Reverb (Trojan Book 2)

by S. M. West

  When not with Ike, I rehearse with the band, and afterward, Tito drives me to the Garcias’, along with Bianca, his girlfriend. That’s how I met Eva’s older sister.

  It’s easy to tell they are sisters with similar dark hair, bronze skin, and brown eyes, but that’s all they have in common. Bianca rambles, getting in your face, or in my case, my fucking lap. Most of the time, she’s all about herself whereas Eva wants to get you talking about you.

  “I’m going in.” Eva grabs the chips and plastic container, eyes downcast.

  Bianca ignores her, now on her feet and bending to dust off the grass from her skirt. She deliberately provides me with a glimpse at her cleavage.

  Turning away from her, I grab Eva’s arm. “No, wait.”

  “How do you two know each other?” The older of the two steps in between us, studying her sister.

  “We, uh, we…” The shade of red coating her cheeks only intensifies, and I can’t help but save her.

  “We met at school.” I pull her into my side and she tilts her head back, eyes widening at the intimate gesture.

  The vixen cocks a hip, unimpressed. “It was great to see you, Jared. See you at rehearsal tomorrow.”

  Winking, she flips her long hair over her shoulder and sashays into the house.

  “I better go too.” Flat dark eyes stare at me, and I miss the perpetual upward curve to the corners of her lips that she seems to always gift me.

  “Okay, but I didn’t even get a churro.” I lick my lips, and her gaze drops, lingering on my mouth.

  When she finally meets my eyes, she flushes again and hands me the box. “Here.”

  I shove one into my mouth and moan. “Oh, man, these are good.”

  “You play guitar for Tito’s band, right?” She’s shy in her question and I nod, chewing on the cinnamon goodness. “Bianca says you’re good. Is that how you know her so well?”

  “Yes, I am good.” My chest swells with pride, not needing the confidence boost but liking it all the same. I choose to ignore the comment about her sister. We don’t know each other at all.

  “Not modest, though.” She twists her lips in distaste, but the slight grin suggests she’s amused. “Did the band think of a new name yet?”

  “Not yet. We’ll figure it out before our first gig.”

  An old rusted Camaro pulls into the driveway and she whirls around, startled and apprehensive.

  An older man, her father I’m guessing, steps from the car. “Eva.”

  “Papi.” She hurries to his side, wrapping an arm around his neck, and he bends to kiss her forehead.

  Despite the tension, their greeting is sweet and as much as my stomach aches at the sickening sight, I can’t tear my gaze away.

  “Go inside now. We need to talk.” He points at her, all the while throwing sideways glares at me.

  “Papi, I’m sorry. We were just…”

  Slipping into rapid Spanish, his tone is clipped and she nods, suddenly silent and shrinking. Her distress at his tongue-lashing tugs painfully at my chest, and she leaves without so much as a look my way. My uneasiness morphs into anger as he father nears me.

  “You stay away from my daughter.” Face stern and jaw locked, his words are delivered as a threat and without needing to say more, he’s implying an or else.

  The man scoops up the food, grabbing the box from my grip and marches into his house.

  A fist tightens in my gut, and fire burns at his nerve. He doesn’t know shit about me, but from the disgust in his eyes, he’s already determined I’m garbage and bad news.

  Fuck him and his daughter.

  Looking my way

  Freshman/Sophomore year

  EVA

  “Where do you go with Ike?” I’ve got so many questions, desperate to know everything about this boy. Not wanting to lose the chance to ask, I dared to follow Jared again, and this time I didn’t wait for him to call me out. He wasn’t pleased to see me at the park, but he didn’t tell me to get lost.

  “You sure are nosy.” He studies me, roaming my face before releasing a long, harsh breath. “We drive around, then he drops me back here.”

  He waves at the playground, specifically at a small plastic house where the kids play family. His guitar case rests against a wall. Suddenly, the park no longer looks like a place to hang out and my stomach twists.

  He sleeps in the park. Why didn’t I figure it out before?

  His deep amber gaze darkens, daring me to say something. I want to make it better but don’t know how.

  “Are the Garcias good to you?”

  Do they hurt you?

  I can’t stomach anything dark and ugly. My father talks as if the boys are the monsters, but what if it’s the adults?

  He snorts, rolling his eyes like I’m a naïve little girl. “Fuck no. All they want is the lousy stipend from the state.”

  “Why do you stay there, then?” The night breeze is cool and I shiver, tighten the sweater around me.

  “You make it sound like I have a choice.” He leans against the house. “Val’s a fucking piece of work, but I can take her if I have to. It could be worse.”

  There’s so much he doesn’t say, and my mind whirls, eager and edgy for answers but fearing my heart may break at the truth. That’s if he even shares.

  I’m lucky to have a wonderful home with parents who love and protect their children. They’ve never raised a hand to us, don’t do drugs or anything illegal, and every choice they’ve made is with our welfare in mind.

  “Why do you sleep out here? Don’t the Garcias have a bed for you?”

  “Because I want to.” Fierce eyes settle on me, burning. “It’s safer out here.”

  “Safer?”

  “Look, if you promise to drop the questions you can stay.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Let’s go in here where it’s warmer.” He hooks a thumb toward the playhouse.

  It’s a tight squeeze and I wonder how he actually sleeps in here. There’s no way he can fully stretch out his tall frame.

  “Why here?” I cross my legs like he does, facing him.

  “Like why am I here on earth? Or here in California?” He raises a dark eyebrow and grins. “Or here with you? There’re many ways to interpret your question. What do you mean?”

  Heat crawls up my neck and into my cheeks. Fortunate for the darkness, I’m pretty sure he can’t see my blush. “I mean, why are you spending your nights in the park? You have a bed at the Garcias’…” I bite my lip. “I’m sorry, I promised no questions.”

  He tips his head back, and I’m mesmerized by the way his Adam’s apple slides smoothly up and down as his rich throaty laughter hits my ears.

  “Shut up. We both know you can’t help yourself. There’s no way we were getting through the night without you giving me the third degree.”

  His head tilts forward to face me again, and his movements stretch the fabric of his hoodie over his dark hair and broad shoulders.

  “What?” I straighten my spine. “We’re having a conversation, not an interrogation.”

  My knees unintentionally brush his jean-covered shins and it’s a good thing I’m already sitting because my thighs quake and knees weaken at our touch.

  “Now you’re just messing with me or kidding yourself. You do put the screws to me.”

  “And you dodge them by changing the subject or distracting me like you’re doing right now.” I waggle a finger at him. “You haven’t answered me.”

  “Yes, I have. Told you the last time. I come here to be alone.”

  “I think there’s more to it.”

  He lets out a sharp puff of air. “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Why do you need to know? What’s it to you?” His tone is impatient but not challenging, and if I’m not mistaken, I feel it won’t take much for him to give me an answer.

  “I just want to understand. To help, if I can.”

  Sweat trick
les down the nape of my neck onto my back. It’s a small space, quiet and humid. A lot warmer than outside and the air is thick and stagnant. It feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

  “You can’t, so don’t waste your time.”

  “How do you know?” I tuck a long errant strand behind my ear and wait for him.

  He stares blankly beyond me.

  “You know what I think?” I’m challenging and he nails me with his mysterious eyes. So dark, almost black in this light, that I’m not able to decipher any meaning.

  I steel my sweaty spine, determined to stick to my questions and get answers I so urgently seek. Although I’m clueless as to what I’m supposed to do with them once I have them.

  “I think you don’t want to tell me.”

  He’s scared but I won’t say that to him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings or tick him off. I really am trying to help, however I can.

  He rolls his eyes as if bored with this conversation. Bored with me. “You want to know why I don’t want to tell you?”

  Afraid to utter a single word now that he’s on the verge of sharing, I nod.

  “Because it isn’t pretty, and you won’t be able to handle it.” He fists his hands in his lap.

  “I can.” My boldness doesn’t lessen the mounting nausea in my stomach at his warning.

  “Val likes guys.” His voice is flat.

  “Pardon?” Bile prickles the back of my throat. He can’t mean what I think he means.

  “She. Likes. Boys.” His gaze is intense, searching.

  A flash of relief or understanding clouds his vision when I get it, and the realization sickens me. Scares me even. If I’m right…I want to cry. But maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am wrong.

  “Boys?”

  “Seriously, Eva?” He releases a short, barking laugh that’s neither light nor amusing. “You can’t be this fucking simple.” His tone is almost cruel, definitely cold, and I instantly shiver from the inside out.

  Wrapping my arms around my middle, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop a silly sob from escaping. I blink back the sharp sting at the corner of my eyes.

  The urge to lash out and leave bubbles up inside of me, but I don’t. How does this guy make me want to hug him and hit him all at once?

  Another blink and a single tear streams down my cheek, and I bite the inside of my lip, angry with myself for crying.

  Anguish flares in his whiskey eyes. “Fuck, Eva.”

  The way he looks away from me, as if disgusted, brings on more tears. Hot and salty and futile. He’s upset with me and I can’t blame him.

  Revulsion and incomprehension battle inside of me. Has she done anything to him? Did she hurt him? Why am I crying? He should be the one upset, not me.

  “Jared, I’m so sorry—”

  His sudden movements stall my words. Pushing the hood off his head, he gets to his knees and brusquely moves past me.

  “She’s never touched me.” His growl is absolute, and he flees the confines of the now suffocating shelter.

  He needs me to understand he isn’t a victim. But isn’t he?

  My need to help kicks into overdrive. Deep down, there’s no denying I’m driven by more than offering my support. I don’t have words for it because I’ve never felt this way before. Every breath I take almost hurts with how my chest squeezes my already anxious heart. It’s an internal force, deep within me—big. Huge, even.

  “Wait.” My skin heats and my heart skips a few beats as I clamber after him through the tiny door. “Tell me. Please.”

  I can’t let him walk away like this.

  I can’t help him if I don’t understand.

  He stops midstride, the taut muscles in his back bunching and shifting as he drops his bag to the ground.

  His head hangs, and with deep, ragged breaths, his chest expands, defining the broad, hard plane of his back. But save for that, he’s perfectly still.

  Drops of sweat bead and trickle down my spine and I shudder, waiting. I can do this. I can wait him out. I can take whatever it is he has to say. I just need to hear it. To help him.

  “She fucks with all of us.”

  I suck in a breath, my hands clutching at my stomach.

  “Not like that,” he’s quick to add, keeping his back to me. “Well, she does that, but not to all of us. She’s controlling. Sex is just one of her weapons. If you do what she wants, you get food, money, clothes, whatever she knows you need. But if you don’t, you get pretty much nothing.”

  My steps are slow and tentative. I have to see his face but don’t want to scare him away. I stop advancing when he speaks again.

  “One of the guys is her bitch but…she’s been looking my way.”

  My breathing quickens and my feet move, not stopping until I’m at his side. My fingers curl into the sleeve of his hoodie.

  “Jared, you have to get out of there.”

  “And go where?” He won’t look me in the eye. “She’s got her sights on all of us. I’m not the only one.”

  I want to know everything. What does she do? But I also don’t want to know. My stomach roils, bile churning and bubbling up my throat, and I want to hurt Mrs. Garcia.

  The police, his social worker, my parents—who can help us? I have to do something to make her stop hurting those boys. Hurting Jared.

  “Does Mr. Garcia know?”

  He scoffs, nodding. “Sure, but the bastard doesn’t let on. Figures it’s him or us.”

  “We have to do something. Call the police or your social worker.”

  His eyes narrow, regarding me like I’m the devil. “You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  “But she’s getting away with it!” Tears threaten to overrun my vision.

  “She isn’t the worst of what’s out there.” Venom blackens his tone. “At least she fucks boys that think about sex all the time. Most of us can’t keep our dicks in our pants.”

  “What? What does that mean?”

  “From what I hear, she won’t touch you if you’re under thirteen.”

  “And that makes it all right?”

  “Shhh.” Jared plasters his clammy hand over my mouth, backing me up until my back is against the metal bar of the swings. “You’ll fucking keep your mouth shut. You’ve got no clue what happens in those homes. Val Garcia is a pussycat compared to some of the other shit.”

  His hand muffles my cries as I heave, clawing at his wrist, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. Realizing I can’t breathe, he drops his hand but looms large.

  “Eva, forget I ever said anything.” He steps into my space and for the first time, I wonder what he’s going to do to me. Would he hurt me? What if I refuse?

  “I mean it.”

  “I won’t say anything.” I quiver and my stomach sinks to my toes.

  This isn’t right. My silence is a mistake.

  “I know nothing about this boy except he lives next door.” Papi’s tone is hard. “That means he’s trouble.”

  Inching along the wall toward the kitchen, I see my mother placing tomatoes on the counter before going to my father’s side.

  “Mi corazón, he helped bring in the groceries. Relax.” She rubs at his tense shoulders.

  “I don’t want any of those...those…”

  “Boys.” Her smile is gentle.

  “I don’t want them in here. It’s bad enough we live next to that house.” He grabs his keys. “I have to go. Get some rest.”

  Mamá’s loving smile melts his annoyance, and he grips her waist, planting a long kiss on her mouth.

  They are talking about Jared. Mamá had gone grocery shopping, and I just caught sight of Jared leaving our house. He must have helped her bring in the bags.

  We’re forbidden to talk to the Garcias or the boys. My father’s rule, and normally I listen. Until now.

  Alonso Ramirez is a kindhearted person, the first to help a stranger, and yet he doesn’t give those boys, who have already had a hard life, the benefit of the doubt. Non
e of them have given him cause, especially Jared, and as much as I don’t like it, I’m angry and disappointed in him.

  Papi rushes from the kitchen, stopping when he sees me. He smiles, causing his laugh lines to crinkle around his eyes. “You know, it isn’t polite to listen to other people’s conversations.”

  “Yes, Papi, sorry. I just didn’t want to interrupt.” I cast my gaze to the floor.

  His rough fingers slide under my chin, raising my eyes to meet his. “Mi cielito, be good for your mother. Go help her.”

  He plants a kiss on my forehead and leaves. He has a long haul, working double time given it’s Thanksgiving, and my mom will work for most of it too. Money is tight.

  Despite my mother’s privileged upbringing, born into a wealthy Spanish family, she only gets what her father sees fit. At nineteen, she came to America on vacation, met my father, fell in love, and never went back. Her father cut off her funds, thinking a harsh dose of reality would bring her back, but it didn’t.

  My father comes from a humble, hardworking family, born in Mexico. When he was just a teenager, they fled to the US because they wanted a better life and more opportunity for their children.

  “How can I help?” I enter the kitchen as my mother folds the last paper bag.

  “It’s all done. Have you done your homework?”

  “Sí. All done and I think Bianca is too.”

  I’m going to my first party since starting high school. My mother agreed to the party if Bianca was going, which of course she is. The band Jared plays in is performing tonight, and I don’t want to miss it. I’m both excited and nervous.

  It’s been a few weeks since the park and we haven’t talked. I’ve been tempted to follow him to the park but no opportunity has presented itself.

  And while I’ve seen him at school, we don’t talk, and I continue to steal glimpses of him, guitar in hand, when Tito drops him off. I want him to know his secret is safe with me.

  A girl like you

  Freshman/Sophomore year

  EVA