From the look on Reyes’s face, he doesn’t believe me, either.
He lets out a slow breath and shakes his head in frustration. “All right. You two, over by the squad cars. Now!”
I’m told to spread my legs so Reyes can pat me down.
“Got any weapons, drugs, or needles on you, Luis?”
“No,” I say.
“You high or drunk?” he asks, his hands patting up and down my legs.
“No.”
“Then why were you fighting?”
I shrug. “Just felt like it, I guess.” I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit if the pendejo called us wetbacks and thinks Mexicans should be second-class citizens.
“Think hard, because I’m the one who’s gonna have to call your mother to explain why I have you in custody and suspect you were dealing some pretty serious shit. I’d rather give her a reason why you thought it was a good idea to come all the way to the north side of town to cause trouble.”
What, does Reyes think that poor Mexicans are only allowed on the north side to mow lawns and clean houses, too? “I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” I tell him.
“Really? Why are you here?”
“He was invited,” Derek’s voice calls out. “By me.”
“And who the hell are you?” Reyes asks.
“I live here.”
“Let me see some ID.” Derek pulls out his ID and Reyes examines it.
Reyes gives a short laugh. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“Listen, I’m sure you’re aware that the legal drinking age in Illinois is twenty-one. You’re eighteen.” Reyes tsks and shakes his head. “Where are your parents?”
“Vegas.”
“So you thought you’d host yourself a birthday bash while they were gone?”
Derek nods. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Uh-huh. Get everyone out of your house, lock it up, and come to the station with us so we can call your parents,” Reyes says.
Derek is one cool gringo to come out here and vouch for me. “Don’t take him in, Reyes,” I say. “Give the guy a break. It’s his birthday.”
Reyes shakes his head. “Birthdays aren’t a license to break the law, Luis.”
I’m led to the back of one of the squad cars, while Marco and Derek are led to the other. Two officers drive them away while Reyes walks over to Dougan and his buddies. He talks to them for a while, taking notes the entire time. After a while Reyes and his partner walk back to the squad car I’m in.
Reyes gets in the driver’s seat and turns to me. “You really screwed up tonight.”
“Tell me ’bout it.”
“Listen, Luis. I care about your mother. You being involved in fighting and drug dealing is gonna hurt her real bad.”
“I already told you the coca wasn’t mine.”
“Was it your buddy’s stash?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Here’s the deal. I’m gonna let you and your friends off tonight after calling their parents, because I didn’t find the drugs on your person and a few witnesses said that you and Marco were harassed before the fight. But I’ll be watching you like a fucking hawk from now on. If I find out you’re dealing or getting into more fights, I’ll be on your ass so fast your head will spin.”
Shit, this guy is worming his way into mi'amá’s life, and now he’s going all parental on me. I’ve lived without a father my entire life, and have done just fine.
“You’re not my father,” I remind him.
“You’re right. If I were, I’d lock you in juvie for the night to teach you a lesson.”
22
Nikki
I let my guard down, which was not in the plan. Tonight, when Luis and I were in the pool house, I allowed myself to believe Luis and Marco are completely different.
That was before I saw him fight.
Luis and Marco were on the same side, fighting Justin and some guys from the football team. Luis’s fists were flying, and the worst part about it was that I think he liked it—as if the fight fed some need in him.
I don’t know who started the fight. It doesn’t matter, really. Luis didn’t walk away. Instead, he was the last man standing, ready to take anyone on that would dare challenge him. He didn’t stop until the cops physically restrained him.
And then I saw the drugs on the ground right by his feet.
I can’t be with someone who fights and deals drugs. Marco used to fight so much he’d get suspended. Principal Aguirre says he has a zero tolerance policy, but quickly realized when our class entered Fairfield freshman year that if he gave everyone three strikes and then expelled them, there’d hardly be any students from the south side left. Aguirre still threatens to expel students, but rarely follows through.
I need to force myself to stop thinking about Luis. As I fall into bed after I get home, I can’t help but hate myself for feeling so vulnerable tonight. I let go of my inhibitions and knew what I was doing. But Luis didn’t tell me he was dealing drugs—that’s a game changer.
Sunday morning comes and I wake up hoping Granny has started eating on her own.
“How is Granny doing?” I ask Sue.
“She won’t eat much. She’s definitely depressed.”
I go to her cage and sit with her.
Granny sniffs the air as soon as I open her cage. “Hey, girl,” I say as I reach out and lead her to my lap. “Did you miss me?”
Her answer is a wag of her tail. She looks thin. Too thin.
I pet her behind the ears and she rolls onto her back. When she seems content, I pick up the food in her bowl and hand-feed her. She eats from my hand when I put the food to her nose.
“Want me to take you home?”
She answers by nuzzling her nose into my leg.
“I just have to convince my parents to let me take you,” I tell her.
When I’m home and I tell my parents about Granny, they both say I can’t have her.
“You have too much going on,” Mom says.
“And when you’re off to college, then what?” Dad says.
“But she’s old, and blind, and living in a cage! If you were old and blind, would you want to spend your last days in a cage?” I argue.
Mom pats my hand. “Nikki, we think it’s admirable for you to want to help the dog, but—”
I sigh. “Just … can you meet her? Meet her first, then make a decision, okay? I’m sure she’ll be a great pet, and I know when you take one look at her you’ll have the same opinion that I do about her.”
They both look at me as if I’m pathetic. I know what they’re thinking, that I’m trying to take care of a needy animal because I need to be wanted. We’ve covered this ground before. Maybe they’re right. I can’t help but have a special bond with the less fortunate dogs who come into the shelter—the ones who seem helpless. I root for the underdog, every time.
“I’ll tell you what,” Dad says. “Next weekend, if Granny is still there, your mother and I will go meet her.”
A big grin crosses my face. “That’s awesome! Thanks so much!” I hug both of them.
“We’re making no promises, Nikki.”
“I know, I know.” Well, I do know. Once they see Granny they’ll fall in love with her.
On Monday, the buzz about the fight at Derek’s house, the arrests, and the drugs found by Luis’s feet is running rampant. I can’t walk down any hall without hearing something about Luis, Derek, or Marco.
I get some sideways glances, too. Everyone at school knows Marco and I dated, and some still associate us together.
I avoid eye contact with Luis even when he calls out my name, and during lunch I sit in the library and study for my calculus exam so there’s no chance of meeting with him or Marco. I know I’ll be seeing Luis in chemistry, though.
I time my arrival so I get to chemistry just as the bell rings.
“You can’t ignore me forever,” Luis whispers behind me when Mrs. Peterson instructs us to go to the sink
in the back of the room to clean out our test tubes.
“Yes, I can,” I tell him.
“What about Saturday night, in the pool house?”
I freeze, remembering the moment I let go of all my inhibitions. That was a mistake, and the wall is up again. “I’m trying to forget it.”
“You can try, but it’s not gonna work.” He leans closer. “I can’t forget it either, you know.”
His words stir something deep inside me, and I need to lash out at him to push him away. “You know what sucks, though? You starting a fight just minutes later with Justin Dougan and finding out that you were dealing drugs.”
He steps back and weaves a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that was a bummer. You know what sucks even more, though?”
“What?”
“That you’re so desperate to believe everythin’ bad you hear about me. You’re obviously not a supporter of the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ concept.”
“Mr. Fuentes,” Mrs. Peterson calls out. “Stop the chatter. Are you aware there are people in back of you who need to use the sink?”
Luis looks right at our teacher and says, “To be honest, Mrs. P., I don’t really give a shit.”
23
Luis
I’m done worrying about getting detentions—staying after school for an hour is obviously going to be a common occurence so I might as well embrace it. In fact, the last time I had a detention I actually got some homework done. The problem is getting a detention from a teacher who insists that you serve the detention in her classroom instead of in the cafeteria with all the other delinquents.
I’m sitting on my usual lab stool and I pull out homework. I’m about to work on math problems when Peterson stands over me.
I look up at her. She’s giving me the evil eye, which would make me laugh if I didn’t think she’d give me another detention if I did.
“Hi,” I say.
“Don’t Hi me. What’s going on with you?” She crosses her arms on her chest, and I can just sense the wrath of Nadine Peterson is about to hit like a tornado. “You know better than to cuss in my class. You also know having private spats in the middle of a class experiment is unacceptable.”
“I’m havin’ a bad day.”
“From the look of the bruises on your face, I’d also say you had a bad weekend. Want to talk about it?” she asks as she sits on Derek’s chair and leans on the lab table. I get the sense that she’s parked in that spot and isn’t about to move until I spill.
“Not really.”
“Okay, don’t talk. I’ll do the talking, and you can listen.”
I put a hand up, stopping her. “You can save your breath.”
“My motto is you can’t have too many lectures. Ask your brother to confirm my philosophy.
“Sometimes you’re on a great path, and you reach a fork in the road. Sometimes you decide to go straight, and all is fine and dandy. But then sometimes the other paths look a little interesting, so you choose to switch things up a bit.”
“And your point is?”
“Don’t switch things up, Luis. I’ve known your family since you were eleven years old. You’re smart like Alex, you have the drive like Carlos, and you’ve got a boyish charm all your own that’s endearing. You can lose it all like this,” she says, snapping her fingers.
“Sometimes you have no choice about what path you follow. Sometimes you’re forced into it,” I respond.
She sighs. “I know it’s not easy. Alex started out on a destructive path, but found a way to make it right. I know you will, too.” She waves a finger in my face, acting like the stern teacher she’s always been. “And if you cuss in my class again, I’m going to personally drag you down to Dr. Aguirre’s office.”
“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know,” I tell her. “Your zero tolerance policy has too many gray areas.”
She gives a harrumph and slides off the stool. “It’s the pregnancy. I assure you after I push this kid out I’ll come back to school meaner than ever.”
“Somethin’ to look forward to,” I say sarcastically.
After detention, I head over to Brickstone.
“You’re late,” Fran says as I pass her in the lobby.
“I know. My chemistry teacher made me stay after school. It won’t happen again.”
“Make sure it doesn’t. I don’t tolerate tardy employees.” She narrows her eyes and steps closer. “What happened to your face?”
Oh, hell. I could lie and tell her I fell down the stairs, but I doubt she’ll believe me. I might as well just fess up. “I got in a fight.”
She motions for me to follow her into her office. “Sit down,” she says, pointing to the guest chair. She folds her hands on top of her desk and leans forward. “I’ve hired and fired more employees in my career then I’d like to admit. I know you’re a new employee, but today you’re late and have bruises on your face. My guests don’t want to be served by delinquents. I’ve seen kids like you who are on a downward spiral that only gets worse. I’ve given them chance after chance, but to be honest, it never works out in the end. I wish I had better news for you, but my instincts tell me I’m going to have to let you go.”
“I’ve had a bad week. Just give me another chance,” I say, but she’s already walking toward the door.
“I’m sorry. Your last paycheck will be sent to your home.” Fran glances at her watch, a sign that my time is up. “I wish you all the best in your future endeavors. Bill!” she yells out. “Mr. Fuentes here is no longer an employee. Please escort him off the property.”
First she fires me, then she gets a bouncer to kick me out. Talk about adding insult to injury.
I follow Bill to the front entrance. “It’s not you,” he says as I hand over my name tag and am told to get in his security vehicle, also known as a golf cart. “We’ve had some incidents in the past with former employees who stayed on the premises to cause havoc.”
“No prob, man. You’re just doin’ your job.”
After being escorted off of Brickstone premises, I take my time walking home. How the hell am I gonna explain getting fired to mi'amá? It’s bad enough she hasn’t talked to me since she picked me up from the police station on Saturday night. On top of that I’ve got Chuy telling me I’m already a Latino Blood; Nikki, who thinks I’m a piece of shit drug dealer; Peterson breathing down my neck; a cop making moves on mi'amá; and now I get fired.
Talk about a week from hell.
A big black SUV pulls up beside me. It’s Chuy. “Hey, Fuentes. Get in the car.”
When I was a kid I knew to stay away from Chuy. I once overheard Alex tell Paco that Chuy was a crazy motherfucker who’d profess to be your best friend one minute and point a gun at your head the next. Chuy’s older now, with weathered skin and empty eyes. Mi'amá warned me to stay away. I’m not afraid of him, and I want to know what he’s up to. I don’t know if that makes me tough or just plain stupid.
I get in the car and admire the clean leather seats and sweet sound system. “Where are we goin’?”
“The warehouse.” He blows out smoke from his cigarette. It lingers in the car before slowly disappearing. “You ever been there?”
“No.”
“It’s time, amigo.” He drives through town. I notice him looking through the rearview mirror and glancing around, probably making sure we’re not being followed. He makes a quick turn onto a small street between the railroad tracks and an industrial park. It doesn’t take long before we drive through a wooded area and come upon a building that has a big sign on it saying QUINTERO SHIPPING AND RECEIVING. It’s always been a front for the Latino Blood hangout. And now that Chuy is back, the place is buzzing again.
I take it all in, wondering how come this guy trusts me.
“Come on,” Chuy says. “You and I need to have a little chat.”
A few guys are hanging out front. He flags the Latino Blood gang sign, and they flag back, before parting and letting us pass.
He leads me to a room off to the side, with a huge leather couch facing a big flat-screen TV.
“Sit down,” Chuy orders as he pulls out another cigarette and lights it.
I want to know what the hell he wants from me, without the bullshit. “I’m fine.”
He shrugs, then sits on the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. “I want to be friends. I’ve kept an eye on you since you left Fairfield. You’re a smart kid, Luis. Smarter than most pendejos out there.”
“You kicked the shit out of my brother and left him for dead. You don’t want to be friends, Chuy. You want to use me as a pawn.”
“We’re all pawns, Luis. The bottom line is that the Blood needs you, and it’s your time to step up. Everyone has to step up sometime.”
“To fill my brother’s spot?”
“Sure, if you want to rationalize it that way. The Blood is comin’ back to Fairfield. You’re either with us or against us. Alex knew the score and was smart enough to come on board. He knew the consequences of not joinin’ when approached to be a part of our brotherhood. He’s out. The burden is on you now.”
“What are you sayin’?”
He pulls out a Glock from the waistband of his jeans, places it on the coffee table with a loud thud, then looks up at me with a stern, serious expression. “You want to keep your family safe, don’t you?”
24
Nikki
I am a big believer in the justice system. The fact that Luis insinuated I judged him unfairly is just …
Okay, maybe I did judge him. But the evidence was right there, at his feet.
During dinner, I can’t eat. The hurt look on Luis’s bruised face after I told him he was dealing drugs makes me feel horrible. After dinner, I go to Kendall’s house.
I plop myself on Kendall’s purple beanbag chair in her room and spill everything. “I called Luis out, and he got pissed that I judged him before hearing his side. I feel like crap now. Luis and I fooled around in Derek’s pool house right before the fight. It was intense.” I get butterflies in my stomach remembering how far we went. “I don’t remember it ever being that intense with Marco, and it scared me. I can’t get sucked into a relationship with a guy who’s gangbanging and dealing.”
Simone Elkeles - [Perfect Chemistry 03] Page 12