“Who wins?” I asked Mama.
“I believe Dimitri. See, you have two pairs, Noel has three of a kind, and Dimitri has a straight flush,” Mama said and signed.
“Oh, man!” I said and signed.
“Looks like we’ll be cleaning Dimitri’s room this week,” Noel said and signed.
“Leave a mint on my pillow, bro,” Dimitri said and signed.
“If I win next round, we can call it a wash. Then we each clean our own room,” Noel said and signed.
“Let me see that happen first. You look a little too happy for a loser,” Dimitri said.
We pulled up to the tall steel gates engraved with the letter “M” for “Mercedes.” Grandpapa ran up to the car. Dimitri jumped out and gave him a head nod. “What up?”
“No more niño. How are you, Dimitri?” Grandpapa held his arms out wide. Dimitri walked right past Grandpapa. “Where have you been?” Grandpapa asked Dimitri.
“In school,” Dimitri said. It was only a matter of time before Grandpapa would get around to giving me the third degree about why I hadn’t seen him and Nana for two years. I couldn’t verbalize my hiatus. “I made the dean’s list this semester,” Dimitri said.
“That’s my boy!” Grandpapa gave Dimitri a high five. Then Grandpapa set his eyes upon me, his only granddaughter. “Ay, how is my beautiful granddaughter?” he asked and signed.
Grandpapa didn’t really know sign language that well but he always tried. He was the sweetest Grandpapa ever. So I signed back. “Grandpapa!” I signed. Then I threw my arms around him and squeezed as tight as I could. “I missed you and Nana,” I said and signed. “Como es Nana?”
Talking to Grandpapa was funny. He was from Ecuador, and Nana grew up a Southern Baptist, born in the pre-civil rights era. She knew a lot about the world. She and Mama were the best of friends.
I had to string together practically the only Spanish words I had learned last semester. I didn’t even know if I was pronouncing them correctly. “Come see, you come see. Why haven’t I seen you since two years?” Grandpapa pointed at me.
“I know … I been working. Trabajo,” I said.
“Trabajo? Tu? No, no. You no need job,” he said.
“I do need to work, Grandpapa. All this costs big bucks. I have to pay,” I laughed.
“You silly girl.” I hadn’t realized Dimitri was following behind us so closely.
“Why don’t you tell him about your modeling?” Dimitri said.
“Modeling? You smart girl. Too smart for model?” Grandpapa shook his head in disapproval. I was surprised Nana hadn’t told him. I had sent her a special frame with my first five covers and some of my best ad spreads from U.S. and French magazines. Lisa had it made for me. I couldn’t look at it every day. I’d only wonder if it was me. The only me I wanted to look at every day was the girl I saw in the mirror. Only, sometimes, the mirror confused me.
Dimitri brushed past me harshly. He slammed his duffel bag into my shoulder. I nearly fell over. He had a way of blindsiding me.
“Are you okay?” Grandpapa caught me. “Dimitri!” Grandpapa shook his finger to say “No, no.”
Dimitri smiled. “Sorry,” he said.
“Grandpapa, Dimitri needs a place to stay. Can he live with you and Nana? He can’t get housing at school.”
“Ay!” Grandpapa grabbed Dimitri and hugged him. “Of course my grandson come live with me. What I do in that big apartment, just me and Estelle? You come stay. We have a big room for you.” Grandpapa followed Dimitri upstairs. “Maybe you move in August?” I smiled at Dimitri. It was nearly impossible to tell Grandpapa no.
Mama had redecorated the house the year before the accident.
The paint on the walls reminded me of the ocean. Soft blue-green was the color of the living room and the hallways, and a touch of sun-kissed yellow covered the bathroom walls. Mama and Daddy used to take us to the shore at sunset when we were kids. Back then, Dimitri and I would play together. We’d make sandcastles and play tag. My room was cotton-candy pink. I used to love cotton-candy pink until I discovered that clothes came in a whole palette of fun colors. And the fact that there were dozens of types of pink.
My favorite in the house, though, was the crisp white kitchen. I snuck past the living room, purposefully avoiding Nana for the time being. I remember the first time I had met Grandmother, Mama’s mother. Grandmother, Nana, and Mama all sat around the glass-top island and told stories about when Mama and Daddy were little. I was eight. It was one of the best moments ever. When I walked into the kitchen, I remember the scent of Mama’s peach cobbler. It was Grandmother’s recipe. She wrote it down for me that day. I still had it tucked away in my box of memories of my mother. One day, I had hoped to make it for Noel.
I opened the refrigerator. Edna had come out yesterday to get everything set up. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her yet. Maybe we could go to town and go grocery shopping. I wanted to learn some new recipes. The country was the only place Mama cooked. I wanted to know how to cook … something—at least a piece of meat or tofu. Got that one from another model I had met at a shoot last fall. He asked me if I liked tofu. I said I’d never had it. He asked if he could take me to this vegetarian place downtown. Had he not looked like he was over 21, I might have considered it.
Dimitri shoved me out of the way so he could stand in front of the refrigerator. “Yo, you know if Edna made any lemonade before she left?” he asked.
“Left? Where did she go?” I asked.
“She didn’t tell you? She’s gone for two days to visit her friends somewhere in Nassau County,” he said.
Gone? I’d have to go back on Wednesday for Thursday’s shoot. Maybe we could cook on Tuesday. “Does today count in the two days?”
“How the hell should I know?” he said.
Well, good luck with the lemonade. I pulled some fudge cookies out of the cabinet. Dimitri passed me by and grabbed two cups from the cabinet in front of me. I guess Grandpapa had put him to work. “Good hunting. Did Dad tell you that Noel graduated last week?” I dropped the carton of cookies I was cradling right onto the floor. “I like those. Pick those up.”
Had he just said what I thought he said? I had dreamed. No, I knew I shouldn’t go back to those dreams. My breathing became more and more erratic. Would he be coming home? Why didn’t we go to Noel’s graduation? He should be coming home! “How do you know this?” I wanted to grab Dimitri by the collar and pull his face close to mine to inspect his eyes. Would they betray him if he was lying? Something feverish was coming over me. “Well?” I insisted.
“What the deal? Don’t tell me … you still have a thing for Mr. Rogers.”
Thing? I was growing impatient of his insolence. “How do you know this? Or are you lying?”
“Nah, this is not important enough to lie about. I saw the invitation lying around Dad’s office. It came in the mail like a month ago. Then …” He took several gulps of lemonade, then proceeded to fill his cup again until there was no more hand-squeezed lemonade left for anyone else. My leg involuntarily began to twitch. “Just before I left, I saw one of Dad’s assistants shredding it.”
I put my hand to my chest. “Why?”
“What?” Dimitri laughed.
I felt so disconnected. What was I supposed to do now? What could I do? The tears were back. They never stayed away for long. They began swelling in my eyes, weighing down my lower lids. A knot was in my heart. Why hadn’t I gotten it yet? Daddy would always hurt me just as he would always hate Noel. The air seemed so shallow. I could do nothing. The pain of losing Noel would be permanent. I was out of my league.
“I hate you,” I told Dimitri. For once in all the years since the accident, he had no smart reply, no snide remark, no nasty retort. I had never said such a thing to him. I walked away slowly. My world so silent for the first time in a long time, I felt only the echoes of pain in my heart.
I had tucked my hopes of loving Noel again away deep inside. It was the reason I woke up ev
ery morning. To know that realizing my dream was so close but so far was excruciating. How could my frail frame hold such pains without bursting? Behind the guise of a smile and the enchantment of a girl’s eyes would grow the deepest sorrow I had ever known. Had a final death come to our love? Was it only me who still thought of us and how we used to be long ago? Losing Mama was horrific. But if I had lost her forever, yet knew she was alive somewhere, I would try. I would try every day to find her.
“The Saloon @ 2. Pick you up in half,” a text from Sierra said. I walked up to my room. I caught a glimpse of Nana napping. I looked at my watch. Thirty minutes until Sierra would be here. I had to clean my face before anyone could see me.
Chapter 2 The Saloon
I watched Dimitri make a wide U-turn on Main Street. He parked the Ferrari right in front of the Saloon and gave a head nod to a few seniors standing outside. He walked through the wooden Western-style shutter doors. Each side of the room had labels: east and west. Dimitri walked to the east side. I was still upset with him about our conversation earlier. He just told me things whenever he felt like it. I stood at the bar quietly. Sierra was in the corner with Frenchy. I smiled to say hi to a girl from my AP Chemistry class. I was in no hurry to return to the table. It was pretty crowded in the Saloon.
The Saloon was a chill hangout. The stainless-steel bar glistened from across the room. The flat-screen on the east side of the room played hip-hop and R&B music videos. The flat-screen on the west side of the room played pop and rock music videos. The ceiling was full of strobe lights. The windows were tinted a special electric blue so you could see out, but it was hard to see in.
Dimitri settled into a corner booth with a few of his old high school acquaintances. Something told me he was too thrilled about being a freshman in college. He refused to get housing near school. I ran into him often with his high school friends at the house and occasionally in the neighborhood.
Cara—a mystery to me, at best—had just sauntered through the shutter doors. She gave Sierra and Frenchy a head nod. I guessed that was going around this season. Bold island colors were back, and so was the head nod. She walked over to the bar with a slight twitch in her hips. The guys surely liked it. I caught a few eyeing her as she walked by. I caught myself watching people at times. I was beginning to think that how people moved, rather than what they said, told you what they were really about. For a while now, I’d been finding it hard to believe what people said. My father used to say a lot of things that now didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even think he remembered. Maybe Dimitri was right. Maybe I shouldn’t remember so much. Part of why Sierra and Frenchy were my 24/7 was because they were the only two I could trust. Cara? Hmm. I didn’t have an instinct on her yet. The channel was blocked. And her walk was questionable.
Tattoos were always of interest to me. I watched as Cara walked over to the twins. Her star tattoo on her back peaked through her shirt. “Where’s Milan?” Cara asked the twins.
“Somewhere around here. What, you don’t want to hang out with us?” Sierra asked. Frenchy’s eyes searched Cara’s. Then she looked away.
“Want to locate Milan? Why don’t you start with her brother over there?” Frenchy pointed to Dimitri.
Clearly, they were annoyed with her. They wouldn’t sic Dimitri on her unless they wanted to best her. Cara’s eyes lit up. I was starting to feel a little bad. Hopefully she hadn’t fallen for the earring and the smile. I thought about walking up to her, but my gut told me to hold on.
“Brother. Try him, I might,” Cara said.
“I thought you were the girl who had the deal on everything,” Sierra said.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t,” Cara said.
“He’s really friendly,” Frenchy said.
“Wow! I wasn’t thinking of that exact adjective,” Sierra said, nudging Frenchy.
I walked slowly through the crowd. I felt a tug on my arm. I turned around. A young boy had grabbed hold of my wrist. “Can I buy you a coffee or something? You’re probably healthy. Too beautiful to be a coffee head. I mean … if you like coffee. Uh … it doesn’t mean you’re a coffee head,” he said. I laughed. He was very cute—just a little young. He had light brown eyes, long, curly hair, and a nice smile. He was five-foot-10, maybe.
In my mind, there was him and there was Noel.
“I’m Andrew. What’s your name?” he said.
“I’m Milan,” I said.
“What are you doing around here?” he asked.
“First weekend out, right?”
“Oh. I’ve been out since last week. I was here. It wasn’t as packed. You know,” he said.
“Thanks for asking … about the coffee. I just have to get over to my girls. Maybe I’ll see you around, Andrew,” I said.
“Oh. Uh … okay, cool! Nice to meet you, Milan.” He shook my hand.
“Nice to meet. If you see me at the club or something, definitely shout. Maybe we can swim or something together.” I couldn’t believe I said that. It just came out. Such a weird day so far.
As I walked through the crowd, I could feel the eyes watching me. I smiled at a few of the staring faces. This was nothing new. After my fifth cover and the Undercover Starlet campaign, anonymity ceased to exist.
Cara smiled at me. She had beauty across her face. But her vibe wasn’t as pleasant. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey, Mommie,” Sierra said.
“Mimi,” Frenchy said. I double-kissed Frenchy, then Sierra, and lastly Cara.
“Hello, darling. You look quite cute today,” Cara said. All I had on was a basic white tank top, a deep blue denim miniskirt, and yellow leather kitten heels. Our styles were very different. Cara had on a teal tube top with matching teal jewelry and skin-tight skinny jeans. She was wearing five-inch yellow platform heels. The twins, yin and yang, were dressed in similar outfits, surprisingly. This hadn’t happened since the second semester of junior year. Sierra was dressed in a white tube-top dress, flip-flops, and smoky eyes, which made her blue eyes pop more. Frenchy had on a soft pink crushed-cotton fitted tube dressed with baby-blue piping along the bottom and five-inch pink stilettos. She had on light pink shadow that made her blue eyes stand out. We all studied Kevyn Aucoin’s book harder than we studied for chemistry.
“So what’s up?” I asked.
“Nada!” Sierra said.
“I like that. Head-start on Spanish 2 next semester. We need it!” I laughed.
“Sweetie, we were just about to work the room and meet a couple of hotties. Do come with,” Cara said.
“I didn’t say I was going,” Sierra said.
“Come on,” Cara tugged on Frenchy’s arm.
We all started across the room. “So my Dad’s assistant got over 40 celebrities confirmed for tonight’s party. The DJ is so hot. He did MDNA’s last tour!” Cara said. How much bragging could we take? This was a little unusual for us.
“And then what?” Sierra texted.
“Excuse me,” Frenchy walked off into the crowd.
“Some poor college boy, no doubt. She could find the brokest college rat even in this room,” Sierra said.
“Oh, stop it. That is not nice,” I said.
“Hopefully, he has a way to get home in the morning. We’re supposed to be sharing a car. My grandfather promised to let her drive his old Camry, but she thinks I should drive that since I got my license after her. My car is working,” Sierra said. Yikes! I didn’t want to talk about Frenchy. This was bad business. Sierra was supposed to be the angelic sister, and Frenchy was the storm.
“See any cute guys yet?” I asked.
“The jury is still out,” Sierra said. Just then, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. It kind of tickled. I turned around and was met with friendly dark eyes. He was about six-foot-two. He was built, too. He had athletic broad shoulders, muscular legs, and a cute crooked smile. His T-shirt and cargo shorts were really lacrosse-boyish. He reminded me of a comic book character. He was kind of like Jughead with more of a sun-kissed complexion
.
Had I eaten one too many five-cent bubble gums wrapped in Archie comics? I guess this made me Veronica—I laughed at the thought.
“I’m Merek,” he said. I turned around for a second. Sierra was out of sight. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Cara had made a beeline for Dimitri. Odd, yet interesting. What did she want with him? What did she want with us, for that matter? Maybe just to be friends. Was I that rusty at making new friends?
“I’m Milan.”
“You seem to know many people from my school,” he said.
“Is that so?”
“Maybe I should know you. You go there?” he asked.
“Yeah. What year are you?”
“I’ll be a senior next year,” he said.
“Where did you go before?”
“Beverly Hills High.”
“A West coaster! That’s where the wicked tan comes from. Beach bum.” I laughed.
He had very fine features. His petite nose added to my comic book theory. It was as if someone had drawn his nose. He had big, manly hands. I noticed because he kept fumbling with them.
“Well, not a true, as you call it, West coast boy. My father is a diplomat. I’ve lived in a few places. For now, we call New York home,” he said.
“Good choice.”
“Now that I met you. I will thank my father. New York is a great choice,” he said.
I felt something about him. Odd.
“Did you have something to drink?” he asked.
“Chai Tea Latte is my drink.”
He stood there for a moment, thinking.
“Uh. I got it,” he said.
I watched him walk away. What was I doing? He turned around and walked back toward me. I bit my lip a little. It’d been two years since I let a guy buy me anything. And for good reason, I had to remind myself. “I see you came here with three girls. Do they want something?”
“It’s okay. I don’t see all of them at the moment. Don’t worry. That was sweet, though,” I said.
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