Taming Romeo

by Rachelle Ayala

You’d think I declared World War III at my house. After I showered, exfoliated, shaved, and bandaged, I emerge from the steamy bathroom and walk right into a posse of inquisitors, otherwise known as the Sánchez gang.

  They drag me into the kitchen and sit me in front of a plate of tapsilog, marinated beef strips, spicy, garlic rice and two eggs over easy. Not an auspicious start for the new vegan me. I pick at the rice and mumble about making a fruit salad.

  My family sits around the dining table, each waiting for the other to speak. Mama’s hands shake as she sips a cup of tea, while Choco looks nervously between me and Genie who is sitting at the far end of the table, her face marred with a huge pout. Even my youngest brother, Brian, the one with the normal name, has torn himself away from his video games to watch the amusement.

  Papa, of course, clears his throat. “Evie, it is disappointing to come across you consorting with a man on our own driveway.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t use such stiff language.” I plop my foot onto the chair. “Would you rather I took him to my bedroom?”

  “Evie!” Mama snaps. “Your brother’s listening. Brian, get ready for school.”

  “Brian’s sixteen, I’m sure he knows the score.” I’m unrepentant. If they want to rag on me for kissing a guy, they should know I’m not going to listen.

  Papa seems to stall, but Genie gives him a wide-eyed appeal, as if there’s more to say. Fine. I get that she’s jealous of me for having gone to the senior prom with Carlos while she isn’t allowed to attend any event unchaperoned due to my bad example. But this doesn’t call for a public flogging.

  Mama gamely takes the baton. “We know you’re distressed from your broken relationship, although we tried to tell you about the milk.”

  “Yeah, yeah, why buy the milk.” I roll my hands, then scoop a mouthful of rice. I lived with Eric. I played wife. Despite my busy schedule, I cooked his meals and kept our apartment clean, and yes, I slept with him. Shocking for the twenty-first century.

  Genie glares at me, her nostrils flaring as if she smells a stench. Maybe it’s her body odor, because I’m fresh from the shower.

  Papa sighs and taps the table for my attention. “It’s not your fault. Nobody told you.”

  He looks at Choco as if she should step in.

  She mimes, “Oh, no,” shaking her head, then puts her arm around Genie who acts like the hurt party.

  “Told me what? About the benefit concert he’s putting on at the restaurant?”

  They gape at me with their mouths open. Uh, guess that wasn’t the big news.

  “Then what?” I appeal to Choco. She knows everything.

  Genie lets out a small yelp, a stricken look on her face. “How could you, Evie?”

  Oh, I get it now! I slap my forehead. Brian’s smirk confirms it. Genie has a crush on Romeo and somehow, my family thinks he’s her intended. How wrong could they be? Had nobody peeked into the parking lot and seen him with Blondie? Vegan Blondie, to be exact.

  Mama comes to the rescue and pulls her chair close to me. She takes my hand and does the smoothing of my knuckles thing she does to comfort me. “Tita Elena has asked our permission for Romeo to court Genie and we granted it.”

  My first thought slams my brain out of the partially eaten tapsilog fog: Romeo is courting Genie? That’s impossible. He always thought her a brat.

  Second one rolls over the first: They’re accusing me of stealing my sister’s boyfriend.

  Third: Only Choco knows the truth, and she’s not coming to my defense.

  Indeed Choco avoids my gaze, but I’m not letting her off. “Choco, tell them Romeo’s my friend first.”

  Genie wipes a tear, or a fake one, and gives me the woe is me, you hurt me look before pawing Choco like a kitty wanting to be picked up.

  “I’m not taking sides between you two.” Choco scrambles from the table, all five-feet of her tiny self. “Come on, Brian, show’s over.”

  I gape at my parents. “Honestly, this is a big misunderstanding. I was out jogging and fell into a ditch. Look, my knee’s scraped, and see here, my palm is too. Romeo happened to drive by and gave me a ride. My side was already hurting and I caught a cramp in my calf. So, being the good guy he is, he naturally brought me home and when I got off the bike, I wanted to say thank you and…”

  No one’s listening. Like a summer thunderstorm, the family intervention blew in and blew away.

  Mama pushes from the table. “Eat, Evie. Romeo invited us to the movie set to watch a shoot.”

  “I’m not hungry, and actually I can’t eat meat and eggs anymore.” I bring the plate to the garbage disposal, but Papa stops me.

  “What do you mean, no meat and eggs?”

  “No milk, either.” Oh, this is going to be such a sacrifice. “I’m turning vegan as of today.”

  Mama’s quick to palm my forehead, her second favorite mother gesture. “Is there something you’re not telling us? Are you sick? Are you pregnant?”

  “No, Mama, I’m not pregnant. Sheesh.” Thankfully, my period started the day after Eric announced things weren’t working, which didn’t stop him from having goodbye sex, but I used protection and there are things they don’t need to know about. “Can I go now? When is this film shoot and where?”

  “UC San Diego Main Library. Four o’clock,” Papa says. “He specifically invited Genie, but I forbade her to ride on his motorcycle and he doesn’t have a car, so he got us all passes.”

  “Great.” I pick up my keys. “I still have time to go shopping for my vegan diet.”

  “I need the car. Mama and I are going to a gown fitting.” Genie sniffs, her nose in the air and glides off in her virginal splendor. I can’t believe my parents are letting her cut school, but she did get into Berkeley and all they have left is the prom and grad night.

  “Choco?” I call. “Can I borrow yours?”

  “Wait ten minutes. I’m coming with you.”

  Oh, yeah, Choco, you double agent. About time you tell me what’s really going on.

  # # #

  “Romeo’s a twerp.” Choco pulls her Toyota to a parking spot I direct her to. “Motorcycle gear?”

  “He asked me to buy a helmet. And to me, he’s not a twerp.”

  “He is from where I’m standing.” Choco locks the car. “I remember when he was five-years-old. He’d walk around pumping his puny muscles and ram me with body blows. He had this wrestler doll, I forget which one. Razor Ramon or the Rock. Anyways, he’d hit me with the doll. Annoying.”

  We step through the entrance of a motorcycle supply store. A friendly salesman greets us and Choco says, “Oh, no, not me. Her. I’m just her big sister.”

  He directs us to the women’s section and hands me off to a tall redhead who looks like she stepped out of one of those motorcycle calendars, the ones with women draped over the bikes in suggestive poses.

  While the saleslady takes my measurements, Choco is trying her best to look disapproving, predicting doom and gloom with her eyebrow gestures and her index finger across her throat. As soon as the saleslady leaves to gather sample supplies, Choco begins her sisterly harangue.

  “I don’t see why you want to restart this relationship.”

  “I’m not restarting anything. Romeo told me to get a helmet and I’m getting one. Leather pants, jacket, boots, and gloves might come in handy.”

  “You don’t have that kind of money. Just because Papa’s helping with med school doesn’t mean you should spend like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “The way things are now, I don’t know if I’ll ever go back. Besides, there might not be a tomorrow.” I thumb through a cycling magazine.

  “Ugh. You put me in such a tough position. You know what it’s like keeping your secret all these years?”

  “Apparently, you kept it so well, they think Romeo’s available. Or at least available to one of the Sánchez sisters.” I shove the magazine back on the counter and wander to the clothes rack.

  The saleslady returns with three full-fac
ed helmets. “These are more expensive, but believe me, you don’t want to get hit in the eye by a pebble at sixty miles per hour.”

  Five hundred bucks. Maybe Choco’s right. But what’s more expensive, a head injury or a helmet?

  “Oh, look, these jackets are kind of cute. Fire resistant with steel. But ouch.” Choco picks up the price tag.

  I wish she’d stop harping on the price. Mama pays me for waitressing and lets me keep the tips. True, the retirement crowd are not usually big tippers, but Mr. Dee always slips me an extra twenty as long as I tell his buddies I’m his girl.

  After deciding on my helmet, jacket, pants, and gloves, I follow the saleslady to the boot section.

  “You’re really going all out for this guy,” Choco says. “Doesn’t it bother you what we told you? That he’s courting Genie.”

  “Actually, it does.” I fix my narrowed eyes at her. “You should have said something. When did this come up and does Romeo even know he’s supposed to be courting our baby sister?”

  And I do put the emphasis on ‘baby.’

  Choco does this thing with her hands. “You and Romeo ever? You know.” She implies sex.

  I whistle in the breeze. The truth is we came close, but no, loose lips sink ships.

  “What if I told you we have? Would you tell Papa to call off this courting business?”

  “You didn’t.” Her eyes bug out. “I would have known if you did. Did you?”

  “Can we not talk about this?”

  The sales lady thankfully interrupts, “I brought one in size six and the other six and a half.”

  “Thanks.” I loosen the laces and remove the tucked tissue papers from the boots, then renew my interrogation of my disloyal elderly sister. “Whose idea? I’m sure it’s not Romeo because he would have told me.”

  “You think he’s so honorable, don’t you?”

  “Huh?” I shove my foot into the first boot. “If he’s not, why would you approve of him for Genie?”

  “Because I’m sure it’ll be temporary. Genie will go to college, get over her crush and grow up. In the meantime, Papa knows she’s with someone safe. Tita Elena guarantees it.”

  I don’t know whether to scream or strangle her. “Is that the line of bull he sold you? Did you see him with that blond bimbo? I bet he’s doing her too.”

  “Then why are you buying the gear?”

  A curl of worry swirls in my stomach, but I pass it off as if it were gas. “He’s an old friend. I’m here, he’s here, we’ll ride around for old time’s sake.”

  “And play tongue hockey on the way.”

  “Guilty as charged. Problem solved. Genie’s off the hook.” I walk around in the stiff steel-toed boots, my feet feeling invincible. Bring it on. I can’t wait to lean into the asphalt and fly over the back roads. Me. Romeo. And Juliet, his Yamaha.

  I hand my credit card to the saleslady and follow her to the front of the store.

  “Not quite,” Choco, always the sound of reason says. “There’s the matter of Tita Elena’s loan. You know about the expansion plans and the second restaurant in San Marcos? I mean, downtown’s great, but a lot of restaurants have opened branches up north.”

  “Yeah, I heard Papa talking about it.” My skin turns clammy. “Oh no. Are you saying?”

  Choco purses her lips and huffs from her nostrils. “Tita Elena put up the money for the San Marcos location. She leased the building and remodeled it. Eventually, she wants Romeo to settle down and manage the bakery side and she’ll forgive the loan if he marries Genie.”

  “And Romeo went along with this?” Now I’m seething. He’s practically betrothed to my baby sister, and he has the nerve to ask me why I ditched him at the prom five years ago? Forget the cycle gear. I’m outta here.

  “Miss? Enjoy your purchases.” The sales lady swipes my card and points to the pen pad. I’m about to blurt that I don’t want anything when I meet Choco’s raised eyebrows. I know that look, she’s betting on me to fight or die trying.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I sign away my sanity.

  “Will you need help to the car?” the lady says in a saccharine voice.

  “No, thanks.” I heft two large shopping bags of gear over my shoulder, my wallet twelve hundred dollars lighter.

  Romeo, Romeo, art thou worth it?

  Chapter 7

  The campus library at UC San Diego looks like a building straight out of a science fiction movie. It is an upside-down pyramid of concrete and glass jutting from a canyon of eucalyptus groves. We follow a decorated path made of colored tiles so realistic it’s like walking on the back of a giant snake. It winds up a landscaped slope, around a grove of trees representing the Garden of Eden, and past a monument of the book Milton’s Paradise Lost.

  The significance of all this is, of course, lost on my bickering family. First, we had an argument over who was riding with who. Genie, the wronged party, was given preferential treatment and went with the parents in the Lexus. Choco said she’d drive me and Brian, but last minute, Romeo showed up outside my bedroom window. While the family trampled to the garage, I pulled on my spanking new motorcycle outfit and expensive helmet and hopped onto his bike.

  I’m not being bitchy, but after questioning, no, interrogating Choco, she finally admitted that Romeo didn’t know the details of the loan, that he’d only been asked by his mother to call on our family with cake samples, and he was supposed to escort Genie to our cousin Julia’s wedding. Since all of this was planned by Tita Elena and my parents without my knowledge, I don’t feel obligated to play along. Besides, Romeo and I have unresolved business.

  My family gathers outside of the entrance and waits for me and Romeo to finish kissing. I’m going to have to make up to Genie somehow, but it’s obvious he can’t keep his lips and hands off me, and I’m completely incapable of resisting him.

  “Enough with the PDA.” I drag my mouth from his. All this angst is compounding my tachycardia, racing heartbeat, and tachypnea, rapid breathing. Hey, maybe I’ll lose a few pounds from the increased metabolic rate.

  “We need to talk.” He taps the tip of my nose. “How about dinner?”

  “That would be nice. Can we make it vegan?”

  He scrunches his face. “You too? Know of a good place?”

  “Yeah, there must be some nice places. Let me, uh, look it up while you do the shoot.”

  “I’m going to be hungry.” He dives back for another nip on my lips, growls, and gives me a loud smacking kiss.

  I can feel the waves of anger emanating from my family. Well, Brian doesn’t care. He’s got his skateboard and is doing jumps under a sign that says ‘No Skateboarding.’ Choco is torn between coming to me to get the scoop and showing a semblance of family loyalty to the Tita Elena/Mama grand plan.

  My eyes don’t leave Romeo’s back as he saunters toward the film crew. They’re setting up for an outdoor scene where the forbidden lovers meet for the first time under the apple tree. I know, pure cheese.

  Speaking of forbidden lover, where’s Blondie? Her character, Mildred Venables, is the nerdy mathematician who falls in love with Romeo’s character, Zeke Fernandez, a bad boy rock guitarist. I glance at the extras lined up near the library entrance, and then at the director who is slapping his clipboard and gesticulating wildly at his assistant.

  I choke back a laugh when I finally spot Blondie. She’s wearing zero makeup, is dressed in a dowdy jumper over a button-down shirt. Ha, ha. She’s got Birkenstocks on her feet, and the beautician is pulling her hair back into a severe bun. Romeo told me this is the scene where Zeke, his character, first bumps into Mildred. Frankly, I can’t see the attraction. Without the heavy eye shadow and miles long mascara I saw her with the other day, she looks as plain and nondescript as a newborn lab rat. I’m going enjoy this shoot more than I thought.

  “What are you doing here?” A harried looking man with glasses drags me by the elbow. “Get to makeup. You’re late.”

  “Uh, I’m not part of this.” I literal
ly dig in my heels.

  He snaps his glasses off, glares at me with steely gray eyes and swipes his greasy hair with his other hand. “Aren’t you the replacement for Susie Sotelo? Even if you’re not, you’ll do. Let’s go.”

  I do not like being manhandled by nervous, high-strung film makers. “I’m not playing any part. This is a mistake.”

  “You have the hots for Romeo? That’s all you need to do. Walk sexy along the snake path and glare at them.” He taps my helmet. “You already have the prop.”

  He shoves me into a trailer. “Susie Sotelo. Make her up.”

  A pair of hands removes the helmet from my hands while another pair pushes me onto the barber’s chair.

  “Close your eyes.” “Lift your chin.” “Wait, wait, keep your lips still.” “A little spritz.” “There, a beauty mark.”

  Someone twists a grease pencil at the corner of my lips. After combing and teasing my hair, followed by more spritzes and eye shadow, I’m declared ready.

  The guy who corralled me returns and hands me my helmet. “You’ll start at the tail of the snake. All you have to do is watch that clicky board. I’ll count down, board clicks and you start walking. Not too fast. You know he’s there and you see him talking to the nerd. You’re steamed, but you’re not going to show it. He loves biker chicks and you’re one badass chick. So strut your stuff, slow and sexy. You’re shooting him smoldering looks, but you’re not staring at them. Every man within a hundred foot radius has his eyes on you and his dick pointing your way and you know it. Stop on the tongue of the snake and run your right hand through your hair, then raise your face to the sun, eyes partially closed as if it’s giving you a frickin’ orgasm. Got it?”

  “No prob.” I hang him a wink as he positions me on the snake path. I have to admit he’s kind of cute with that harried, beta male, I-gotta-talk-fast-because-no-one’s-paying-attention look.

  “Keep your eyes on the clicky board, but move off it fast. You’re not on camera until two seconds into the scene. No matter what, don’t look at us or the camera.”

  “I got it.” Didn’t he register my conspiratorial wink? “Now, go. I’m getting hot in all this leather.”