Before You (20 page)

F
our weeks. Three almost-healed bones. Two hearts. One love.

Four seconds. Three breaths. Two joined hands. One Diego.

Four moments. Three kisses. Two joined mouths. One million fears.

Overcome.

Because of Diego. He destroyed all that I hated, all that held me down, every choreographed routine that sucked the life out of me like an engorged tick, taking all I have.

I refuse to be drained of what I love.

“Where to?” Diego asks.

He's driving my Jeep to make it as much like a real date as possible. With my crutches gone, I can finally move around better though the walking boot remains.

“Movies?” I suggest.

We have been going on a lot of dates recently. It feels good, like we're a real couple, doing real things, not hiding from the world.

“Sure,” he replies as we leave his apartment building.

Darkness plays with night, coloring it varying shades of gray and blue. Headlights illuminate the street like one giant glow stick. The windows are at half-mast, inviting a warm breeze.

Latinos with bandannas hang on the street corner. A regular fixture, like multicolored artwork in a museum: look, but don't touch. Diego glances at them. His eyes widen, shooting daggers and warnings.

He curses loudly. Jams the brake at a red light.

“What?” I ask.

“Get down,” he orders.

“Why?” I ask, avoiding his command, regretting it immediately.

His only answer is a hand pushing my body down so my head is near the center console. “Don't move,” he says through tight lips.

The seat belt buckle crams into my side. Spanish words are flung at our car, threats.

Diego guns it, a bronco in a rodeo. I wrap my arms around my waist as though I can stop my stomach from lurching into my throat. The Jeep shakes from cars whizzing past. Horns blare.

“What are you doing?” I yell, scared to open my eyes.

Diego ignores me, speeding farther away.

I don't know where we are. I don't know what's happening.

Diego drives another minute before letting out the biggest breath.

“You can sit up now.”

Diego slows the car. I sit up, dizzy, the world tilting at an unnatural angle.

“Did you run a red light?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies.

Diego glances repeatedly in the rearview mirror. His face is ashen, like he's seen a ghost.

“Why?” I question.

His lips press tightly together.

“Why?” I repeat.

“Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to,” he replies. Slowly. Like each word needs to pack its own punch.

“We could've been pulled over. What if we got a ticket? You're not on my insurance to drive this car, Diego. Why would you do something like that?” I ask.

“Trust me,
mi reyna
. A lot worse would've happened if I didn't run that light.”

Diego rubs the back of his neck. His tension is contagious. “Now, can we talk about something else?”

“No,” I answer. “You're hiding something from me. I trusted you. Why would you hide something from me?”

Silence.

“Please tell me you're not involved with that gang.”

More silence.

“Say something!”

We stop at another light.

“This is nothing you need to be concerned with,” he says roughly.

I have to work to keep my voice steady. “It involves you. And those guys didn't sound like friends.”

“That's 'cause they're not,” he replies.

I take his hand in mine. It is tense. It is hesitant. It is warm.

“Please tell me.”

The light turns green. Diego looks back at the road.

“They want to recruit me,” he says.

Please, please, please, no. Diego just got out of that back in Cuba. “You can't—”

He cuts me off. “I'm not. That's the problem. I said no. I fought them, Faith. That's why my face was busted at the beginning of school. They don't take rejection well.”

I run a finger down his profile. Bruises and stains and pain and blood and fear. Me and him and chances and possibilities and hope.

“I'm sorry,” I say.

“Don't be,” he says, confident, somehow knowing that it will be okay. Or maybe that it won't. But assured either way that it will be what it's meant to be. “Forget about them. This is our night.”

They're hard to forget, but I try for Diego's sake. I stare, stare, stare, at his face until I can see nothing but him on all sides. Consuming my thoughts in the best way. We pull up to the theater. Diego opens the door for me like a gentleman. We walk hand in hand to the ticket booth. Connected in a thousand ways. Touching in only one.

Some kids laugh off to the side. My ears are pierced by their mockery. My eyes are shot through with their stares.

They go to my school.

“Ignore them,
mami
,” Diego says.

I have not gone public. We've been on dates but I've told no one. I decided to deal with my healing injuries before I invited everyone's criticism. Once the word gets out, it'll spread like wildfire.

I've been lucky to not run into anyone I know.

Until now.

I'm not ready to tell everyone. But then again, I don't know that I'll ever be.

Diego rubs my tense shoulders. One, two, three, four, five fingers form a fist.

“It's okay,” he says into my ear.

I know his words to be truth. It'll be okay as long as I have Diego. He leans down to my lips, kisses me softly.

“Mmm,” he says with a grin.

I straighten my spine and square my shoulders and walk right past the gawking crowd. It seems as though the worst of my worries are over.

Then the person in front of me turns from the concession stand.

“Tracy,” I say. “Hi.”

I'm holding Diego's hand. I want to hold it tighter. I want to drop it. I want to run. I need to stay.

Tracy Ram looks from me to Diego, and back to me.

“Oh my God.” She laughs.

She's been heaving smiles at me lately. They're not genuine. They're condescending. She's taken my position as the dance captain. She's elated to see me fail. I wish the patronizing smiles would boomerang back and hit her between the eyes.

The moment is incredibly uncomfortable. I have nothing to say.

“Forget the popcorn,” Diego says and pulls me in the direction of the theater.

I don't look back at Tracy.

“What's her deal?” Diego asks.

“I don't know,” I reply. “She hates me, which makes no sense because she got what she wanted. She's the dance captain. Why waste energy on me?”

“Ah,” Diego says. “I get it. She's probably the type of girl I thought you were.”

“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?” I feign anger but my grin gives me away.

Diego smiles. “There are always people like that, ones who want what everybody else has. Nothing will ever be good enough. She'll always be jealous. You could give her the world and she would still hate you, still want more.”

I welcome Diego's arms as he winds them around me. “Is it always going to be like this for us?” I ask.

“What?” he asks. “You mean movie dates with no popcorn? 'Cause if it means that much to you, I'll go back and get some.”

I smile. “No. You know what I mean.”

He sighs. “Probably. People from your side of town will always look at you and wonder what a beautiful
chica
like you is doing with a Latino like me.”

“And people from your side of town will always look at you and wonder what a beautiful
Cubano
like you is doin' with a
gringa
like me,” I say.

Diego raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Touché.”

“Do you think things will change in the future?” I ask. The possibility is as dark as the theater we walk into.

“Hopefully. One day,” Diego says.

That's all we really have, isn't it?

Hope
.

Hope that this world will stop seeing people in terms of the color of their skin and the size of their paychecks, and start seeing them in the size of their hearts and the love they offer.

We slip into back row seats. I rest my head on Diego's shoulder. My bones ache with a yearning for something out of reach, something obscured by hate and ignorance. As the movie begins, I block out the rest of the world, people like Tracy Ram included, and concentrate on the here and now.

I don't see Tracy Ram again until the next day at school. She's leaning against Diego's locker, flirting with him. I am too far away to hear her actual words, but I recognize her actions from a mile away.

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Blood pounds, roars, in my ears. I'm holding my breath and my body is a pillar of ice.

Diego looks uninterested. Maybe a little angry. He cannot stand girls like her. Tracy runs a finger down Diego's arm. He pulls away quickly, as though she burned him. His friends are standing nearby. It looks like one of them would love to be in Diego's shoes. Ramon tries to talk to Tracy but she pays no attention. She is there for one reason. To anger me. She never cared about Diego before she saw us at the movies together.

Thief.

Backstabber.

Liar.

I've almost reached them, my walking boot slowing me down. The crowd parts quickly. I am Moses and they are the Red Sea and I will get to the other side and she will regret ever touching him.

Today is the day I decided to wear what I want to school. I promised Diego that I would eventually do this. Today seemed like as good a day as any. Especially since I knew everyone would have heard about my secret relationship from Tracy anyhow. Pull off the Band-Aid quickly. Get it over with all at once.

People stare. I am a picture of transformation. Before: conservative knee-length skirts and loose blouses. After: teal shorts and a white shirt with a pink tank underneath.

It's refreshing, like a tall glass of tea on the hottest day of my life.

I don't bother with everyone else. I don't even look at them as I pass. The whispers have no effect. I am deaf and blind to anything but Tracy and Diego. This is my life. My choice. And my boyfriend.

I step in front of Tracy, ignoring that she's saying something to Diego. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. Doesn't matter who's looking.

“
Hola, mami
,” Diego says.

I smile against his lips.

His friends hoot behind us, saying things in Spanish. One of them slaps him on the back. “Teacher's comin'. Heads-up,” he says.

The crowd disperses, Tracy included. Our school has a no-PDA rule. No touching. No kissing. No grasp on reality. Diego and I pull apart before they catch us.

“What's going on here?” a teacher asks. I recognize him. He teaches junior math. Nice guy. Rule stickler.

“
Nada
,” Diego says with a cocky grin. “What's goin' on with you?”

His buddies laugh. The crowd watches us like we're a scandal in motion.

The teacher looks at me. “Get to class,” he says.

Diego gives my hand a squeeze as we part ways. I smile to myself.

That felt good, like running a marathon and winning first place.

Here's to hope.

“T
hat was awesome!”

Mis amigos
keep doing that, telling me how cool it is to finally see one of our kind hooking up with one of Faith's kind. Though, to be real, I'm not just hooking up with her. They treat it like it's a huge infiltration. Which, I guess, it kind of is.

“Faith Watters! Unbelievable!” Ramon continues.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, brushing him off as I take a bite of my chicken.

There are a lot of eyes on me today. Watching, watching, always watching.

I expect Javier to be mad about our fight. He's not. My eyes tell him all he needs to know: I'm sorry.

“She looks good today,” Javier says, and points over my shoulder.

Faith and Melissa head our way. Faith is agility and beauty and love, love, love.

“Hey,” she says, stopping in front of me. My hands automatically go for her.

“Hey,” I reply. I look at Ramon, sitting next to me. He moves down a spot to make room for Faith. Luis tries to stand to make room for Melissa but she stops him.

“I'm good,” she says with a smile and takes an empty seat next to Javier instead. My cousin grins at her. Then realizes the rest of the table is staring. Blood stains the underside of his cheeks, turning them red.

“What's up, boys?” Melissa says, breaking the ice.

I introduce everyone.

“Mind if we join you?” Melissa asks. Faith and Melissa brought bag lunches.

“Of course not,” Javier says, a little too eagerly. Faith raises an eyebrow at me, catching on. Javier has never dared to date a Caucasian, knowing his mom doesn't approve. She doesn't see the beauty in diversity.

“You sure your people won't mind?” Luis asks. “ 'Cause it looks to me that some of them are
enojados.
”

Back at Faith's old table, Jason looks especially angry. His disgust is palpable.

“Who cares about them,” Melissa says, no question intended. “But it does look like we may not be welcome there anymore. You sure you don't mind being stuck with us from now on?”

“
Mujer,
I'd love to be stuck with you,” Ramon says, all sleazy.

I laugh. Javier punches him in the arm.

“¡
Ten algo de respeto!
” Javier warns.

Melissa smiles, though I'd guess that she doesn't understand a word he said. His actions are clear enough.

“So what are you guys up to tonight?” Melissa asks.

I have no plans. My friends mumble a chorus of “Nothing.”

“There's a
reggaeton
concert going on. Twenty bucks at the door, but my sister knows the guy running it, so I can probably get us in for free. You game?” Melissa asks.

“Definitely,” a few of us answer at the same time.

“You got a sister?” Ramon says. He looks excited. Hopeful.

Melissa grins. “I have three.”

“
Si ella se parece a tí—
”

With one look from Javier, Ramon shuts up midsentence.

“You like
reggaeton
?” Javier asks Melissa. She pops a carrot in her mouth, smiling still.

“Yeah, why? Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” he says. “I love
reggaeton
.”

“Well, so do I. As a matter of fact, I like a lot of things you don't know about,” she replies.

Faith laughs at her friend. I pull my girl close, ignoring the school's PDA policy. She gives me a quick kiss. It is a brush, a tease. I need more.

“You want to go with me tonight,
mami
?” I ask in her ear.

“Yeah. It'd be fun,” she replies.

She'll need to pick me up, since her father knows nothing about us yet. I can't make an appearance at her house—not that I have a car. Not that I care. I am caught in currents of gladness, gliding, floating. No more hiding. No more wishing. No more lying. No more restraint.

“Eight?” I ask.

“Sure. I'll meet you then.”

 

Eight o'clock is celebrated by a minidress that shows off Faith's long legs. I almost beg her to forget the concert.

“
Oye, muñeca.
You look
maravillosa
.”

We are standing by her Jeep outside my apartment.

“You, too,” Faith replies. She pulls my head down for a kiss.

“You sure you don't want to stay?” I offer.

She licks her lips.

“Maybe for a second,” she says.

I lean against the car and pull her to me. She parts my lips with her tongue and moves her hands to my back. My breathing is all wrong but I can't control it. Faith steals my air and gives it back in hot breaths. I am this close, this close, this close to walking back upstairs. Faith engulfs me in flames that I want to burn in until we are melting, dripping, molding into one.

“We need to go,” she says against my ear.

I don't want to go.

She pulls away. I reluctantly hop in the car and watch her while she drives. I love the way she sees me for who I am, and likes me all the same.

Outside the club,
mis amigos
and Melissa are waiting.

“
¿Que pasa?
” Javier asks.

“
Nada,
” I answer.

Luis brought a girl I recognize from school. Esteban, Juan, and Rodolfo are checking out a group of ladies as they pass.

A girl who looks a lot like Melissa approaches us.

“
Oye, mira eso. Esa chica es sexy
,” Ramon says.

She stops and smiles at Melissa and Faith. “Hey, girls,” she says.

“Monica, this is Faith's boyfriend, Diego, and some of his friends.” Melissa introduces everyone.

Her sister leads us to a side door and gets us in for free.
Gracias a Dios
, because I don't have extra money.

The inside of the club is packed shoulder to shoulder. Loud music blares through speakers while everyone waits for the headlining musicians to take the stage. Faith's body automatically moves to the music. Not dancing full-blown, but not standing still either. Like she has an involuntary switch that turns on whenever she hears good music.

While we wait for the concert to start, I pull Faith against me.

“
Baila
with me,” I say.

I don't have to ask her twice. She is eager to get on the floor, thirsty, drinking it in. Her moves are cautious, slowed by the boot on her foot, but she sways with my help, loving the music despite broken bones.

Melissa and Javier join us just as the music dies. The crowd yells. Lights dim. When they flare back to life, musicians have taken the stage and the club turns into a madhouse. Girls on the dance floor reach for the guys onstage, who cup their microphones. People shove to get closer.

Faith and I are pushed from all directions but I hold on to her, hoping no one steps on her injured foot. The clamor dies down after the first song as people get into the music. My body is a reckless thing. Pressing close to Faith. Her hips swing. My heart thuds. Our lips touch.

This is how it all started.

I remember our first night together in the club, the first time she kissed me.

We enjoy the music for a long time—both on the floor and off—until the concert ends. I round up all my
amigos
. Esteban, Juan, Rodolfo, and Ramon hop in a car together, while Luis and the girl he brought get into his car. Faith and I walk with Melissa and Javier to the parking lot.

It's raining outside, the drops cooling our skin. Faith is feeling playful; she lets me lift her into my arms, soaking wet. I hold her close, loving the way the rain drenches her completely. Beads drip from her hair and lashes. The moment is crazy sexy. Our lips crash together, hungry. She tastes like rain and peppermint.

I lose my edge, something I almost never do. I don't recognize the feeling inside, but it's like I have been submerged in darkness and someone has finally turned on a light. It flares dimly, almost nonexistent. It is nothing bright. It is almost not worth mentioning. It is everything to me.

What's the name for that?

I am too lost in Faith's embrace to see the danger.

The tone of Javier's voice as he calls my name stops me. I look toward him.

Figures huddle around Faith's Jeep, their backs to us. Melissa is parked in the next spot over.

I know before I see their faces. The air, the vibe, their stances tell me.

It's Wink.

And five of his
amigos.

My stiff posture alerts Faith. I place her on her feet just as they look up.

“Thought I recognized this car,” Wink says, taking a step toward me.

Javier is at my side.

“Go back to the club,” I say to Faith. “You and Melissa.”

I took out a few of them alone last time. This time I think they'll know to be more prepared. I need Javier's help. He's a good fighter. I would never want to involve him, but I don't see any other way. Especially since two of them have now pulled guns.

“Shit,” Melissa says, noticing the Glocks.

“Now,” I say, never taking my eyes off their guns.

“But I can't leave you,” Faith pleads.

“Now!” I say with such authority that this time she doesn't question me. Faith and Melissa take off, Melissa helping Faith, like they fear for their lives. As they should. I concentrate all my attention on the MS-13s.

“Nice
gringas
you got there,” Wink says menacingly. “Wouldn't want anything to happen to them. 'Specially now that we have her tag number and info.”

“If you touch her, I swear to God—”

“Well, that depends on whether you've reconsidered our offer. You know what we want,” he says.

I'm about to lose it, about to unleash every ounce of my fury, when his next words stop me dead in my tracks.

“Diego Alvarez.”

My name. He knows my real name.

“What? You thought we wouldn't find out?
No soy es-túpido,
” Wink says.

Javier doesn't leave my side. Without ever having to say a word, he has my back.

“We don't usually offer second chances, but your fighting would be an asset to us. You could become our
amigo
instead of our
enemigo. Únete a nosotros
.”

I'm at a disadvantage. I'm not close enough to strike him, but I am close enough for a bullet to strike me. I only need to stall him long enough for Faith to send reinforcements. I would even welcome
la policía
at this point.

“What makes you think I don't belong to someone else?” I say.

Wink's gaze travels to my hand, to the cartel tattoo. “If you join us, we can make that disappear,” he says.

I have a bad feeling, like maybe he does know whom I belong to. And although their gang is powerful, taking on MS-13s is like taking on kindergarteners compared to the cartel's wrath.

“Last chance,” Wink says.

I can't, won't join them.

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Wrong choice,” Wink replies as he raises the gun.

I run toward him. Faster than I've ever moved in my life.

Hopeful, hopeful, hopeful.

I need to make it in time. Every breath I draw, every beat of my heart, will be silenced if not.

I kick his arm as the gun goes off. Javier yells in pain. If I want to live, I can't look back. I must concentrate on the guys in front of me. But from the sound of it, Javier is hit.

One of the MS-13s runs toward Javier while I take on the majority of them. A scuffle breaks out to my right, which means Javier is okay enough to fight back. For now.

I knock the gun from Wink's hand. I have exactly one second to grab it. I'm hit hard over the head. My chance is gone, evaporated like residual rain puddles on a scorching day.

Now I'm wobbly, grasping for something in the blurry world around me. I blink back pain and try to stand. I land a few punches and kicks. Not on target, but effective nonetheless. Two guys go down, including the other one with the gun. His Glock slides across the pavement. I don't have time to reach it. Another MS-13 makes the mistake of running at me and I slam his head into Faith's metal bumper, knocking him out.

Wink pulls out a knife now that his gun is somewhere under one of the cars. That's when I hear sirens. Footsteps pound toward us like an oncoming freight train.

Wink charges me. I dodge him. Land a solid punch in his face. He comes at me again.

This time I feel the knife blade pierce my side, slicing into bloody velvet.

I hit pavement. I don't have to look down to know that the puncture is deep. Too deep.

I focus on Wink. I commit his mocking smile to memory. One day he will pay. For a moment I think he's going to stab me again, but before the cops can catch him, he runs off.

Leaving his knife buried in me.