After the Before

by Gomez, Jessica

  We finished our conversation and the principal was dismissing me to first period when I walked out and caught the last few words the secretary said to Jasmine. Her face was drained of all color, and her eyes were wild with panic – like the words knocked all the air out of her body.

  The hefty secretary’s words had caused her distress. The stricken expression on her face was enough of a signal to know that she was beginning to lose it. I knew that kind of anxiety better than most people, and it was the last thing I wanted Jasmine to deal with on her first day back at school.

  I had the sudden need to speak up for her… to protect her somehow, even though my goal for the year was to avoid Jasmine. I have no ties to the person I was before half my family died, and I could not afford to become close to anyone again… separation is less painful if you remain detached.

  In my first period math class, I find thinking about anything other than Jasmine is impossible. It has been almost two years since I had seen or spoken to her. I knew when I saw her again that I would react in some way, but I didn’t expect this kind of reaction. This is an emotion that I am not going to start to analyze for fear of what I might find. Instead, I settle for replaying seeing her this morning in my mind.

  When I knew her, she was a tomboy. She hung out with Jace and all his – our – friends, doing guy things, but now she dresses in girl’s clothes instead of oversized boy’s clothes. Her hair is the same blonde with red highlights that I remember, but now it is long; cascading past her shoulder blades. All that bright golden hair surrounding her face makes her blue-green eyes more noticeable. If someone wasn’t careful, they could get lost in those eyes. Her soft, pink lips have filled out, making them plush. The further my eyes traveled down her body, I realized her lips were not the only things that had filled out… She has curves in all the right places. It was hard to keep my face straight and my jaw from dropping at the sight of her. Thank God I kept my cool.

  When that cabrón she was with told me to back off, I wanted nothing more than to slam my fist into his face, then I thought that it would upset Jasmine more. That was the last thing I wanted to do, especially after how distraught she looked. I took a deep breath and decided to walk away. That was a first for me in a long time.

  I heard Andrew warn her to stay away from me, which made me want to turn around and finish what he started, but I realized that she didn’t say a word… she didn’t say anything at all. I don’t know what I was expecting from her, so maybe no reaction is for the best. I am nothing like the person I used to be. Before the accident, I cared, but now I don’t, and it’s that simple. It is better if she stays away from me; best for the both of us.

  The day dragged on. It had been a long time since I actually made it through an entire day of school. As I said before, keeping my grades up would be easy, whether I attended class or not.

  By the time my last class rolled around, I couldn’t wait to get it over with and get the hell out of here.

  As I turn the corner to biology class, I almost run right into Andrew.

  From the expressions on the faces of him and his friends, who are there to back him up, quickly showed me that he was here waiting for me, and it was not a coincidence. I quickly size them up and figured I can probably take them all, or at least give them a good run for their money. Andrew just decides to stand there and stare at me, so I figure I should get this show on the road.

  “Can I help you with something, Andrew?” I ask in a calm, but bored tone.

  “Yeah, Navarro, you can stay away from Jasmine.”

  “What makes you think I want to be around Jasmine?” The question throws him off. He wasn’t expecting me to relent.

  “Good. Then you won’t have a problem doing it.”

  Now I want to mess with him.

  “Who said I didn’t want to be around her?” I step closer to him, our chests almost touching.

  “You don’t scare me, Alex. Jasmine wants nothing to do with you – she doesn’t even want to be around you.” He sounds so sure of himself.

  I stare him down.

  “And how do you know she doesn’t want to see me?”

  Half of me wants to know what he knows, and the other half of me wants to piss him off. The outcome I desire more proves difficult to decide.

  “She told me that if she saw you again, it would be too soon. She couldn’t be reminded of the person who took her brother from her, and that when she looked at you, she saw your father.”

  Andrew’s words rock me. Another piece of my heart chisels away and drops into the empty abyss that is eating me alive. I keep my face unbelievably calm for the storm that’s raging inside of me. The sight of Andrew makes me want to go wild and beat him and his friends faces in.

  Instead I say, “Well, tell her she has nothing to worry about, I want nothing to do with her, either.” My voice is surprisingly solid, despite the shaking rage he’s ignited inside of me.

  My mind betrays me, clueing me in on how much I actually wanted to talk to Jasmine. Not only before school started, but after seeing her again, her image is all I see. Nevertheless, if she wants nothing to do with me, it’ll be easier to keep my distance from her.

  The final bell rings, signaling we are now late to class. Without muttering another word, I push past Andrew and his friends. I go slowly, daring one of them to take a swing at me and give me a reason to defend myself, but they let me pass without interference.

  Luckily, class has not yet started. Kids are still talking to one another, waiting for the teacher to call them to order. When I glance over to see what has got the teachers attention, my breath catches in my throat.

  Long, golden hair shines back at me, stopping me dead in my tracks. Her back is turned to me, assisting her neglect in noticing I’ve entered the classroom. I’m enjoying her backside, admiring the shapes and curves I’ve overlooked before, but when she stiffens and turns to look at me, I know she can sense my heavy gaze roaming over her.

  Chapter Seven

  Jasmine

  This day has been so long. The excitement I had felt earlier about returning to school has long since vanished. It seems there are a lot of people that were excited for me to return, but those same people couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Sorry about your brother.” By the end of the day, they decided to just stop talking to me altogether.

  I wish I could say that I minded, but actually, it is a huge relief. Besides, I was never friends with many of the kids at school. This was my brother’s crowd, not mine. Without him around, I will probably be a loner here.

  I finally arrive at my last class of the day – Biology. Andrew is in two of my other classes, and he has made certain that we sit next to each other. In a way, it is nice to have his attention, but I’m staying guarded. He seems genuine, but that still doesn’t tempt me to break down my wall and be open with him, or anyone.

  I walk into class, just seconds before the tardy bell rings and hand my schedule to the teacher. Most of my teachers want to know where I left off in home school. It turns out that I’m ahead of the senior curriculum by half a year. Most of the teachers seem to agree that if I can finish the second half of the curriculum now, I could graduate four months early. That is the highlight of my day.

  The teacher is about three-quarters of the way through the same speech every other teacher has given me throughout the day when I feel a warm tingle shoot up my spine. My heart skips a beat and jumps hard in my chest. I can sense someone’s eyes caressing my body; it feels like fingers are dancing along my spine.

  I know who’s behind me without turning to face him. He is making my skin tingle and come alive. I fight my body’s urge to turn around and meet his eyes, but I fail miserably, so I turn around to face him.

  Instantly, his eyes lock on and capture mine. They begin to move away to trace my body, all the way down to my shoes. People have checked me out before, but none of them have ever been as obvious as Alex is being right now. As his eyes travel, he pauses on my b
reasts, then my hips, and make their way back up to pause on my lips for a second longer before meeting my eyes again.

  The teacher’s voice breaks through the fog lingering in my brain.

  “Have a seat at the desk in the back, Miss Heartly.” She smiles at me, noticing who my gaze is on, oblivious to the silent burst of energy radiating between us. “Mr. Navarro, please take a seat next to Miss Heartly at the desk in the back.”

  What?

  I make my way to the back of the room without tripping or falling on my face, and well aware of his body heat drawing closer to mine. With each step Alex takes, I grow warmer. This is not helping the oath I made to myself to stay away from him.

  We take our seats and both of us try not to make eye contact. He clears his throat, but otherwise, remains silent.

  I try hard to pay attention to what the teacher is talking about, but it’s useless… I’m lost. All I hear is “Wa, wa, wa, wa, wa”. It is just like the mom on Charlie Brown.

  The only person I’m aware of is Alex; every tiny movement he makes, I know it. I can even smell the soap on his skin. He has all of my senses heightened, just by being close. I don’t remember him smelling this way – like a damp forest after the rain.

  After what feels like eons later, the last bell rings, signaling our dismissal for the day. I snatch my bag up and head for the door as fast as I can, feeling like I am home free, only to have him call out to me once I make it to the hall.

  “Jasmine, wait up,” he says.

  Without wanting it to, my body reacts and stops for his voice.

  Traitor.

  I turn to meet his gaze, but words stick in my mouth like peanut butter, so I stand in the hall and stare at him like an idiot.

  His fingers comb through his magnificent hair, and then his hand squeezes the back of his neck.

  “Listen,” he begins. “I know we haven’t talked in a long time, but I don’t want it to be weird between us.” He flinches slightly, signaling that even he knows what he just said sounded lame. “What I mean is… we used to be friends.”

  His unsure, pleading voice is the furthest thing from a hard-core gang member. He just seems like my old friend, Alex.

  The next words tumble from my mouth without my permission, stunning not only myself, but him as well.

  “Well, that was before your dad killed my brother.” I suck in a breath after the words are out. My face is calm but my eyes are wild. I can’t believe I just said that. How could I say such a thing to him? He is just as much a victim of the accident as I am. He lost his father and sister in the wreck, too.

  The look in his eyes tell me that I have wounded him deeply.

  “If that’s how you feel about it…” He nods with understanding and turns to head in the other direction mumbling, “Esto es cómo es?” His sudden change to Spanish leaves me standing there clueless, and completely ashamed of myself.

  The further he moves away from me, the more I feel sick, but strangely, I also feel his retreat, like he’s taking something of me with him. I don’t say anything as he goes. I want to say something, but then I realize that it should be this way. Letting him into my world, as much as I fear I might want him around, would only end badly.

  Once I’m home, I replay those harsh words. The more I think about them and the expression on his face once I said them, makes me feel worse by the minute. By two in the morning, I’ve beaten myself up enough to convince myself that I need to apologize to him tomorrow. Just because I want to avoid him, doesn’t mean I need to crush him, or cause him anymore hurt.

  Seeing as how I made a complete bitch of myself today, I knew my night of sleeping was a wash. I’m glad that today was one of those days my mom drank herself into a stupor, not waking at all the entire night. I needed a night off.

  Chapter Eight

  Alex

  I cannot believe Jasmine. Even though I knew the mierda flying out of her mouth was a lie, her words still crushed me. As much as I try to convince myself that her words mean nothing – that I could care less what she thinks about me, or anyone else in my family, it isn’t working. She wounded me, and she saw it written plain as day on my face.

  To keep my mind occupied, I gather the gang and set out to look for trouble. I know I’m on my last chance, and I know what the punishment is if I find the trouble I am looking for, but right now, that means zilch. Jasmine’s words are eating me alive. Does she also blame me somehow for that night? Or does she not want to talk to me because of my father’s involvement? Her rejection bothers me more than I care to admit.

  We roll up to a club that’s a halfway point between my gang and our rival gang. We usually keep a truce at this place, but tonight, I’m not interested in keeping the peace – I’m looking for a fight, and by the looks on my gang’s faces, they are down for whatever I want to throw their way.

  I step off my bike, tilting it so it stands on its own. It’s an old bike, but I worked my ass off to make the money to buy it. The seven members of Infiernos Guerreros I brought with me tonight follow my lead, knowing I came here for nothing but trouble. They all stretch out their limbs, getting ready for the brawl we are no doubt about to engage in. I may not be able to figure out what or how I am feeling about Jasmine, but I can figure out how to slam my fist into someone’s face.

  I push through the front door of the club, scanning the room until I spot the poor sap that is going to get the brunt of my anger; he is second in command of our rival gang. I walk right up to him without saying a word and smash my fist into the side of his temple, causing him to tumble to the floor. Ten people around him jump up while he peels himself off the floor to face me.

  “What the fuck is your problem, Alex?” He spits out.

  “Your ugly mug is my problem, gilipollas.” My gang approves of the fight; they

  flank my back without saying a word.

  “You really want to do this, hombre?” He gives me a chance to back out, but he doesn’t know me – once I start something, I do not back down… I stand my ground.

  “You want to take it outside?” I give him the option of where they want to get their asses kicked. I’m being generous, if I do say so myself.

  “Fuera.” He says, and flicks his head toward the door.

  We meet outside and circle around each other, each person tense, waiting for someone to make the first move. I am no longer willing to wait, so I lunge for number two, punching him twice before he gets a couple of slugs in himself.

  We are going at it a couple of minutes before I start to notice my people gaining ground. Number two notices about the same time, so he ups the ante by pulling out a knife.

  I hardly register the gleaming weapon in his hand when I lunge for him again, punching him square in the face and breaking his nose, but not before he slices a deep gash down my right arm. I barely feel the fiery pain as I climb on top of him and continue to punch his face in.

  I lose track of everyone around me. The only thing I can feel is the pleasure of releasing my pain, the feeling of my knuckles cracking against bone, and the fire lancing up my arm from my knife wound.

  Hands start to pull on me, breaking me out of my trance. “Come on, Alejo. Cops!”

  The word cops slams me back to reality. Being busted again is not an option. It would mean jail time for sure.

  I drop number two’s shirt and get to our bikes, rocketing out of sight.

  Within seconds, we are safe. No one from the other gang would go public on us… they know better. I will expect retaliation, and be more than ready for it. The more I fight, the more I push my feelings for mi Hermana and mi padre far away from my heart. Even now, I’m lying to myself, denying that the person I want to keep my mind off of the most, is continuing to creep in, no matter how many people I go out and fight with. How can one day of seeing her cause me to feel… whatever the hell it is I’m feeling? I have every intention of pushing her out, but I have a feeling that she’s not going anywhere.

  Once we reach my house, everyon
e notices the slice on my arm.

  “Holy shit, Alex! You’re bleeding.” Carlos, my closest friend, says to me. “You want to go to the hospital?”

  I’m shaking my head before he can finish speaking. “Hospitals ask questions.” I pull off my shirt to get a better look at the damage.

  The cut starts at the top inner side of my bicep, traveling down to about an inch above my elbow. Lightly cut on the outer edges, while cut just deep enough in the middle to need sutures. Moving my arm causes blood to gush from the wound – I need to get this cleaned up and taken care of.

  I place my shirt against my arm to try to stunt the bleeding. “Get me some peroxide and the stapler.” I tell Carlos. He stares at me for a moment in shock, his eyes telling me he thinks I’m crazy.

  “Ahora!” I yell at him.

  He jumps and rushes from the room to collect the supplies, then returns a few minutes later with everything I asked him to gather.

  “You want me to help you?” He asks timidly.

  I look at him and only see worry in his eyes, so I decide not to be a dick. “Yeah, dump this shit on my arm.” I hand him back the peroxide.

  Again, he hesitates and looks at me for approval to continue.

  I nod and grit my teeth, knowing this is going to hurt like hell.

  Carlos dumps about half the bottle on my arm. It burns like acid, but I refuse to let a sound pass my lips. I have a tough as nails image to protect, I can’t be wining like a little girl over a small cut. Okay, the cuts not that small, it would be hospital worthy if I had not been trying to avoid the court system. All gunshot and knife wounds involve the local authorities eventually. That’s the last thing I need.

  “I brought this too, amigo.” He holds up a small tube of super glue.

  “Good.” I tell him. That will seal the wound before we staple it together.