I hear a motorcycle driving away from the shop. Vic's escaping once again.
"Coward," I mumble.
While I'm still frozen in place, Isa walks in the door. "Hey," she says. "Was that Vic I saw drivin' away?"
I nod. "Yep."
"Where is he off to?"
I can't look Isa in the eye now, because then she'll know something's up. Especially because I feel like tears are about to spill out of my eyes any moment. "He said something about going to a movie."
Isa cocks a brow. "Really?"
I shrug. "Or something like that."
"Uh-huh." Isa gives me a small smile. "Tell you what. I'll pretend I believe you. How's that?"
"That would be great, actually."
Isa gestures to my coveralls. "It's been a long day. Why don't you call it a night and come back tomorrow."
I look around at all the cars lined up, waiting to be serviced. The community wants to help Isa keep this place running, even though she admits she's not an expert in cars.
"Why do you continue to keep this place?" I ask her. It's not exactly the easiest job or the most glamorous.
"Out of respect to the guy who left it to me." She looks at her grease-stained hands. "He'd want me to be happy. This place keeps me grounded and gives me purpose. I don't know. If I wasn't doin' this, I'd probably still be runnin' with the Latino Blood."
"So this place keeps you out of trouble?"
She points to her ripped, grease-stained jeans. "This place keeps me dirty and out of trouble. You're the kind of girl who doesn't need to be kept out of trouble, Monika. I have no clue why you're here except for Vic."
"I don't want to talk about it."
She doesn't back down. "I'll bet. Maybe, just maybe, you're trying to get yourself into trouble with my cousin."
Chapter Thirty-nine
VICTOR
I kissed Monika Fox.
Actually that's not accurate. She kissed me. I kinda stood there at first, stunned and dazed like a damn inexperienced dork. Her hair smelled like flowers, her lips tasted like honey, and her moans drove me nuts.
It was better than my fantasies, by far.
How the hell did I get myself in this situation? Monika should've been at home, not at Enrique's Auto Body. Then I wouldn't have been alone with her and done stuff with her that I should erase from my memory.
Yeah, right. As if that'll ever happen.
I feel like a lovesick freshman. My heart is still racing, my adrenaline is pumping hard, and hell, blood is rushing to my groin just from the memory of her fingers reaching up to grab my hair.
Papa was right. I am pathetic.
Despite what I told Monika, deserting my team is suddenly weighing heavily on me. Knowing they've lost every game since Trey passed is like a kick in the gut. On top of that, I was not only responsible for my best friend's death, but I kissed his girlfriend. You can't get to be more of a pendejo than that.
My life has been one fucking mess after another.
I drive around until it's dark. The moving shadows coupled with the persistent yelling echoing through the night are reminders that this isn't the safest town. I don't think mi papa has ever been on this side of Fairfield. He snubs his nose at anyone poor, as if they're a disgrace to society.
The ironic part is, he lived in the ghetto when he was a kid.
I walk into a seedy bar on the edge of town. The place isn't for the weak, especially when gang members are scattered around, itching to start a fight with someone.
"What'll you have?" the bartender asks me.
"Whatever you have on tap," I tell him.
I need to forget about Monika, the team, Trey, and everything that's happened.
I need to forget I exist. Getting shit drunk seems like a good idea.
Without carding me or asking me how old I am, he hands me a mug filled with some crap beer that tastes like shit. After I have four more, the stuff starts tasting damn good.
"Hey," a guy says as he pushes my shoulder back to take a better look at me. He's wearing jeans and a beer-stained wife-beater. "Aren't you the kid who killed that Fremont football player Trey Matthews during practice a few weeks ago?"
I don't answer. Instead, I turn back to my beer.
"Charlie, get this kid another brewski," the guy says. "He did us a favor by puttin' that All-State player six feet under."
My fist flies without him being able to duck or flinch. He's on the ground, and I'm being yanked out of the place by two bouncers and thrown onto the gravel parking lot. Everything is a blur. Well, everything except for the dude's face after he ran his mouth off about Trey's death.
I sit up when I hit the pavement, and the world starts to tilt.
I'm drunk.
Damn.
I can drive the motorcycle back to the shop, but in all honesty I don't think I can make it back without falling over or puking. I decide to walk, which sucks because Isa's place is across town.
Escaping to this dive bar was a shitty idea.
I stumble inside Enrique's Auto Body twenty minutes later and head for the upstairs apartment. Isa is sitting on the couch where I've been sleeping for the past couple of weeks. I figure ignoring her is my best option, because as soon as I open my mouth to talk my brain can't figure out what words to say.
"Where were you?" Isa asks me.
"Nowhere," I answer as I stumble over to the couch.
"Are you drunk?"
"I hope so." I can feel my words slur.
She tsks a bunch of times. "What would Dani or Marissa think of you if they saw you now?"
"I don't give a shit."
"Okay, let me put it this way," Isa says, her fiery personality hitting me like a tornado. "What if Dani or Marissa came home drunk like you are?"
I might be stupid drunk, but that's a no-brainer. "I'd kick their asses and the person who helped them get drunk."
"Exactly." She stands and gets in my face. "Next time you get shitfaced, if you even think of coming to my place afterward, I'm gonna kick your ass."
"You think you can kick my ass, Isa, go ahead." I lie down because my head is spinning and I want to puke.
"Alcohol won't solve your problems, cuz. And it won't get you into a college."
I might have fought it for as long as I could, but the truth is that I'm not going to college. Hell, I probably never had a chance to anyways. If anything, football would get me into some college and I'd probably flunk out during my first semester.
Monika would never deserve a guy like me. Trey was the guy who could give her a future and stability, something I'd never be able to give to her. I have to prove to her that I'm the complete opposite of Trey. I'm someone who doesn't deserve her kisses or her attention.
I don't deserve anything at this point.
This is my life, right here in the south side of Fairfield, working at a rundown auto body shop. I don't want to face reality. I tell myself I can still keep an eye on Dani and Marissa even though I'm not living at home.
When the dizziness fades, a calming wave of serenity washes over me, giving me the strength to tell Isa the truth.
"I murdered my best friend," I tell her. "Then I kissed his girlfriend."
My cousin cocks a brow. "Murder? Vic, I read the news stories. It was an accident."
"You sure?" I ask her as I sink into the brown, lumpy couch. "I wanted to be him, Isa. I wanted his life. I wanted his brilliant fucking brain. Hell, I wanted his girlfriend."
Isa drops a blanket on me. "It was an accident, Vic. Nothing more. I'm sure because I know you. We're blood."
I shake my head. "Just because we're blood related, it doesn't mean shit. I'm blood related to my old man and he can't stand the sight of me. After tonight, I don't think Monika will be able to stand the sight of me either."
"I think Monika likes you, Vic."
"You're delusional," I tell her. "Completely delusional."
Isa laughs. "I'm not the one who's drunk in an attempt to forget reality, Vic. You
are."
"Damn straight."
"One day you'll wake up and realize you're wasting your life being afraid."
Fuck that. "I'm not afraid of anythin'."
"Uh-huh," Isa says. "You keep tellin' yourself that and one day you might actually believe it."
Chapter Forty
MONIKA
The entire rest of the week, I avoid Enrique's Auto Body. I get butterflies in my stomach wondering if Vic is going to call me, but he never does. Disappointment and hurt have settled into my chest and stayed there like a lump of cancer.
It was stupid to kiss him, but at the moment I just wanted to feel his strength and lean into his warmth. Okay, so I also wanted to connect with him emotionally--and physically. For the moment, I wanted to forget the past and only think about the present.
I'm so stupid.
I don't go to the football game on Friday night. Instead, I sit home and lie in bed. I can't stop thinking about Vic and how he looked at me after we kissed. He was horrified, as if my kiss changed everything and he needed to run away. We used to be friends who got along great. He's always been brutally honest with me, even if it meant hurting my feelings.
Right now I'm craving that honesty. I'm craving the old Vic.
"You okay?" Mom asks me.
I shrug.
"Is this about Trey? Or is your arthritis acting up? We can ask them to increase your meds if--"
I sit up slowly. "I don't need more meds, Mom. Really. And it's not about Trey." Surely I can't tell her it's about someone else.
The look of concern on her face makes me wish I didn't feel like crap tonight. The truth is my body is aching, but it's not like I can't deal with it. I'm down and depressed because I'm having feelings for someone who doesn't want me.
"Do you want to go to the movies with me and your dad?" Mom asks with a hopeful smile.
"No," I tell her. "You guys need a date night. I'll be fine."
"What about calling a friend?"
"Everyone's at the football game, Mom."
"Oh. I forgot." While I think she was relieved I quit the squad because she was concerned I was pushing my body too hard, now all my friends are busy during games, leaving me either a spectator or home alone.
"I'll be fine. I promise. Go to the movies with Dad and have fun."
"Okay," Mom says. "But if you feel like you need someone, just text me. I'll keep my phone on."
"Okay."
When my parents leave, once again I stare at the ceiling.
Chapter Forty-one
VICTOR
On Saturday I look in the mirror and think of my teammates. They lost again yesterday. I listened to the entire game on the local radio and cringed every time Fremont fumbled the ball or their receivers missed a catch. Monika thinks I have no clue what's going on with the team, but I've been checking their stats weekly.
It's my fault they're losing.
I wish I could talk to the team, to tell them to play smart and stop overanalyzing every play. I want to tell them to win in Trey's memory, that if their heart was in it as much as their heads they'd demolish other teams on the field.
But I can't tell them anything. I'm probably the most hated guy at Fremont. Just like Monika must hate me. I close my eyes and think about all the time we've spent together. Just the thought of her is comforting.
Even though I just solidified the fact that she'll never look at me the way she did right after she kissed me. She'd said she needed me.
She'll never have a clue how much I need her.
Chapter Forty-two
MONIKA
"Get up."
It's Saturday night, and I was planning on staying in bed all night playing games on my phone. That was until Ashtyn and Bree came barging into my house.
Bree is standing over me with a cupful of water in her hand. "I said, Get up, Monika. Now."
I put the covers over my head. "Why?"
Ash pulls the covers off me. "Because we've decided that you're going to Club Mystique with us."
I shake my head. "No. I can't go clubbing. Not tonight." Maybe not ever. I don't want to dance or listen to music. We used to go there all the time. Club Mystique lets minors inside, but unless you have an "OVER 21" wristband, they won't serve you alcohol. That never matters. When Ash, Bree, and I are together, we don't need to drink to tear the place up and have tons of fun.
"Yes, you can," Bree says, her big silver hoop earrings moving with each tilt of her head. "I know the bouncer. He'll let us in as soon as we get there so we don't have to stand in line. You need this, Monika."
I look over at Ashtyn, who's always been the voice of reason. Surely she'll realize that me going out is a bad thing.
"Ash, don't make me do this."
My best friend, the one who always has my back, grabs my blanket and yanks it off the bed. I should have remembered she's a football player on the boys' team--she's not weak, and she's been trained by the toughest coach in the Midwest. "Sorry, Monika," Ashtyn says. "Bree's right this time. You've been holed up in your room, and you need to get out and have some fun. No excuses this time."
"I don't want to have fun," I tell them, wringing my hands together in an effort to lessen the joint pain always present. "I just want to lie here and sulk the rest of my life."
"Yeah, well, only losers do that, and I'm too cool to be friends with a loser," Bree says after she puts down the offending cup of water and scans my closet. "So get your ass up and take a shower so you don't smell like old sushi. We're leaving in an hour, whether you're wearing those ugly sweats or not."
"They're comfy," I say, defending my wardrobe choice.
"We're not going for the comfy look. We're aiming for the hot-and-sexy look." Bree holds up a little red dress with the tags still on it. "Listen, we're here to rescue you. Now you can choose to be a dud or join us. Which is it?"
Sometimes you have to go out of your comfort zone to truly feel alive. That's what Vic told us when he did the polar jump in Lake Michigan last winter.
I told him he was crazy.
In response, he picked me up and jumped into the frigid water with me--and my clothes. Trey was amused--until Vic coaxed him into the water, too.
Vic constantly told me that I lived my life safe and predictable. As I squeeze into the tiny red dress Bree picked out for me, I wish Vic could see me now. Tonight I'm not playing it safe or predictable. I'm going to go out and forget about Trey and his secrets. I'm going to forget about Vic and his warm lips and passion that oozes from his every pore.
I take a shower and check myself in the mirror. When I bend over the sink to put my eyeliner on, my back starts to ache. I take a pill to relieve it.
I wonder what Vic is doing right now. He hasn't been in contact with me since I kissed him. Regret settles into my chest, especially because I can't get him out of my mind.
What's wrong with me?
Just the thought of kissing Vic sends a tingling sensation throughout my body. I don't want to feel anything for Vic, but attempting to ignore that something's brewing between us doesn't make the feeling go away.
I wish he'd talk to me about it instead of pretending I don't exist.
Before we leave my room, Ash and Bree examine me. They have no clue that my heart is aching.
"You're gorgeous," Ash tells me. "Now remember, this night is for you. Have fun. Lose your inhibitions. Forget the crap of the past month and focus on your happiness for once. Promise me you'll do that."
I put on a big, fake smile. "I promise."
Tonight is about me, about going out of my comfort zone and forgetting Vic and everything else. I take a deep breath. I can do this.
I think.
When we get to Club Mystique, loud music is pounding from inside the club and there are a ton of people in line to get in. Girls wearing sexy dresses, dark makeup, and long hair are a staple here. I can usually fit in, but I'm feeling self-conscious, and the painkiller is starting to kick in. It's making me loopy.
S
uddenly I wish Vic were here with me. He always seems confident in everything he does. It's actually annoying. I wish I were that confident. I can act the part though. Bree takes acting lessons. She says you have to become the role that you're playing. You have to commit or quit.
Tonight I'm going to commit.
I can do this. I can be like Vic and be confident. Blending in won't be a problem.
A couple of girls are on the sidewalk walking toward the club. They've got iron-straight hair and fake nails that are way too long to actually be able to do anything productive except attract boys. And they've all got stilettos that make them tower over me.
When we step in front of the line to talk to the bouncer guy who Bree knows, we get dirty looks from some of the people waiting in line. But Bree doesn't care, especially when we're immediately let in the club.
As soon as we walk through the crowded entrance, cups are shoved into our hands by this really tan guy who's wearing a shirt that says WEED-WHACKER. "Here," he says. "A gift."
Ashtyn's top lip curls as she leans in to talk to me. "Don't drink it. It's probably laced with something." She grabs the cup from me and dumps it in a planter in the corner, but Bree is about to down the contents.
"Bree!" I call out, grabbing the cup from her hand and tossing it in the planter. "What if it was laced with something?" I yell over the loud, pounding music.
She shrugs. "What if it wasn't?"
"I'm not letting you take that chance."
"Well, let's get something that's not laced. The bar is over there!" Bree screams over the loud music as she reveals the OVER 21 wristbands she swiped from her bouncer friend. She points to the other side of the club, then takes my hand and leads me to the bar while creepy WEED-WHACKER stares after us.
The number of people crammed into this small space is probably a fire hazard. It smells of sweat and beer and weed all mixed together. I don't think most of us would make it out alive if a fire broke out.
I push my way through the crowd with one hand holding Bree and the other holding on to Ashtyn. The music is so loud my ears are ringing and the beat of the bass is making the floor vibrate.
Soon Bree is flirting with the bartender, who brings us a round of shots.
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