“Why?”
“No reason.”
She squinted, probably thinking my reasoning was something perverted.
I gave in and confessed, “Sometimes when life sucks, you just want to be invisible, so no one can see you, or even think of you. The power could come in handy.”
Regan seemed to get it. She reached out and placed her hand on mine. When our eyes met, there was a level of understanding in hers that let me know there was more to her than what showed on the surface. We shared a smile as she said, “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
Regan
Troy was at it again after school. He was all over me as we sat in his car in the parking lot of the community center. Well, sat wasn’t the correct term; he was leaning over me as I was practically lying down on the passenger seat in an uncomfortable position. The radio was on, a suggestive song that seemed to imitate his intentions. It was 3:55 p.m., and I would be late if he didn’t stop messing around.
“Troy, come on, I’ve gotta get inside.” I sat up and straightened my clothes, then pulled down the mirror flap and fixed my hair as well.
Troy groaned and faced the steering wheel. “Every time, Rey.”
Was he serious?
“Every time? Would you really like to have sex in your car, right here of all places?” He had to be kidding. There was no way I was giving up my virginity in his passenger seat in front of my mother’s place of business.
“No,” Troy said, annoyance dripping from the single word. “I mean... Just forget it.”
I hated arguing, hated frustrating people. He had no clue how bad I wished it were that easy to just give him what he wanted. But the passion wouldn’t come. It wasn’t in me, for some reason.
Still, he was being rude.
“Quit whining, I’m going to be late,” I told him as I ran my hands through my hair one last time. I could see that he was already beginning to pout.
“‘I’m going to be late,’” Troy mimicked as he watched me finish fixing myself.
“Being an ass won’t get you anywhere.”
“Being a gentleman’s gotten me nowhere.”
“Troy!” I snapped at his blatant disrespect.
He winced. “Sorry.”
Keeping my head down, I attempted to get out of the car, completely over it.
“Shit. Wait.” Troy’s hand found my arm, causing me to pause.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I got a surprise for you,” he said, flashing me his handsome smile. “We gotta celebrate our one year.”
It was sweet that he wanted to make a big deal of it, but part of me worried about his plans.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
“Dinner at House of Solé this weekend. It took forever to get reservations. Maybe some dancing at After Hours when we’re done.” Troy did a cute little move, making me ease up and grin.
House of Solé was the premiere soul food restaurant in the city. It was a family-owned restaurant that served classic soul food dishes and played throwback music from jazz to blues to R&B. My parents boasted about their food all the time.
“Wow.” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “House of Solé is a big deal.”
Troy playfully jabbed my shoulder. “Anything for you. This—” he held my hand firmly “—is a big deal.”
“Well, of course then.” To show my appreciation, I came back over and gave him a hug and kiss.
I almost squealed when I felt his greedy hand squeeze my butt.
Quickly, I pushed against his chest and fled from the car, issuing a quick goodbye.
It wasn’t until I was out of the car and away from him that I could finally relax. The cool air against my skin and the smell of the nearby flowers cleared my senses and psyche, and all was well.
Except...one look around, and I saw him.
Guillermo was in the yard in front of me, glancing my way and then at Troy’s car. He’d been changing the nearest trash can’s bag, and there was no doubt he’d seen the whole show.
Embarrassed, I ducked my head and rushed to get inside, pretending not to hear him call my name.
In the lobby, I stopped and closed my eyes. I told myself that the anniversary date would go fine. Maybe after eating and dancing, Troy would be too tired to try anything.
Hopefully.
A hand came down on my shoulder, and I shrieked as my eyes flew open.
Guillermo took a step back. “Sorry.” He held up something in his hand. “You, uh, dropped this.”
Relief spread through me. It was him.
In his hand was a folder of mine; I recognized the glittery red color I used for my math assignments. I made myself loosen up, slowly unwinding from the emotional aftermath of being with Troy. I allowed myself to breathe, basking in the warmth that radiated from Guillermo.
“Sorry, I’m just out of it, I guess.” I took the folder and examined it, focusing hard on the glitter texture instead of Guillermo’s gaze lingering on me.
“You okay?”
I ran a finger over the glossy folder. “Uh-huh.”
Finally, Guillermo glanced outside. “I better get back to work.”
He turned to go. Because he’d done something nice for me, I stopped him.
“Guillermo,” I spoke up. “Thanks for returning this. God knows trig is hard enough, I don’t know what I’d do without my notes.”
Guillermo studied the folder I was clutching. “I sorta get trig. If you ever...” He stopped himself, shaking his head.
For once, he wasn’t pulling away. Wasn’t putting space between us. Wasn’t making me feel wrong.
I stood taller, smiling at him. He was about to offer to help me out in math, and because I wanted to pass the course, I wouldn’t let the chance slip away.
“I’d like that,” I said. “The next time I’m stressing, I’ll look for you.”
Guillermo simply bobbed his head.
I wanted to say something more, to let him know that things were okay. I couldn’t explain it, but a part of me wanted to be nice to Guillermo, beyond the fact that that was the human thing to do. Maybe it was the way he seemed to move so cautiously. He acted as though being near me was a crime, and I saw no issue with us being friendly.
Earlier, I’d seen him having lunch with Avery and Jenaya Omar. My younger brother was kind of a loner, so the sight had been a surprise, prompting me to say hi and make sure things were okay. I also didn’t know Jenaya well—she was in my class, and she’d gotten a nasty reputation back in middle school that hadn’t let up yet. Most people left her alone; she was tough because of her rep, often shooting people a cutthroat look that would have anyone shaking in their boots.
There was an icky part of me that was jealous Avery was the one Guillermo was comfortable enough to sit with, to talk to longer than a minute without looking over his shoulder. Avery and Jenaya.
At least he was making friends.
“Ahem.”
My mother entered the lobby, glancing from Guillermo to me. “Guillermo, your tasks aren’t going to complete themselves.”
“He was only returning my folder, Mom,” I said, waving it for emphasis. “It’s my fault.”
My mother didn’t soften. “Get clocked in, you have work to do also.”
Guillermo returned to changing trash cans, and I walked with my mom to the time clock.
“I want you to be very careful, Rey,” she told me as she watched me punch in my number.
“He was just helping me.” I faced her, unsure what she was getting at.
“Guillermo has a lot to focus on in his new world.”
“And he can’t have friends?” She’d never hovered before whenever I was friendly with one of the probationers. What made Guillermo any different?
My mother released a breath through her nose, prac
ticing patience before responding. This was work for her, and she took her program seriously.
Finally, she asked, “How’s Troy?”
Her question brought me back to his plans for the weekend. “Things are good.” I focused my attention on my folder again. “He actually asked me to dinner this weekend for our anniversary, at House of Solé.”
Instantly my mother brightened up. “Oh that’s wonderful, baby. You’re going to love it. The food is delicious.” She came close, kissing my cheek. “Don’t forget to tell your dad later.”
She disappeared down a long corridor, leaving me be.
At the front desk, in the assorted filing system set up for each individual volunteer, I found my name and the day’s tasks. I was on playground duty once again.
Sighing, I shifted my gaze across the room out the front windows.
Guillermo was in the yard, working with precision as he collected scattered trash.
I already had so much on my plate, and yet I was curious. My mother, being in charge and all, knew his situation, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to have her shooing us apart every time she caught us together.
The more I observed, the more I could discern that, whatever it was he’d done, it had left him troubled and broken.
Everyone deserved a shot at redemption. I hoped Guillermo knew that, too.
Someone had to make sure he did, to show him it was true, and for some reason, I wanted to be the one.
Guillermo
Once a month, Tuesday meant one thing: therapy. I’d completed my anger management course over the summer in detention, but had to keep seeing a counselor for my rehabilitation.
Dr. Hart was okay enough. From our very first meeting, she’d showed no sympathy regarding my punishment. She didn’t believe in violence whatsoever. I guess that left me a monster fit for her changing.
I attempted to go with it. At home, I was persona non grata; what more could I lose?
“Afternoon, Guillermo,” Dr. Hart greeted me as I sat across from her in her office in a lush skyscraper in downtown Akron. The room was very white, from the couch I sat on, to Dr. Hart’s chair, to the rug under the glass coffee table between us, to the bookcases lining the walls, and even to the walls themselves. It was all hyper clean, making me feel like a dirty little stain. “How’s everything?”
“Everything’s pretty much the same,” I told her.
Dr. Hart frowned. She was never satisfied with simple answers. If it took our whole forty-five minutes, she would dig a proper response out of me before letting me walk out the door.
“Things still pretty awful at home?” she asked.
“Yup. I overhead my dad telling my mom I’ve always been this way. La semilla mala. He’s got no faith.”
Dr. Hart seemed to understand. “I said it in the beginning, and I’ll say it again, this is going to be a long road you walk toward redemption. After all, this wasn’t your first offense.”
No, it wasn’t.
“Let’s talk about that goal I assigned you. How are things at your new school? Are you making any new friends?”
I thought about the question. Earlier that day at lunch, I’d eaten with Jenaya again. This time there was no protest, even when I’d sat by her in our shared classes.
During lunch, while Avery was still in line, Jenaya had taken one look at me and shaken her head. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Wouldn’t what?”
She gestured with her head toward the athletes’ tables. “Regan London is off-limits.”
Briefly, I glanced at our topic of conversation. Troy had his arm across the back of Regan’s chair as he sat talking to a guy across from him. Regan seemed to be trying to keep up with their chatter as she sat with her chin resting on her fist and a slightly bored look on her face.
She’d looked bored that first day I’d noticed them sitting together, too. I wondered how she even fit into Troy’s world.
“She’s got a boyfriend, I noticed,” I said as I brought my attention back to Jenaya.
“Uh-huh, and he’s top dog around here. And even if she wasn’t dating Mr. All-American, it’d still be a no. I used to hear guys complain all the time about asking her out and her turning them down due to her strict dad or whatever. So outside of Troy, Regan London is untouchable,” Jenaya continued. “I just thought I should warn you, since you’re already on probation.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said.
Later, when I’d gone home to drop off my school stuff, I bumped into Raviv and his girlfriend.
“What are you about to get into?” Raviv had asked.
I was about to get into my Charger, which wasn’t what he meant, but I couldn’t miss how eager he seemed, giving me an idea of what he was building up to.
At his side, Camila stared at me with a look in her eye that caused me to focus more on Raviv. I suspected she was trouble, but until I got a good feel for Raviv, I would keep my thoughts to myself.
“I’ve got an appointment I’m due at,” I said.
Raviv wasn’t put off. “What about this weekend? I gotta see you on that field, just once.”
This kid literally lived and breathed soccer. “I’ll check my schedule.”
He pretended to be exasperated. “Geez, this guy. What, do you already have plans? I saw you with Jenaya at lunch.” The suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows made me defensive.
“It’s just lunch,” I told him.
“Be careful,” Raviv went on. “People say she has a little...mileage.”
His words irked me, although he hadn’t been the only person to warn me about Jenaya. First it was Avery, and then during lunch a few guys had been looking our way and snickering. When I caught them in the hall and questioned them, they made mention of Jenaya being “a good time.”
From what I knew, the girl was straight. I thought it was typical high school bullshit. At my old school, there’d been a few assholes who spread rumors on a girl or two because they couldn’t get laid, or because they had.
Even if I were still figuring things out, I wasn’t going to judge Jenaya.
I didn’t want anyone judging me.
Remembering that exchange brought me back to my session with Dr. Hart.
“Things are moving along,” I decided to say. “I think I’m making a few decent friends.”
During our third period class, Jenaya had mentioned being a fan of a rapper I liked, and I knew I’d found a friend. Jenaya was super into hip-hop like I was, Avery seemed like a nice and quiet kid, and Raviv was still pending.
The one thing that truly mattered was that none of them were anything like my friends back home.
Dr. Hart made a note on her writing pad. “And girls?”
I kept any expression from registering on my face. “I think I’ve got a lot of things to work on before I attempt to see anyone.”
This pleased her. “Good. Now, since you’ve been back in the States, have you had any contact with your old friends?”
Her question sent me back to six months prior, when I was with Tynesha, messing around in my bed as we skipped school while my father was away at work and my mother was out at the gym or shopping. Things like that had been no big deal, because if I wasn’t skipping with Tynesha, I’d be skipping school with my friends. And her boyfriend.
I came back to now.
“Those bridges were burned a long time ago.” Outside of Tynesha and Shad, I’d left the others behind because they weren’t good company to begin with.
I must’ve been saying all the right things, because Dr. Hart appeared very pleased.
“Guillermo, I must say, I have high hopes for you in this new move,” she said. “It’s good to see you’re willing to leave the past behind and make new friends.”
I nodded, hoping she was right. There was a lot at stake, an
d a lot for me to work on. With myself, with my family, and maybe even my new peers. The kids at Arlington seemed decent, but I wondered how much of myself I could share, how deeply I could let them in.
When it came to the Situation, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell anyone. I already saw the way my parents looked at me; I didn’t need to stomach seeing the judgment in these new people’s eyes.
When it came to girls, I could reflect only on my time with Tynesha in terms of being serious. Could I ever trust again?
No.
I squeezed the armrest on the couch, telling myself it wasn’t all on her. I’d played a part in my downfall as well.
Still, deep in my chest, my heart was heavy and cold.
“Now, how are you feeling about community service? What’s that like?” Dr. Hart went on. “Have you been showing up on schedule?”
“Yes, I don’t want to piss off anyone else.”
Dr. Hart looked quizzical. “What’s your supervisor like?”
I pictured Mrs. London and how steadfast she was, how businesslike and intimidating. “Serious.”
“You get along?”
I thought back to our first day. “She’s tough, but she’s nice. She told me I’m not a monster.”
“Do you think you are? What’s the color of your self-esteem?”
My throat tightened. This conversation was making me think too much, feel too much, things I didn’t like doing. I swept a hand through my hair, my eyes on the carpet as I gave a lazy shrug. “It’s black. A cold and dark place.”
Dr. Hart heaved a sigh, tapping her pencil on the notepad. “Maybe what you and your family need is a formal apology to start off this new beginning.”
I had apologized, didn’t seem like enough. “Sure.”
“You need to mean it this time, show them that you are serious about changing your behavior. Before, you engaged in a cycle of saying sorry and then going out and finding the next thing to get into. This time, repent. Do you know what that means?”
“To feel bad?”
Dr. Hart shook her head. “To turn away from the old and to change one’s course into something better. This time when you apologize, repent, mean it.”
The Right Side of Reckless Page 8