link fence that encloses their backyard. I pause before I follow him. It feels like everyone’s watching me, even though the streets are dark and empty. Someone could still drive by and catch us at any moment.
I know there’s no going back, and I don’t really have a choice, so I climb. The jingling metal fence is too loud as I claw my way up and over the top, like it’s announcing our arrival. We should have cut it—Stupid.
Once we’re past the fence I notice the budding shrubs in a flowerbed that hugs the foundation of the home. It’s a nice place, maybe the people are nice, too. I can hear the TV. It’s on louder than it should be. Beneath its layer of sound I make out a pair of angry voices trading blows, but I can’t tell what they’re arguing about.
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