Bait (18 page)

Diego let out a long, slow breath, recalling the image of the warm light. Vidas was right: Something had happened; a shift inside him.

“Are we done for today?” Diego asked. He wanted to get outside and move his body.

As usual, Vidas walked him down the hall and told him, “Ride safely.”

“I feel like I could fly,” Diego replied, and it almost felt like he did, biking along the seawall, leaving the afternoon behind.

L
ITTLE BY LITTLE
during the weeks that followed, Diego found himself thinking less and less about the past and more about his current life. Although he still wished the abuse had never happened, he made himself focus on the good things that had come as a result of Mac: moving to America; his brother, Eddie; making friends with Kenny; meeting Ariel…

His whole attitude toward life seemed to change in ways he’d never imagined. At school, Guerrero’s stupid comments seemed insignificant—definitely not enough to fight about. Even Fabio’s painted fingernails and eye makeup no longer bothered him.

Best of all, things with Ariel kept getting better and better. During lunchtime, she invited Diego and Kenny to sit with her and her friends. One of them, a girl named Monica, asked Kenny for his phone number.

“But what if she calls?” he asked Diego after giving it to her. He’d never had a girlfriend before. “What am I supposed to talk about?”

“Relax,” Diego said, like Vidas had once told him. “Girls usually do most of the talking. Just let her ask you questions. And keep breathing.”

Later that evening, Kenny phoned to tell him it had worked. “I did like you said and it went great, I think. I can’t believe it!”

“I knew you could do it,” Diego told him, feeling even more like Vidas.

As Diego continued to date Ariel, they grew closer and closer, each revealing to the other things they’d never told anybody. When they were alone, he felt more confident about kissing, until they were full-on making out. And over time, they gradually became more physical.

One afternoon when they were alone at her house, Ariel led him to her room. And when she removed his T-shirt, she saw for the first time the full extent of his fading cuts.

Embarrassed, he asked, “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Maybe a little.” She grinned, teasing. “Are you still cutting?”

“No,” he said honestly.

“Good,” she said, and moved aside the shark’s tooth hanging from his neck. Her lips pressed gently across his chest, kissing each wound. And despite his worries about the effects of Mac’s abuse, everything worked physically like it was supposed to. He held her in his arms just as in his dreams and tears trickled down his cheeks from happiness.

Afterward, they biked to the beach and lay down on the warm sand, holding hands side by side. He stared up at the blue sky and smelled the salt air, listening to the sounds of waves and seagulls, and thought how great it was to be alive.

When he turned to kiss her again, the shark’s tooth slid down his chest and an impulse came over him. He pulled the tooth out from beneath his shirt and turned it over in his fingers. While Ariel watched silently, he stood and took the cord from around his neck.

Running toward the surf’s edge, he raised the tooth in the air and pitched it as far as he could. The tooth arced high into the sky, spun over the water, and disappeared into a cresting wave.

It was a freeing feeling, like casting off a burden he’d carried for way too long. In celebration, he did a handstand. The grains of sand cushioned his palms and the soft breeze blew across his wet bare feet. It felt good to sense his strength and balance. He cartwheeled right side up again with a whoop. And after giving the sea one last long look, he returned to Ariel to kiss some more.

On Thursday afternoons, Diego continued to meet with Vidas. Their conversations began to focus mostly on the future: Ariel, college, and his dreams for his life.

One afternoon Vidas told him, “It’s time we discussed ending your probation. How would you feel about that?”

Diego turned silent, somewhat taken aback. He knew it had to happen sometime, but he looked forward to talking with Vidas each week. He didn’t want to lose that.

“One of life’s biggest lessons,” Vidas said, as if reading his mind, “is learning to let go of people. I’ve enjoyed working with you. But you can’t stay on probation forever.”

Diego dropped his gaze, a little hurt that Vidas thought of him as
work
. To him, Vidas had become more than a PO: a friend.
More
than a friend.

“It’s important,” Vidas continued, “that you show yourself you can stand on your own.”

Diego knew he was right, but couldn’t they still be friends?

“Let’s start by meeting every other week,” Vidas suggested, “and we’ll take it from there, okay?”

Diego nodded, consoled that he’d still see him every other week—at least for now.

On that first Thursday they weren’t to meet, Diego found himself brooding about it all during his classes and lunch. After school, he phoned Ariel and apologized for being so mopey. And with her help, he got through it.

“How’d it go?” Vidas asked the next time they met.

Diego glanced at the poster across the room. “You need a smiley for
it sucked
.”

Nevertheless, the following week, when they again didn’t meet, it was easier. And as weeks passed, he began to accept what Vidas had said: He could stand on his own. Even though he wished he could continue seeing Vidas, he started to look forward to no longer being on probation.

“So do I have to go back before the judge to get off probation?” he asked at their next appointment.

“No.” Vidas shook his head. “All he needs is my progress report and recommendation. You’ve done great. I think you’re ready. Do you?”

Diego nodded, although not totally certain. “Will there be like a graduation or anything?”

After all he’d been through with Vidas, it seemed like there should be some sort of recognition. A commencement. Some ceremony.

“Graduation?” Vidas gave a little laugh. “Nope. No graduation.”

“Well, can I at least still call you?” Diego asked. “Like, if I need to talk or want to ask your advice?”

“Absolutely!” Vidas exclaimed, sounding like he fully meant it. “Of course you can. You have my number.”

“All right.” Diego smiled, relieved. “So then…is this it?”

“Yep,” Vidas replied. “You’re a free man. All set?”

Diego took a last look around the office, wanting to remember every detail: the messy desk with the candy jar and photos, the coffee-stained carpet, the sunlight out the window glinting off the bay, and Vidas sitting in his swivel chair.

“All set.” Diego took a breath and stood, although he still didn’t feel completely set.

As they walked down the hall toward the elevator, a stocky man in a suit came from the opposite direction. At first Diego didn’t recognize him out of his robes. Then, as they neared, he saw it was Judge Ferrara.

“Wait here a moment,” Vidas whispered to Diego. “I’ve got an idea.”

He walked over to greet the judge, and as the two men spoke, Vidas gestured in Diego’s direction. Judge Ferrara peered across the hall, adjusting his owl-eye glasses, and Vidas waved Diego over.

A little nervous, Diego joined them.

“Mr. Vidas says you’ve done very well on probation,” the judge told Diego. “Is that so?”

Diego responded with a shrug, suddenly tongue-tied.

“Don’t just shrug!” Judge Ferrara admonished, commanding as ever. “If it’s true, you should feel proud. I want to know: Is it true?”

“Um, yes, sir, your honor.”

“So if I accept Mr. Vidas’s recommendation to let you off probation, are you going to stay out of trouble? Keep doing well in school?”

“Yes, sir.” Diego nodded.

“Good!” The judge extended his hand. “I don’t want to see you in court again, understand?”

“Absolutely, sir.” Diego had never expected to shake hands with a judge.

As Judge Ferrara said good-bye and stepped into the elevator, Vidas grinned at Diego. “Consider that your graduation. Now, you heard the boss man: ‘Stay out of trouble, keep doing well in school’—and give me a call if you need to talk about anything. I mean that, okay? Anything at all.”

“Okay,” Diego replied, but didn’t move, didn’t want to go. There was something more he needed to express to this man who hadn’t given up on him, who’d helped him believe in himself when he thought he never could. But how?

Then it came to him. Clearing his throat, he told Vidas, “You can pat my back if you want. I won’t mind. I’d kind of like it.”

Vidas peered into his eyes, and as he rested his hand on his shoulder, Diego embraced him.

“Thanks,” Diego whispered and pulled away awkwardly.

“You’re welcome,” Vidas told him.

On a night several months later, Diego dreamed again of floating in the open ocean. Once more the shark appeared, swimming slowly toward him. Its enormous body swayed, its powerful tail swung behind him. But Diego no longer felt afraid.

As the shark came alongside, Diego reached out and firmly grabbed its dorsal fin. And the shark pulled him gently through the warm ocean while Diego rode behind, the water yielding before him, streaming across his body. He’d never experienced such exhilaration before, like floating in air.

When at last he let go, the shark turned its massive head and gave him one last glance before swimming away, growing smaller in the blue depths until slowly disappearing.

That marked the last time the shark appeared in his dreams. But at times when Diego doubted himself, he’d look out of the corner of his eye. And he imagined the shark swimming next to him, giving him strength and courage.

With gratitude to my editor, David Gale; my agent, Miriam Altshuler; editorial assistant, Navah Wolfe; and all those who contributed to the creation of this book with their encouragement and feedback, including Bill Hitz, Erica Lazaro, Timothy Luscombe, John Porter, Dhamrongsak “Noom” Preechaboonyarit, John “J. Q.” Quiñones, Pattawish Thitithanapak, and my inspiring typist, Chanakan “Toast” Nuntchai. Thank you all.

A
LEX
S
ANCHEZ
received his master’s degree in guidance and counseling from Old Dominion University. For many years he worked as a youth counselor and probation officer. He is the author of the teen novels
The God Box, Getting It
, and the Rainbow Boys trilogy, as well as the Lambda Literary Award–winning middle-grade novel
So Hard to Say
. When not writing, Alex tours the country talking with teens, librarians, and educators about the importance of teaching tolerance and self-acceptance. Originally from Mexico, Alex now lives in Thailand and Hollywood, Florida. Visit Alex at
AlexSanchez.com
.