Melted & Shattered (18 page)

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Authors: Emily Eck

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BOOK: Melted & Shattered
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Chris was sitting in her truck, a
dark grey Chevy Silverado. It was an older model but it had leather seats and an extended cab. It was dope. In good Chris form, the bass was bumping Weezy loud enough that I’m sure my neighbors could hear. I got into the car and Chris had a blunt all ready lit for us.

“Right
on. Man, I need this. Here’s the address.” I showed her my phone, and took the blunt. I hadn’t been high much that week. I’d spent all my evenings in the fetal position on my bed or at the Center—basically avoiding anyone who wasn’t between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. I expected to work until at least eleven o’clock in the kitchen that evening, leaving no chance of going out. Yet, here I was, back at it.

“I know where that is,” Chris said, pulling away from the curb. “You said these are guys from the kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I going to be tortured with Metallica and Alice in Chains all night?”

I chuckled at her Larry reference. “Here take this.” Passing off the blunt, I reminded her, “We’re going to brown town, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Chris choked out, holding the smoke in while speaking. “Where is there to go in brown town?”

“We’re about to find out, I guess. You ready to meet José?”

Chris turned toward me, her eyes wide
and dilated. “Sex on legs José?”

“The one and only”

“Niiiiice.”

“He’s bringing
Chuy, this other cook. He’s cool, though not sex on legs. He ain’t bad lookin’, but he’s short.”

“Well, that’s a bummer.”

"Eh," I told her. "They can't all be giants." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt my stomach drop, and my chest seize. Shit.

"Chill. I got you," Chris said, passing me the blunt. It seemed everyone
had me
, everyone except the missing giant. I puffed the blunt and tried to put all thoughts of giants out of my head.

We arrived at the address José had
given us. It was a small house, but I think he told me there was a roommate. Chris parked the truck behind José’s Yukon. “You mind if I take this in?” I asked Chris, holding up the blunt she passed me.

“Go for it, man.”

I knocked on the door, and José threw it open as soon as I lifted my knuckles off. “
Cielito
! Come on in.”

“Sup, José. This
is my girl, Chis.” Sup’s and head nods were exchanged.

“Well, come on in. We were just about to do some shots before we roll out.
You ladies interested?”


Fo sho!” Chris said, putting her fist out for me to bump.

José laughed at Chris’ enthusiasm. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” He held the door open,
his smile wide and his eyes lit with excitement. I looked over at Chris and, there was sex in
her
eyes. Hmmmm. Was it a good idea for her to fuck José? Yeah, no. I could see a few different ways it might end poorly, and if tonight went well, I might have a new place to party. I needed to make sure things didn’t get weird with José. I wanted to keep him around.

We wa
lked through a living room with a mounted flat screen, and two sofas on each side. Heading into the kitchen, I saw Chuy and another guy leaning against the counter, shot glasses and Hennessey next to them. Aw man, brown liquor.

José made introductions. “Chuy, this is Elle’s friend Chris.” Chuy shook her hand, the
I’ll fuck you if you let me
look in his eyes. I smacked him on the shoulder, and gave him the s
top eye fucking my friend
look. He put his hands up, as if to surrender. “Ladies, this is my roommate, Rigo," José said, finishing up the introductions.

“Sup.” I nodded to Rigo.

I leaned against the counter next to Chuy, while Rigo and Chris exchanged handshakes. God damnit. He was eye fucking Chris as well, and he wasn’t bad looking. He was taller than me in my tennis shoes, maybe just shy of six feet, not too short to be totally ignored. I guess we'd see what happened between him and Chris by the end of the night, my hope being nothing, though not counting on it as the stars hadn't exactly been on my side lately.

Chuy and José, those two were definitely off limits
. Never fuck the kitchen guys. I learned the hard way that hooking up with other cooks always ended tragically, and that became a rule after my first year working in the kitchen. Once I fucked a cook, everything changed. They’d acted weird at work, like a jerk. I think it had something to do with seeing me naked. I wasn’t sure, but that rule had been in place for half a decade now. It was tried and tested.

“So, shots ladies?” Rigo asked, clapping his hands together and getting two more shot glasses from the cabinet.

“Got anything clear?” I asked, and Rigo gave me a perplexed look.

“Elle’s not down with the brown liquor,” José filled in for me.

“You down with the brown
vatos
though, right, Elle?” Chuy asked.

Oh dear, it was time to regulate. I looked at José. “I’m ‘bout to lay it out.”

“By all means, lay it out, girl,” he replied with a smile, and a hand sweep across the room, giving me the floor to speak.

I turned to Chuy, who was standing by his friend. Good. They both could hear what I had to say. “Chuy, same rules apply as in the kitchen.
You got those, right?” He nodded. I was pretty sure Larry filled him in, and if not, José probably had, but either way, a refresher wouldn't hurt. “We’re down, so long as you keep your shit in check. And Rigo, it’s very nice to meet you, but I won't be fuckin' anyone in this room. Not cuz you’re brown. I’m an equal opportunity dater.”

“No you’re not. You’re a heightist,” Chris decided to chime in.

“Chris.” I gave her dagger eyes, but her grin didn’t falter. I knew she was just messing around, so I resumed my speech. “Like I was saying. I’m down with the brown, in fact, I like ‘em a little on the dark skinned side, but José and Chuy know the score, so I’m just catchin’ you up to speed, Rigo. Now, not to sound racist, but do ya’ll got any tequila up in here?”

Chuy, Rigo, and José broke out into a group laugh. “She’s funny, homes,” Rigo told José.

“She is indeed. Hands off,” he told Rigo, and bent down to open another cupboard. “Elle, yes, it is racist to think that just because we’re Mexican we have a stash of tequila.” Fuck. I felt like a bitch, a racist bitch. “Cien Años, Cuervo, or Patrón?” José held the bottles out to me, wearing his brilliant smile.

“Fucker.” I
knocked my knee against his shoulder. “Patrón. Oh, and I got this," I said, pulling out the blunt Chris and I were smoking in the car.


Chingow, pendejo!
How you gonna bring two cool ass, but off limit, bitches up in this place?” Rigo asked José.

“Hey, you call ‘em bitches again and we’ll have words. And I brought Elle cuz I know she’s cool. Her friend was just icing on the cake, homes. Just like the titty bar. You can look,” José said with a twinkle in his eye, “but you can’t touch.”

“Thanks, José. I think.” I lit the blunt, and we all did shots, some brown and some clear. I was smiling. Fuck, it felt like I hadn’t smiled in a decade. “Where we goin’? Ya’ll claim you’re gonna show us the brown side of town, eh?”

“Simon.”
He said this, drawing out the vowel so it sounded like
see-moan
.

“José, before we go any farther, can you hook me up with another impromptu Spanish lesson?” He laughed, but nodded his head up and down. “Ok, so far I’ve heard
chingow
,
pendejo, vato
, and
cielito
, which you’ve been promising to explain for a while now.”

All the guys laughed at my question. Whatever. If I was going to be kickin’ it with these
dudes all night, I wanted to be in on the slang.


Vato
is like a homie. Or how you white people call a guy
dude
,” José explained.

“Duuuuuuuuude!”
Chris yelled. We all laughed, as we were all well on our way to fucked up.

“Yeah, and
chingow
and
pendejo
are bad words.
Chingow
is like fuck, like
what the fuck
. Or I slammed my finger in the car door and yell
CHINGOW
!” Rigo taught us, yelling the last part. “
Pendejo
is a dumbass. Like José”

“Fuck you, Rigo. You understood that, right?” José looked at me and laughed. “Come on, let’s get outta here. You ladies wanna ride with us?”

Chris and I simultaneously broke out into laughter. His comment was so funny I forgot to ask what
cielito
meant. Maybe that was his plan all along.

“Nah man, we’re good. We’ll follow you in my truck,” Chris said when she calmed down.

“It’s all good. You can ride with us. We don’t bite,” Rigo said. Again Chris and I broke into fits of laughter. “Ladies, what the fuck is so funny?” Uh-oh, he was pissed off now.

Chris patted Rigo on the shoulder. “It’s nothing against ya’ll. We just always ride together, me and Elle, and we always drive ourselves. That’s the type of gals we are. No offense, man. Guys always want to get us in their car. Not that I think you’re gonna bite.” Chris shot me a look. Fuck, it was the
I might let him bite me
look. Man, I would have words with her in the car. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her fucking Rigo now. It was too close to shitting where I ate. Chris looked back at Rigo and continued. “But like you said, we’re some cool ass chicks, and we roll solo. That’s part of why we’re cool.”

Rigo took it well. Thank
God. “Alright, alright, ladies. Well, you wanna follow us? We’ll take José’s Yukon?” Rigo looked at José for confirmation.


Simon
, let’s do it.” José clapped his hands and pushed off the counter. He turned to me before exiting the kitchen. “Oh,
simon
means yes, or yeah. Like, right on. I think you need to start paying me for these Spanish lessons. I’ll take payment in the form of shots later tonight.”

I shoved José out of the kitchen towards the door. “I got your shots,
pendejo
.” Everyone laughed as we made our way outside.

Well, I wasn’t in the fetal position on my b
ed. I was out of the house. I’d smiled and laughed. Maybe this would be just what I needed. I sure as hell couldn’t handle another night like Tiny’s. Another round of that, and I’d dig a fucking hole to climb in and never come out.

******

Chris followed José to a place called Aquario. From the outside, it looked like an average bar. There were tables set up outside with a little fence around them where people could smoke cigarettes and drink. We had to walk through the patio to get to the doorman and show our IDs.

Chris and I showed our ID
s to the bouncer, who looked at us like we were two crazy white girls.


They're with us,” José said from in front of me. The bouncer gave us back our IDs and nodded into the bar, giving us his approval I suppose. We followed the guys into the club. It smelled of sweat and bodies. Grinding bodies. Maybe I could be down with this.

“Well, this is different.” Chris paused scanning the crowd. She held her hand in the air and snapped twice. With an affectionate grin, she turned to me and winked. “And
it’s cool. Drinks, my love. We're on tonight. These boys don’t know what’s about to hit ‘em. Let’s show ‘em how it’s done.” She put her hand out to me, and I reached out to grab it. Taking hold of it, she pulled my arm under hers. “And you look great tonight, girl.” My rock. I complimented her back, commenting on her skinny jeans and killer motorcycle boots. I swear she could rock just about anything and make it look good.

We marched together to the bar, arm in arm.

I yelled over the din, “See if they got any imports.”

Chris nodded to my beer request, and threw in, “Shots?”

I shrugged my shoulders, but slipped a sly grin. When in Rome, right? “See if they got some Patón.
Ándale
, chica!” I shoved Chris in the shoulder.

I dug in my purse for the American Express. Fuck it. I wasn’t driving
, and was already half swerved, might as well enjoy myself.

“We buyin’ for your boys?” Chris asked.

“Nah, just you and me girl. It’s just you and me.” I passed her the plastic card, and she shot me a wide grin, handling the liquor transaction, while I leaned up against the edge of the bar. I scoped out the scene in front of me, and quite a scene it was, different music from Eight Oh Eight, but everyone was just trying to get fucked up and have a good time. I guess we were all united through that desire. The bar was situated by the door, with a three tier dance floor in the corner directly across from us. Reggaeton bumped the floorboards under my feet.

Chris grabbed my arm, turning me towards her. I took my can of Modelo Especial, already cracked open with a lime on top. Perfect. “Thanks girl. You know just how I like it.” 

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