The Right Side of Reckless Page 24

  “Rey. You’ve got a dad who loves you so much he wants you to have a stable career, and a boyfriend who loves you and just wants to show you in the next big way. I mean, it could be worse. Hell, you could be like me and have no dad around telling you what to do.”

  Malika lived with her mom and a string of her mother’s boyfriends. She always said I had it better than her, but I still didn’t think I lived the perfect life just because I had both of my parents together in a good marriage. We had our problems, just like anyone else, but I could see Malika’s point. Perhaps I was just overthinking.

  She soon plucked up a leather miniskirt, tilting her head to examine it.

  My mind drifted to the offending white top that had been no good for her taste.

  “Do you really think I’m boring and wholesome?” I asked, fiddling with the sweatshirt I’d picked out.

  She heaved a sigh and faced me. I didn’t miss the way her eyes briefly lingered on the shirt in my hands. “No, your style’s cute, Rey. You always look cute. If you ever wanna step out of your comfort zone, you know I’m here for you.” She reached out and swatted my hand. “And there’s nothing boring about you. Just because you’re not walking around with a boob out doesn’t mean you dress like somebody’s grandma.”

  I almost laughed, but still, I felt out of place with my fashion sense. I liked my sweatshirt along with the denim skirt I’d chosen to go with it, but this was a party.

  Girls like Malika and Jasmine, they weren’t afraid to dress flirty and sexy. They were comfortable in their skin, whereas I felt awkward and on display. A part of me wanted to dress up, too, but another feared Troy’s reaction. It was his night, but I wasn’t in the mood to fight him off and argue over going all the way.

  A knot formed in my stomach and I hugged myself.

  Malika chose her outfit and made her way to the register. After a two-minute debate, I paid for my clothing, too, hoping my choices would be enough.

  * * *

  “Touchdown!”

  It was the final game of the season and one of our players had scored a touchdown against our rival, Moorehead High. On the field, Tommy J jumped in the air and bumped his chest against his best friend Isaiah Rhodes’s chest. The boys were on fire, and we were up 49 to 37.

  “Go on, Zay!” Mrs. Jordan was on her feet and shouting after Isaiah’s impressive touchdown.

  “Yeah, he better hurry up and win this for us,” my mother was quick to agree. She was hugging herself as if she were freezing. It was a little chilly out. “I wanna get home before the storm begins.”

  Annnnnd it’s going to rain?

  I was more grateful than anything for my chosen outfit for the night. Despite the fact that I was wearing a skirt, my sweatshirt provided warmth against the breeze.

  Avery had been allowed to stay home due to his genuine disinterest in the game. Not that our father hadn’t fussed the entire ride about how disappointed he was. Still, he hadn’t made Avery come, and I envied that as I sat with my mother and Mrs. Jordan on my left and my father and Mr. Jordan on my right.

  We were seated in a reserved area near the field among other parents and family of the players. It made me feel like a VIP, although a reluctant one.

  “That boy can run,” my father mused, watching the action.

  “Can’t he?” Mr. Jordan agreed. “He might be faster than Tommy if Tommy keep playin’.”

  “Man, get outta here with that bullshit, ain’t nobody faster than the Jordans,” my father said.

  “Them boys keep a fierce regimen, I tell you that.” Mr. Jordan looked proudly down at the field.

  “Avery’s about to hit his growth spurt soon and he’s just going to waste it sittin’ on that damn couch all day watching cartoons and reading comic books,” my father complained with a shake of his head. “He oughta be training to try out.”

  “He better do it soon. Tommy and his boys gon’ own that team after Troy leave. Avery has a long way to come if he’s going to join.”

  “Avery’ll find his way, Dad, give him time to find what he likes and loves,” I spoke up.

  My father faced me with a proud look in his eye, reaching out and patting my knee. “I just want him to be passionate about something other than anime, like you and accounting.”

  Passion. Accounting. Right. I sank in my seat, counting down the minutes till the game was over.

  “How are things with you, Rey?” Mr. Jordan leaned over to get a good look at me.

  “Good,” I told him.

  A gleam shone in his eyes. “You doin’ all right in that accounting class? Yvonne was on the phone with Sherry the other day.”

  My current C on my interim report said I was doing just average in accounting, but by the way my father was watching me, I knew I couldn’t admit that. Our families were trying to join and build a legacy, whether I liked it or not.

  It shouldn’t have felt like a difficult task to speak up and say no once in a while, but it did. With everything. It was a shame I felt guilty wanting control of my own life. But I didn’t have the tongue to say all that.

  “It’s going great, sir.” I put on a big smile to sell the point.

  “Good. Someday you can be Troy’s accountant. I always tell that boy to keep his circle small and the people here now close with him at all times,” said Mr. Jordan.

  My father’s large hand fell heavy on my shoulder. “Rey’s gon’ see him through. They’re a perfect match.”

  “Regan!” Mrs. Jordan was shouting for me next. “You gotta come by for dinner. I’m planning a big meal next weekend for Sweetest Day, and I want you and Jasmine to come.”

  It wasn’t like I could say no with all eyes on me. And at least I could look forward to Mrs. Jordan’s famous peach cobbler. I pushed out all discomfort as I faced Troy’s mother with that same phony smile. “Yes, ma’am, I’d love to.”

  Guillermo

  Despite it all, Friday evening before the football game, I found myself standing outside the gym watching the volleyball team, trying to get a look at Sofia Rios.

  She moved with grace in her purple-and-light-green uniform, whether serving the ball or sending it back over the net.

  An ache singed in the back of my mind the more I took in the beautiful senior. Tall, athletic frame with a touch of softness, olive skin, dark brown hair, and a face that could send any guy to his knees.

  As soon as the team took a break, I entered the gym and approached her, catching her friends’ attention instantly. They looked at me and smiled, one blonde taking the liberty of nudging Sofia as I stood behind her.

  From the moment she opened her mouth and I took in her personality, I knew exactly what Jenaya meant when she said Sofia was preppy.

  “Omg, hi!” she exclaimed. Her face brightened with excitement. “Guillermo, right?”

  So Troy had talked to her as well?

  I ignored the setup. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Troy told me about you,” Sofia had said. “And I agree, you’re cute.”

  I blinked. “Troy thinks I’m cute?”

  She laughed, swatting at me playfully. “No, silly. He said you’re the new guy every girl’s buzzing about.”

  I bet he did.

  Their break was only so long, so I kept it short, asking her if she was interested in going to the after-party the football team was having. Thankfully, and with no pressure, she agreed to meet me there so we could feel each other out and have some fun.

  As I got dressed later that night, a gnawing in my gut told me to text her and back down. But then, maybe a night out with a nice girl would be fun. When I allowed myself to check out After Hours with Jenaya, it had been a blast. The music was dope, the atmosphere was safe and chill, and it was no issue hanging out and talking with girls. Perhaps this party would have the same feeling.

  Jenaya insisted she was catching
a ride with someone else since it was located on the west side where her mother lived. Since she was checking on her sisters and brother, she’d already be in the vicinity. A quick text from Raviv found that he wasn’t even going.

  Nah. Cami and I got into a fight. Waiting for her to cool down

  Trouble in paradise.

  One glimpse in my mirror, and I found myself at a crossroads about the whole thing. Nervously, I pulled my hair back into a bun. I removed it, then retied it once more. Anxiety was creeping up on me.

  “Going somewhere?” My father hung in the doorway, studying me as I battled with my appearance.

  “There’s this football after-party for Arlington’s final game,” I told him. “I’m supposed to meet a girl there.”

  His brows lifted. “What girl?”

  I shrugged in an attempt to be casual. “Just some girl from school.”

  He made a face as he came into my room, looking around. “It wouldn’t be the girl from across the street, would it?”

  Regan.

  The last thing I needed was her on my mind. “What makes you think that?”

  His expression went flat. “You got her a dog.”

  “Because hers ran off.”

  “So?”

  “Dad.”

  “I’m only saying this because I’ve seen that novio of hers. We’re not here to repeat the past, Memo.” He said this with a gentleness that let me know he was only looking out for me. “She’s probably a nice girl, unlike that other one, but still, take it easy here.”

  He was right to warn me.

  What do they say about the more you can’t have something...?

  “Nah,” I spoke up. “It’s some other girl, I swear.”

  “You being careful?”

  “Yes, I’m taking extra precaution here.” Maybe it was best to put that wall back up with Regan. I could tell she’d been hurt when I was distant during our study session in the conference room. But it was for the best. I was trying here, I really was.

  My father folded his arms across his chest. “You know, we never had the condom talk before.”

  Oh God no.

  “Ay no!” I groaned as I covered my ears.

  He held back a laugh. “I don’t want any nietos anytime soon runnin’ around here.”

  “Trust me, I’m condom savvy.” I was a firm believer of no glove, no love.

  “So long as we have an understanding,” my father said. “I’d rather you be embarrassed now by this conversation than come to me later with some news I’m not ready for.”

  “Yes,” I quickly agreed.

  At least we were on good terms.

  My father let me go, and I decided to wear my hair down. Maybe I was overthinking things.

  Outside I caught a glimpse of Raviv leaning against his house, smoking. From his sagging posture, something told me the fight with Camila had been epic.

  The sky above me was a dark gray, signaling an impending storm. Perhaps it would serve as an excuse to leave the party early should the night turn into a dub.

  “Want to talk about it?” I offered as I walked toward him.

  He shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette. “She’ll get over it. I’ve got Kayde coming to cheer me up. This ain’t cutting it.” He lifted his cigarette.

  Something about Kayde turned me off, but I didn’t bring it up. “These things happen. Give it a day, you two will be stuck like glue again in no time.”

  He smiled bitterly. “I hope so, man.”

  “Maybe you should come out to take your mind off it,” I suggested.

  He declined. “Nah, it wouldn’t be right to go out when we’re fighting and she’s probably at home sulking.”

  I could only respect that. “Well, all right. Text me if you need me.”

  Raviv nodded, and I got in my car and took off, aiming to have a normal night.

  * * *

  The party was in full swing by the time I got there. Apparently, our team had lost due to a last-second field goal, but the score had been so close that people still wanted to celebrate. A lot of drunkenness soaked the air as I stepped into the two-story house. Red Solo cups could be seen all around as inebriated smiles and laughter set the tone.

  I had come quite the distance from Briar Pointe to get to the west side, and I was already feeling claustrophobic and out of place, not seeing anyone I knew.

  Scratch that—as I entered the entertainment area, I spotted Camila talking to some guy, a Solo cup in her hand. It didn’t seem like a casual conversation, their smiles read more flirty than friendly.

  I thought of texting Rav, but part of me didn’t want to stir up any drama.

  Would you want to know? I asked myself.

  Knowing that I would, I pulled out my cell phone.

  “Mo!” Malika came out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around my middle. One thing I liked about her was how bubbly she always was.

  Regan was behind her, and I fought a smile to no avail. Where Malika showed out with her tube top and skinny jeans, Regan kept it simple in a sweatshirt and denim skirt, lookin’ warm and cozy.

  “You go to the game?” Malika asked.

  I made a face. “You know I didn’t. I’m just here to feel the place out. You seen Jenaya?”

  Malika shrugged and looked to Regan. “You?”

  Regan shook her head.

  With my phone still in hand, I typed a quick text to my missing friend. “This place is pretty packed. You’d think we won or something.”

  “Tell me about it. Moorehead’s our rival and they usually win, but this time we came pretty close,” Regan explained.

  My cell vibrated with Jenaya’s response.

  Got stuck babysitting Story of my life, right? Have fun w/ Sofia tho

  I snorted and went back to the girls. “We always lose?”

  “Mostly, although since Troy’s been at Arlington, we won his sophomore year, not to mention he’s got two city titles under his belt, and with this being his last game for our school...” Malika sorta shrugged. She craned her neck, peering past me. “Ooh, there go Jasmine, let me say hi.”

  She ran off, leaving me with Regan.

  We stared at each other, and I didn’t know what to say. Regan seemed to be keeping her distance from me, which was almost amusing. We both should walk away, but that didn’t feel like any fun.

  “You look cute,” I told her.

  Regan studied her outfit down to her white sneakers. “You think so?”

  “I don’t say things I don’t feel.”

  I had a dangerous feeling a guy could never get tired of seeing Regan blush. I liked how she was dressed. It might look conservative to some, but it seemed fashionable to me. I loved the way her hair was styled, the way her legs looked in her skirt, the way the color of the sweatshirt complemented her skin tone. Old me and new me just wanted to reach out and hug her. Even with my attempt to break the ice, she was distant.

  “Oh, we actin’ iffy now?” I teased, folding my arms.

  She loosened up, chuckling, and shook her head. “No, it’s just—”

  “Hey!” Sofia materialized beside me, chipper as ever. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Regan gave a tight-lipped smile and issued a quiet little “hey” before stepping away from us. It was the right thing to do. But internally, all of me was more interested in following her like some lost puppy than staying and getting more acquainted with Sofia.

  “Did you just get here?” Sofia was smiling from ear to ear. From her perfect white teeth and button nose to her glossed lips, she was incredibly pretty.

  I made sure to greet her properly with a hug, since we’d come for each other.

  “Yeah, seems like the whole city showed up.” It was loud with chatter, but the music was louder. A Migos song had a few people bob
bing their heads while a few girls danced into their boyfriends.

  “Of course, we lost but Troy always plays an impressive game.” Sofia spoke like everyone else did when it came to Troy, highly and loyal. “His fan base has been growing since middle school. You a fan of football?”

  “Nah, I’m not a sports guy,” I confessed.

  She stood back and examined me, clearly liking what she saw. “Doesn’t look that way.”

  Old Guillermo would’ve made a muscle and flirted. New Guillermo felt rusty. “I’ve played with family, but organized sports aren’t my style. You ever want to box, I’m your guy.”

  “Boxing, huh? That’s kinda different. Where are you from again?” She eyed me over the rim of her cup as she took a sip.

  “North side, Rowling Heights—more so the neighborhood than the suburb.” Rowling Heights was known for its upscale suburbs, where most of my former schoolmates had lived. At one time, my parents had been workin’ on getting a place among them, but I probably would’ve hated them. The neighborhood held more personality, more culture—and trouble.

  Sofia wrinkled her nose. “I hear things aren’t so nice outside of the suburbs, like they don’t even have a Starbucks.”

  How tragic. “You must be a big fan.”

  “Are you kidding? I live on Starbucks, it’s the only way I made it to senior year.”

  I didn’t even like coffee.

  “Hey, maybe we could get into the ring sometime! I’m super strong from volleyball.” Sofia raised her hand and attempted to make a fist. It was all wrong.

  I chuckled as I circled behind her. Leaning close, I said, “You punch someone with that, and you’re going to hurt yourself more than them.” I took her hand in mine, freeing her tucked thumb. “You’ll break your thumb that way.”

  Sofia shivered in my arms and leaned closer. “Show me how to do it.”

  I enclosed my hand over hers and molded it into a proper fist. “When you throw it, make sure you put just enough force into it, not so much that you’ll go flying if they dodge it.”

  Sofia turned back around. “Thanks.” Her gaze lowered to my lips.