“I thought you wanted to go slow,” he says. His voice is husky, his eyes staring straight ahead, distracted, but trying to maintain focus and not wreck the car—and kill us.
I place my hand on the inside of his thigh, stroking. “We can still go slowly,” I say.
He swallows, loudly. “Where?” he asks, scanning.
“Park the car.”
He finds a deserted road and undoes his seatbelt. I follow and straddle his lap. We kiss, we fondle. A song is playing on the radio, I don’t know what. I move to unzip his jeans. He stops me.
“I don’t have a condom, Daria.”
I kiss him fiercely. I’m not giving up. “It’s okay,” I say. I whisper in his ear, of what we can do. I feel his heart racing against my chest.
“Daria,” he breathes into my ear, and then trails kisses down my neck.
I shift away and show him what I’m capable of, what Frankie always wanted, and what I always gave him, knowing I had him wrapped around my finger, and afterward, he’d do anything for me, even commit murder.
All I can hear is “Daria, Daria, Daria,” over the music on the radio. He hums and curses in pleasure. After, I take a swig of bottled water that’s lying on the floor. Alejandro, to my surprise, isn’t spent, and reciprocates, pleasuring me. I want to say his name, but I can’t quite speak. It’s a good thing too, for all I can think of is him.
I lie awake that night, recollecting the events of the day, replacing Alejandro with him. I fall asleep, drifting into madness, into my watery dreamscape, and awaken the next morning, breaking above the surface.
He was in my dream. “The answer is in the fountain,” he said, before letting me drown.
Was it a dream? I don’t even know anymore.
Kiss My Wounded Heart
Camilla screams at me, excited. “It’s senior year, chica!” she yells.
We’re standing outside Old Spanish Town High School. A painted angel with wings is welcoming me inside.
“Yay,” I say, not in the mood.
“What? What’s up? You and Alejandro on the outs?” she asks.
“What? What did you hear?”
I haven’t told her about…well, what happened in the car. I hope Alejandro didn’t tell Tony.
Camilla gives me a look. “I’ve heard nothing and it’s killing me!”
I shrug. “Well, nothing happened.”
“You are such a little liar. I hate you. When are you going to tell me?”
“We fooled around, no big deal,” I confess.
“Are you two…together?”
I shrug. “We haven’t discussed it. Although, I’m sure he wants to be a couple.”
“Well, what’s holding you back? You can fool around, but you can’t commit?”
“Exactly,” I say.
Camilla prays for me in Spanish and we enter the school, the angel looking at me in reproach.
A banner flaps above: WELCOME BACK, STUDENTS! GO ANGELS!
Go, indeed.
“There’s my baby,” says a familiar voice.
I turn to see Tony embracing Camilla. They kiss.
Tony turns to me. “Hey, Daria,” he says.
“Hey, Tony,” I greet back.
“Hey, Daria,” greets another familiar voice. Alejandro is standing behind me.
I turn around and give him a smile. I’m glad to see him, yet I want him to go away. I think I’ll always be conflicted until I die.
“Ready for senior year?” he asks, as we navigate our way through the crowd.
“Ready to graduate,” I say, and he nods in agreement.
“We have to apply to the same college,” says Camilla, overhearing. She and Tony are holding hands.
“Of course,” I say, smiling. “I can’t go to all those parties by myself.”
“I’ll be there,” says Alejandro, sounding left out.
“We should go on a double date,” Camilla suggests, nudging Tony.
“Yeah, cool,” he agrees, smiling.
“Yeah, cool,” I echo, but note that I sound ambivalent.
No one, especially Alejandro, seems to notice. He’s smiling warmly at me. He wraps his arm around my waist. I lean into him when I know I should push him away. How can I, after what we did? I should have restrained myself. I’ve learned nothing from my tumultuous time with Frankie. I scan the crowd. My ex is nowhere to be found. I relax and Alejandro brushes his lips across my cheek.
The four of us walk casually, taking our time, our senior status evident as we navigate the halls like honored guests. I feel relaxed, happy—until I spot Frankie, his arm around Vicki’s waist. Emily stands close, ready to be included in the conversation.
I walk by, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“Hey, you’re not going to say anything to me?!”
I briefly close my eyes and try to remain calm. I feel a tug on my arm and turn to see Frankie, trying to pull me away. Alejandro advances, in Frankie’s face.
“Back off,” he warns.
Tony advances too, with Camilla. They form a protective barrier between me and Frankie.
“What the hell is this?” says Frankie, hands spread in confusion. “I just wanted to talk to Daria.”
“You’ve got something to say?” asks Alejandro, fuming.
“Yeah, I’ve got something to say,” says Frankie, in his face. He’s about to speak (possibly curse) when he’s prevented by the arrival of Vicki, with Emily trailing.
“You’re supposed to be with me,” she reminds him.
Frankie turns and grabs Vicki’s arm. “I’ll talk to whoever I want to, when I want to. You got that, Vic?”
Vicki’s face is red. She says nothing, submissive to Frankie’s will. I remember that all too well. Frankie was enamored with me, and I with him. Frankie loved me. He had a weird way of showing it, though. The pain isn’t so fresh and the bruises have faded, but sometimes, I still feel the slap of his hand against my face, or his fingers, digging into my arm, or him tying me up and gagging me, while he punished me with pleasure between my legs. “You’ve been a bad girl,” he would say, pounding away, and I believed him.
He turns back to me and smiles. “I can’t even get a hug?”
Alejandro grabs Frankie by his shirt. “Back off,” he growls.
“What are you going to do about it, spic?”
Alejandro lets go of Frankie’s shirt.
“That’s what I—“
He’s prevented from speaking. Alejandro has his hand closed around Frankie’s neck. Frankie is struggling, trying to pull Alejandro’s iron grip away.
Tony intervenes and manages to separate the two, before the administration is called. He stands between them.
“Get out of my face,” Tony says to Frankie, who promptly does, cursing as he goes.
Vicki follows Frankie, who pushes her away when she inquires if he’s all right. Emily keeps her mouth closed. That’s probably best.
Alejandro makes a move to go after Frankie. Tony stops him.
“He’s not worth it, man,” says Tony.
Alejandro curses in Spanish—listing all the horrible injuries he’d like to inflict upon Frankie.
“Me too,” says Camilla.
“No one’s doing anything,” I say. “He’s my problem, not yours.”
Camilla faces me. “I’m your best friend. Your problems are my problems, chica. Got that?”
I smile. “Got it.”
Camilla and I kiss on the cheek, and then she departs, with Tony, on to class. They hold hands and kiss, along the way. I envy them.
I turn to Alejandro, who’s still fuming, staring after Frankie. “No,” I tell him. “No,” I repeat, firmer.
He’s still fuming. I kiss him, soft and sweet. “No,” I say again.
He’s distracted, staring into my eyes. Good.
He kisses me back. “I’m crazy about you, Daria. I love you.”
The bell rings. I’m saved. “C’mon,” I urge. “Let’s get to class.”
At Last, You’ve Come Along<
br />
“Why didn’t you say it back?” Camilla asks.
We’re sitting in Chemistry class.
I shrug. “I could’ve said it, but I wouldn’t have meant it. I think he’s great, but love?”
“So, you just said nothing?”
“I said ‘let’s get to class,’” I defend.
Camilla shakes her head. “I should knock some sense into you.”
“I want to, Camilla, I do. It’s just…”
“You’re not ready. Yeah, I’ve heard that broken record for months now.”
I remain silent. The teacher arrives and class starts. Vicki and Emily are huddled together, talking. The teacher reprimands them, and class continues. I’m following along—elements and all that—nose in my textbook, the pencil’s led swiping across the page in my notebook—when I feel it happening, again. I’m drowning. He’s here.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I turn and see Camilla, concerned. I’m afraid I’m going to faint and I don’t want to do that in front of Vicki. I’ll never hear the end of it.
“I think I need to go to the nurse,” I say.
Camilla informs the teacher, who allows me to leave. Camilla wants to accompany me, but I politely refuse, assuring her that it’s nothing major, I’m fine. She doesn’t believe me, but acquiesces, and resumes her seat.
I manage to stay erect, out of the classroom, and into the hallway. It’s deserted, thank goodness.
The pressure is overwhelming, enough to make me sink to my knees. I try to walk when I crash into someone. A hand touches me, skin to skin. Someone is pulling me out of the depths. The darkness is gone. I feel…alive.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, looking down.
I look up and see him.
His eyes are blue like the ocean he rescued me from.
“Are you all right?” he asks, in a foreign accent.
I’m speechless. He smells like sun-baked sand. I close my eyes and fall.
I feel arms around me, protective. I smell him. I open my eyes.
“What happened?” I ask.
“You fainted,” he says, still holding onto me.
“Oh,” I say, unable to say any more.
“It was only for a little while. Are you all right? Should I call for help?”
I shake my head. “No, no, I’m fine.”
He smiles and lets me go. I should have lied. We stand there, assessing each other. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m thinking I’ve been wrong this entire time. I thought he was the one drowning me. But he’s here and I’m…well, I’m better. I’m above water.
Who are you?
“I’m Gabriel,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“I’m Daria, nice to meet you,” I say.
“Well, if you’re well, then I need to find my class. I’m already late.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, disappointed to see him go.
“It was nice meeting you,” he says, in farewell.
“You too,” I say. Will I see you again?
We go our separate ways, until I stop, hearing him call my name.
“Yes?” I say, thrilled.
He hesitates, and then says, “What does ‘the answer is in the fountain’ mean?”
“Huh?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“You said it while unconscious.”
I shrug, feigning ignorance. He said that to me in a dream. I didn’t know what it meant then, and I don’t know now.
“Nonsense, I guess,” I say.
He seems unappeased, but smiles, nevertheless. “Oh, okay. Bye.”
“Bye,” I say, and watch him leave.
I go to the nurse anyway, feigning a headache. I need some time to think. She gives me two Tylenol and I sit, thinking. He has a name: Gabriel.
Who are you, Gabriel? And what are you doing in Old Spanish Town?
¡Dios mío!
I look at the clock. I’ve sat long enough. It’s time to go.
I reenter class. The teacher inquires about my health. I tell her I’m fine.
“Good, take your seat. You have a new partner.”
I turn towards my table that seats three. Camilla is at one end—and the other end—Gabriel, smiling at me. He gives me a wave. I wave back. The girls in the class are whispering, probably planning my early demise.
I take my seat. Camilla is uncharacteristically silent, for once.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” says Gabriel, leaning towards me.
I smile. It’s all I can do at this point. My heart is racing—then it skips a beat. I see Gabriel, staring at Camilla. I’m filled with hatred, rage, jealousy. But then I think, of course, he’d look at her. He’d choose her, not me. I’m such a fool.
When class ends, he turns to me and smiles. “I’m glad I was there to catch you.”
I’m about to smile when I see him glance at Camilla, interested.
My heart turns to stone. “Well, I’m sure someone else would’ve been there,” I say, rude.
He looks offended.
“So, maybe we’ll see each other again?” he proposes.
“Maybe,” I say, refusing to set a date. I throw my book in my backpack and storm off.
I hear Camilla behind me, in the hallway, telling me to stop. I want to tell her to go to hell, but I stop. She stands beside me.
“Hey, are you really okay?”
“What?” I say.
“Earlier—were you sick?” She’s concerned.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
We’re walking down the hall. Camilla is smiling. “So, how’d you like our new partner?”
“How’d you like our new partner?” I shoot back.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I shake my head.
“Oh, about Frankie, earlier, right?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Don’t worry about him, chica.”
I stop abruptly in the hallway, causing students to curse at me.
“Camilla,” I say, “that new guy? He’s him.”
“Him who?” she asks, confused.
“The one from the beach—mysterious stranger with aviators,” I say.
She curses in Spanish. “Oh, goodness—well, then he’s our age, not old like you thought. He said you fainted—and that he caught you.”
I nod. “Yeah, he, um, held me, until I…woke.”
“Wow, that’s just…wow. Hey, if things don’t work out with Alejandro, you can hook up with him.”
I shake my head. “Doubt it.”
We continue walking. “He’s doing his senior year here,” Camilla informs. “He’s from Spain.”
“Spain?” I say.
“Yeah, his full name is Gabriel Antonio del Castillo.”
The warning bell rings and we rush to class.
Gabriel Antonio del Castillo. Fancy.
Camilla and I reach our next class, History, with Tony and Alejandro to greet us. I’m disappointed to not see Gabriel, although, I wish I’d never see him again.
I wonder if I’ll drown again, today.
Tony greets Camilla with a modest kiss.
Alejandro does the same to me. I wonder what it would be like to kiss Gabriel. Soft and warm, I bet. Tender and experienced.
Alejandro is seated in front of me. He invites me to sit on his lap. I decline. I’m not ready—and besides, we’re not official.
He nods, although, disappointed. “I heard you had to go to the nurse this morning. Was it like last time, at the bowling alley?”
“Yeah,” I say. “But, I think I’m better now. I mean…I think it won’t happen again.”
“How do you know?”
I shrug. “I don’t, but…I feel different, I guess.”
Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?
Alejandro takes my hand and kisses it. “I hope it’s over…whatever you’re going through.”
“Me too,” I say, smiling.
I feel like embracing Alejandro, telling him “I love you” too, but then, h
e walks in.
Gabriel takes the empty desk behind me. Why couldn’t someone have already been sitting there? My fate is misery.
He still smells like sun-baked sand. Damn him to hell.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Alejandro glares behind me. I turn and smile at Gabriel, who’s smiling at me.
“Hello, again,” he greets.
“Hi,” I say, and then turn back around.
Alejandro takes my hand, again, and kisses it. “She’s my property,” he’s saying to Gabriel, in that gesture. I wonder if the Spaniard cares.
A poster on the wall catches my eye:
IF WE DON’T LEARN FROM HISTORY, WE’RE DOOMED TO REPEAT IT.
Have I learned? I wonder.
You’ve Got Me under Pressure
As Gabriel’s profound presence continues to exist behind me, I’m reminded that I’m not drowning. And he didn’t even touch me. I realize I want him to touch me. I want him to warm me like the sun. I clear my mind and focus on history.
It’s boring, as usual, but I try to maintain focus, for the sake of my sanity. Damn you, Gabriel Antonio del Castillo. Damn you.
The bell rings and I sneak a peek at Gabriel. He’s staring at Camilla. I grab Alejandro and kiss him madly. I hear a few whistles. I seek Gabriel. He’s already gone.
Alejandro cups my behind as we exit into the hallway. I need to be alone. We have English together, next, so I urge Camilla and Alejandro to go ahead, feigning a need to go to the bathroom.
Alejandro is hesitant to leave my side. I urge him to go, smiling, and he departs, with Camilla.
I don’t go to the bathroom, though. I head towards my locker. I pass by Gabriel, who smiles at me, but I frown, and act as if he’s a bother to my existence.
I reach my locker, fumbling with the combination. Gabriel is beside me, his scent giving off sun-baked sand—and mystery.
“Have I done something to offend you?”
I huff. “You, offend me? No, I’m fine.” The lock is against me, refusing to open.
“Well, you seem angry with me. I would like to know why? I’d like to fix whatever wrong I’ve committed against you.”
You stare at my friend when you should be staring at me!
“I’m not angry with you,” I lie, refusing to look at him.
Swept Away Page 3