The Right Side of Reckless

by Whitney D. Grandison

  It was Friday, a perfect night to bond and chill with my boyfriend. The boy I loved.

  I let all thoughts of that morning go as I faced Troy. “Yes, I’ll text you later when I’m all ready.”

  Troy leaned over, his face softening and an unmissable twinkle in his eye. He pressed his lips to mine and I returned the kiss, closing my eyes and trying to get lost in the moment.

  My head was all over the place, but as I climbed out of the car and waved goodbye, I finally managed to breathe.

  Inside, my father was ending a phone call as he stood in the front foyer. A vivid look of worry was etched on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  His shoulders sagged and he released a sigh. I watched as he ran a large hand down his face, then uttered three words that cracked my world in two. “Tanner ran off.”

  My chest felt like it was caving in. My heart swelled with emotion, my throat threatening to close up permanently. NO.

  “I let him out, and I came in for just a few minutes...”

  His words seemed to become a foreign language almost as my gaze bounced into the next room, looking for my tan dog, down the hall, hoping to see the crooked tip of his tail, to the staircase, thinking maybe he’d slipped back in somehow and was up there napping on my bed.

  I abandoned my book bag and Troy’s gift at the front door and raced up the steps to my room. Nothing. I checked Avery’s room. Nothing. My parents’. Nothing. The bathroom and the adjacent closet connected to it. Nothing.

  The basement! My mind was determined, believing Tanner was in the house and my father hadn’t looked hard enough. I ran to the basement, searching the finished bathroom, the rec room, and the laundry area. Nothing.

  Panic started to set in as the reality that he was not in the house hit me.

  My thoughts guided me to the backyard, in case he had meandered out there and was resting in the green grass. It wasn’t fenced in, a hedge separating our yard from our neighbors on both sides. It was all too easy for Tanner to walk up the side of the house to the front to roam around if he wanted.

  In my jeans my cell phone buzzed and I fished it out with shaking hands to find Troy texting me.

  Troy: It’ll be nice to get out of the way, just the two of us

  The last thing I wanted to do was watch the sun set when Tanner was missing.

  Me: OMG, Tanner ran away!!

  Troy: Again?

  Troy: Shit, I mean, are you sure?

  Me: I looked around the house and outside and I don’t see him. Please, help me find him?

  Over on Troy’s end, a series of ellipses bubbled up, as if he were typing his response. Then they stopped, nothing coming through. And in another moment, they started back up again.

  Troy: Yea, let me change first

  I circled back up to the front yard, finding my father on our porch eyeing me with shame and pity. “Rey...”

  His words faded in the background as my head spun.

  I scanned the block on both ends, looking for a sign of my dog.

  “Tamwahs.” My voice trembled as I called the name we used whenever we baby talked to him.

  Nothing.

  Guillermo

  It was a good day for buñuelos, it had been too long. Marc Anthony was playing on the stereo in the living room, my mother singing along as she prepared the fritters. I was off from the center, and the idea of staying in and cooking food with my mother sounded all too good. It was nice to just relax and do something so normal and carefree without any grief attached for once.

  My mother was swaying around the room, being loose and silly. She grabbed my wrists, trying to goad me into dancing with her.

  “Vamos a bailar, mijo!” she insisted, swinging my arms.

  I chuckled, fighting her grasp. “I’m good.”

  She pouted. “You too good to dance with your ma?”

  It was just us. My father and Yesenia were in the family room watching a movie. So why not?

  I gave in, entwining our fingers as I pulled her close before twirling her out. I sang along as loudly as she was, getting lost in the moment.

  With the current cease-fire with my father, my mother had aged backward a decade, seeming to breathe easier now and smile more. I loved the sight of her giggling and being so carefree. I loved that she believed in me, had faith in this new chance.

  Ding dong.

  Jabbing a thumb over my shoulder, I said, “Front door.”

  My mother let me go, returning to her solo moves as she checked the oil in the pan.

  “Regan?” At the sound of Yesenia’s heightened voice, the amount of concern packed in it, I quickly headed to the foyer.

  Yesenia and Regan stood in the front doorway. Unlike this morning, Regan was in disarray, her hair up in a messy ponytail, her yellow top and white jeans replaced with a plain navy T-shirt and varsity shorts. Her usually chipper face was flooded with worry, her lips quivering.

  My guard switched to a protectiveness I couldn’t trace, and I stepped closer until I was right behind Yesi. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  Regan wiped at her glistening eyes. “T-Tanner ran away earlier. I just... I just wanted you guys to keep an eye out for him.”

  Yesenia’s hands rushed to her mouth. “Oh my God, are you guys looking for him right now?”

  Malika was down at the sidewalk, texting on her phone, dressed in biker shorts, a large T-shirt, and tennis shoes fit for the task of searching the neighborhood.

  Regan nodded. “Yeah, I looked earlier with my boyfriend, but I wanna keep trying.”

  “Can I help?” Yesenia was all too eager, not even wasting time to hear Regan’s response before she raced to ask our parents for permission.

  Regan lowered her gaze to our front porch and didn’t speak.

  My tongue felt heavy in my mouth. My hands lay limp at my sides. My legs wanted to move, but my brain stopped them, putting a halt to acting stupidly. Let her find her own dog, Memo.

  In no time Yesenia was back and grabbing her hooded jacket from the coatrack by the door.

  “I’m coming with you,” Yesi insisted.

  I gritted my teeth, accepting what was. “Be careful.” With my eyes on Yesenia, I spoke to both her and Regan. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I watched them link up with Malika before crossing the street and approaching a parked Rio.

  My stomach full of dread and regret, I went back to the kitchen, no longer hungry.

  Regan

  It became a routine, a vicious never-ending cycle: go to school, go to the center, look for Tanner, call and check the rescue centers for any sightings, go to sleep and repeat. It went on for days, and then weeks.

  I ran my hand over the missing dog poster, willing myself not to cry for the millionth time. It had been a tough few weeks since my father lost Tanner, weeks of agonizing hell.

  Everyone was raving about the amazing football season, and Troy was excited about all the press, and then there was me, moping about my lost dog. Some would consider it pathetic, but I didn’t care; Tanner was always there for me at the end of the day, and now he wasn’t.

  It wasn’t the first time Tanner had run away, but it was the first time he’d been gone for this long without a trace. The last time he ran he’d been gone for two weeks, and he came back so skinny, the thought of what even longer of not eating properly could do to him—

  Swallowing, I stopped my mind there. I refused to be negative about the situation. As much as I wasn’t a big fan of the idea, I relied on the hope that some nice family had found Tanner and taken him in. None of the local animal shelters had seen or captured him, and none of the vet clinics had a mystery dog patient. No one we’d talked to had spotted him on the streets.

  I let out a whimper, on the verge of tears again.

  In less than a mont
h, I’d be seventeen. Troy wanted to do something special, and I had a troubling idea what that meant.

  Though he’d calmed down since our talk at Freeze, it hadn’t stopped his overall intention of bedding me. There were still moments where he’d touch me and I’d clam up, and kissing always got too heated too fast now.

  It was such a tiresome back-and-forth that I didn’t care to argue anymore. Especially after my near slip with Guillermo. I hadn’t told Troy, because it was a mistake that neither of us were intent on acting on. None of us needed the drama that would ensue if Troy did know.

  Troy wasn’t concerned about Tanner, and I got it, Tanner wasn’t his dog, but his lack of support burned under my skin. He’d gone out looking with me the second night, too, but even then he’d cared more about the events on his timeline than focusing his flashlight in every bush and shadow we came across.

  My mother thought it was useless, sadly, as our subdivision was much too simple for Tanner to get lost in and for us to not see him. Meaning, he’d probably strayed farther outside of Briar Pointe.

  The thought brought my mood down as I came into the community center that Tuesday afternoon. I clocked in and read my tasks for the day and prepared to get distracted by work.

  Troy had a big game Friday, his final of the season. This year, our team wasn’t going to the postseason city series championship, but Troy wasn’t completely bummed. He was still being hounded by scouts regardless.

  My boyfriend was going to be huge someday.

  I was happy for him, really I was.

  Pressure pulsed in my temple and I did my best to massage it away.

  Relax, Regan, just breathe.

  I tried to pump myself up for Friday’s impending game, even mentally penciling in going shopping at some point to find something extra nice to wear for Troy. I just knew the party that evening was going to be epic.

  I pushed myself into my work, first watching the kids on the playground before coming inside and answering the phone for an hour.

  Around six, my mother came into the lobby, giving me a brief smile before sifting through the day’s mail. “Hey, Rey.”

  “Hey, Mom,” I replied.

  “Friday’s the big day,” she continued. “Think we’ll get a win?”

  I didn’t care. If we won, we won, and if we lost, maybe Troy would be unbearable.

  Forcing a smile, I said, “Of course, Troy and Tommy J are unstoppable. You know that.”

  My mother clearly agreed. “It will be an interesting season next year, that’s for sure.”

  “Tommy’s a great player, he’s going to own that field.”

  Because there was nothing worse than getting stuck in a sports conversation with my parents, I quickly stood from the front desk and gathered my schoolbag.

  “Well, I’m going on break,” I told her, then slipped away. I rushed up the corridor and around the corner before anything else could be said.

  Usually, I hid away and did my schoolwork in the conference room on the second level. Call me a punk, but in the past Troy had stopped by to surprise me—and mess around. He’d never think to check upstairs for me, no one would.

  I also loved the design of the conference room. One wall was large windows that overlooked the playground area. On the back wall hung a large forty-inch flat screen, and one wall held wallpaper filled with inspiring quotes and words.

  It was here that I could truly escape from it all—Troy, my father, and sometimes my mother, too. Here I could unwind and let myself breathe, and be whoever I wanted to be. The room always provided me security and peace of mind.

  Except, when I pushed open the door to the conference room, the light was already on. Not only that, someone was sitting at the large conference table.

  Guillermo.

  He had his school books laid out around him, letting me know he was also studying.

  I wasn’t sure how to approach him anymore. He had become distant since that night we played pool and almost lost our heads. The next day, when he’d said it would be best to stay away from each other, he’d meant it. He was still friendly with a wave or a “hi,” but he no longer paused to carry on a conversation.

  With one month down and five to go, it was clear Guillermo was making progress with the Respect program. At school, he kept to his group of friends, Jenaya and my brother, and sometimes Raviv from up the street. He was probably being extra cautious so as not to mess anything up. He was making smarter choices, but I didn’t like that avoiding me seemed to be one of them.

  Couldn’t we just be friends?

  Rejection was supposed to hurt, but the way Guillermo had done it stuck with me. He’d built me up just to walk away, but I couldn’t stop hearing him count my attributes on his fingers. He thought I was brave? I couldn’t even tell my father I wanted my own future. I couldn’t even figure out my relationship with my boyfriend most days. Brave was the last thing I was.

  “Hey.” I decided to test the waters as I entered the room, smiling at him.

  Guillermo looked up from his notebook and studied me for all of a second before scooting back from the table.

  His movement alerted me—I was interrupting him.

  Maybe I’d just go back down to the rec room, no sense bothering him. “I usually sneak up here to get away for a bit. Most of the kids just stick to the gym or rec room. I’ll let you—”

  “No.” Guillermo stood and gathered his things. “You stay.”

  I held my hand up. “No harm in sharing, right?”

  Guillermo stood there, weighing his options, obviously leaning toward leaving.

  Why were my feelings hurt?

  “Please.” I tilted my head. “I promise I’m not contagious.”

  Guillermo snorted and covered a grin. “I’m tryin’ to be good, dimples.”

  Dimples, his little nickname for me. At least we had that.

  “So, be good.” I edged into the room. “It’s just a little studying, right? And if I say hi to you in class, you don’t gotta be afraid to hold a conversation.”

  Guillermo shook his head, but he sat down regardless. “At least close the door. If your mom catches us, it’s my ass, not yours.”

  Right, that was the first step in perfecting my hideaway.

  Quickly, I closed the door, then grabbed a seat at the table. I ended up sitting across from him and two chairs down.

  I pulled out my chemistry homework, dreading it the most. Seriously, why did they insist on torturing us with this crap? Where in life would I ever need to balance chemical equations? I was really tripping when I thought taking chemistry was a great idea.

  “Having trouble?” Guillermo spoke up.

  I’d spent a good ten minutes attempting to understand what the heck I was supposed to be doing. “I suck at numbers. Throw in letters and I’m a complete disaster.”

  “Trig?”

  “Chemistry actually.”

  His gaze lingered on the worksheet before coming up to me. “I could help. I went to see Mrs. Renner after school about it.”

  Feeling playful, I flashed him a smile. “Can I copy your answers?”

  He rose from his chair, making a face. “But then how would you learn?”

  I held my breath as he came around the table. Instead of focusing on the smooth way he walked, I tried to take an interest in the first equation:

  P4O10 + H2O—> H3PO4

  Guillermo took the seat next to me, not shying away from me like usual. I realized, oddly, I had missed the comforting warmth of his nearness. All thoughts of chemistry went out the window as I watched him scoot closer, angle his head—exist next to me.

  “Chemistry is so not important,” I came out and said.

  A ghost of a smile swept over his lips, his dark eyes studying my face before burning into mine. “Some might say chemistry is the root of everything.
”

  My breath hitched in my throat. “Y-yeah?”

  He leaned close, teasing it seemed. “Yeah.”

  My brain scrambled and I blinked to come back to earth. “Okay.”

  “It’s really easy once you learn the process of balancing out the reactant side and the product side,” Guillermo explained, producing a sheet of blank paper. I watched as he wrote the problem down in his thick handwriting. “First, let’s write down the number of each atom on the reactant side, we have four phosphorus atoms, eleven oxygen atoms, and two hydrogen atoms...”

  Guillermo broke it down further, writing the amount under the reactant side of the equation.

  P4O10 + H2O

  P = 4

  O = 11

  H = 2

  He lifted his eyes to mine. “With me?”

  I bobbed my head, loving the gentle yet strong sound of his voice, the sight of his game face as he took the role of teacher seriously. “Yeah.”

  Guillermo looked on for a beat more before going back to the sheet of paper. “Okay, so let’s look at the product side. There’s three hydrogen atoms, one phosphorus atom, and four oxygen atoms...”

  —> H3PO4

  H = 3

  P = 1

  O = 4

  As he explained, I stared at the equation, chewing on my pen, still confused. And then...something clicked and I did a little mental math.

  “If I add a six coefficient to the H2O molecule, and add a four coefficient to the product side, it’ll balance, right?” I asked.

  Guillermo read over the problem without having to work it out himself. “Yep, try the next one.”

  CH4 + O2—> CO2 + H2O

  I followed his instructions, managing to balance the equation quickly. “Add a two coefficient in front of the molecule O2 on the reactant side, and then add a two coefficient to the molecule H2O on the product side?”

  He glanced at the equation before flashing me a smile. “You got it.”

  To my disappointment, he stood and went back around to his side of the table.