Rules Of Attraction (15 page)

“Where are you goin’?” Carlos asks, stepping in front of my car. I

beep.

“I’m not movin’,” he says.

My response is another beep. It’s not an intimidating, deep beep

like most cars, but it’s the best my car can give.

He places both hands on the hood.

“Move,” I say.

He moves all right. With pantherlike quickness, Carlos jumps

through the open passenger window, feet first. “You should get the

door fixed,” he says.

Guess he’s coming along for the ride. I pull out of the driveway and

head into Boulder Canyon. The wind is blowing through the open

windows, the fresh air hitting me in the face and whipping my ponytail

against the back of my neck.

“I could fix the door,” Carlos tells me. He puts his hand out the

window, letting the wind rush through his fingers.

I drive up Boulder Canyon Road in silence, taking in the scenery.

You’d think I’d be immune to the beauty of it after living here so long,

but I’m not. I’ve always felt a strange fascination and peace with the

mountains.

I park by The Dome; I occasionally mountain climb with Tuck here.

I reach in the backseat to get my backpack and step out of the car.

Carlos sticks his head out the window. “I’m assumin’ this isn’t your

destination.”

I admit I get a little satisfaction when I say, “Guess again.”

Slinging on my backpack, I start walking toward the bridge suspended

over Boulder Creek.

“Yo, chica,” he calls after me.

I keep walking, heading for my sanctuary in the mountains.

“¡Carajo!” I don’t turn around, but by the sounds he’s making and

the Spanish swear words flying out of his mouth I can tell he’s trying

to open the passenger door to get out. He’s hopelessly unsuccessful.

When he climbs out the window and falls on the makeshift gravel

parking lot, I hear him curse again.

“Kiara, dammit, wait up!”

I’m at the base of the mountain now, at the beginning of my usual

route.

“Where the hell are we?” he asks.

I point to the sign, then start toward the big boulders.

I can hear him slipping on pebbles as he tries to keep up. We’re on

the trail now, but soon I’m going to veer off and follow my private path.

He’s definitely not wearing appropriate hiking shoes. “You’ve got some

serious problems, chica,” he growls.

I keep walking. When I’m halfway to my destination, I stop and pull

out a water bottle from my backpack. It’s not too hot, and I’m used to

the altitude, but I’ve seen people get dehydrated here and it’s not

pretty.

“Here,” I say, holding the bottle out to him.

“Are you kiddin’ me? You probably poisoned it.”

I take a long gulp, then offer it to him again. He makes a big deal of

wiping the mouth of the bottle with the bottom of his T-shirt, as if I

have cooties; then he takes a long drink. When he hands it back, I make

a bigger deal of wiping off his germs with the bottom of my own T-

shirt. I think I hear him chuckle. Either that or he’s covering up his

heavy breathing from the climb.

When I start walking again, Carlos is huffing and puffing. “Is this

fun for you? ’Cause this is definitely not my idea of a good time.”

I keep up my pace. Every time Carlos slips, he curses. You’d think

he’d concentrate hard on hiking and not slipping on the rocks, but he

keeps jabbering on.

“Did I tell you it’s annoyin’ that you hardly say anythin’ to me

anymore? You’re like a mute who doesn’t use any hand gestures. I mean,

seriously, it’s irritatin’ the hell outta me. Don’t you think I have enough

to deal with, bein’ framed, arrested, and havin’ to go to that stupid

REACH program?”

“Yes.” I come to the place where I have to go over a small ledge and

grab on to overhanging rocks for support. I’m fully supported and even

if I fall it’s only a few feet down to a flat area.

“Is this a joke?” he asks, following my lead just because at this

point he probably doesn’t think he has a choice. “Are we goin’

somewhere, or are you just wanderin’ around aimlessly until I slip and

plunge to my death?”

Climbing over the big rock that shields my spot from hikers, I stop

when I reach the open area with a big, lone tree. I stumbled upon this

place years ago, when I needed a place to just come and . . . think. Now

I come a lot. I do homework here, I draw, I listen to the birds, and I

take in the smell of fresh mountain air.

I sit on a flat rock, open my backpack, and place the water bottle

next to me. I open my calculus book and start doing my homework.

“Are you actually studyin’?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

I shrug. “Look around.”

He quickly looks left and right. “I don’t see nothin’ but rocks and

trees.”

“That figures.”

“Give me your keys,” he demands. “Now.”

I ignore him.

I hear him huff and puff. He could easily overpower me, grab my

backpack, and fish the keys out himself. But he doesn’t.

I keep my head in my book, going through equations and writing

notes on scratch paper. Carlos takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry.

Perdón. Madison and I are history, and I’d much rather model with you

than hang out with her. Wow, being in nature has restored my faith in

humanity and made me a better person. Now are you happy?”

TWENTY-FIVE :
Carlos

I watch as Kiara closes her book, looks up at me, then reaches in

her backpack. She tosses me the keys to her car. I catch them with

one hand.

“You just gonna stay here?”

“Yeah,” she answers.

“I’m leavin’,” I warn her.

“So go,” she says, waving.

I will. I sure as hell am not waitin’ for her to finish studying. I’m

hot, sweaty, and totally pissed off. And I’m thinking of ways to get

revenge, the first of which is taking her car and makin’ sure it comes

back without a lick of gas.

Shoving the keys into my back pocket, I start to climb down. I slide

a few times and fall on my ass. I’m gonna have more than one bruise in

the morning, thanks to Kiara. I briefly feel sorry for that dude Tuck

for having to deal with her, but then I figure they deserve each other.

My thoughts turn to Destiny. If she was up on this mountain all alone, I

wouldn’t let her out of my sight. I’d play her knight in shining armor.

Hell, I’d even carry her up the mountain on my back if that’s what she

wanted.

And while Kiara isn’t my girlfriend and never will be, I can’t just

leave her. I know there are bears here. What if she gets attacked by

one? Did she seriously expect me to leave, or is this a test to see what

a good guy I am?

She’s outta luck ’cause I’m not a good guy.

I keep slippin’ down the mountain. Just when I think I’ve found a

path, I get to a dead end or a fucking cliff.

I grab a rock and chuck it. Then another one. And another. Hearing

the echo of them bouncing off the rocks below eases my frustration

just a fraction. I take off my shirt, wipe my forehead, and tuck the

shirt into the back of my jeans. I’m not in Mexico anymore, that’s for

sure. Nobody I know would wander in the fucking mountains just to

study. Now, if the aim was to do drugs or get drunk, I could understand

it. I storm back up the rocks, cursing the lack of traction in my shoes,

and cursing Alex, mi'amá, and Kiara, and just about everyone else I’ve

ever met.

“You’re loco, chica,” I yell when I climb back over the rock that

shields her private spot. “I mean, seriously, did you expect me to follow

you up here just so you could toss me the keys to your car and leave?”

“I didn’t ask you to follow me,” she says.

“Like I had a choice?”

“We both have f-f-free will.”

“Yeah, well, my free will got taken away the minute I got on that

plane to Colorado.”

I sit on the ground, facing her. Kiara continues taking notes. We

came up here together, and we’re gonna leave here together. I’m not

gonna like it, but at this point I don’t see any other option. Every once

in a while she looks up and catches me staring at her. Yeah, I’m doing it

to make her uncomfortable. Maybe if I annoy her enough she’ll want to

pack up and leave. But after five minutes I can tell my strategy isn’t

workin’.

Time to change tactics. “Want to make out?”

“With who?” she asks, not bothering to look up.

“Me.”

She lifts her head from her book just long enough to give me a

once-over. “No, thanks,” she says, then goes back to her homework.

She’s fuckin’ with me.

She’s got to be fuckin’ with me, right? “Because of that pendejo

Tuck?”

“No. Because I don’t want Madison’s leftovers.”

Wait. Un. Momento. I’ve been called a lot of things before, but . . .

“You callin’ me leftovers?”

“Yeah. Besides, Tuck is a great kisser. I wouldn’t want you to feel

bad when there’s no way you can compete.”

That guy hardly owns a pair of lips. “Wanna bet?”

I’m anything but leftovers. After we moved to Mexico and Destiny

broke up with me, all I did was date one girl after another. Hell, I could

write a book on kissing chicas if I wanted to. I lean toward Kiara and

get a small dose of satisfaction when I hear her breath hitch and

notice her pencil stop moving. She doesn’t move an inch as my lips get

close to that place right below her right earlobe. I reach up with my

left hand and touch the sensitive spot below her left ear with my

thumb while my lips hover over her neck. She can definitely feel my hot

breath on her bare skin.

She tilts her head the slightest bit, giving me more access. I’m not

even sure she realized she’s doing it. I stay where I am. She moans

almost silently, but I don’t give in. She’s definitely being turned on. She

likes this. And she wants more. But I’m holding back . . . leftovers, my

ass.

The problem is, I’m not prepared for what Kiara smells like. Usually

girls smell too much like flowers or vanilla, but Kiara has a distinctly

sweet raspberry scent that’s totally turning me on. And while my mind

is telling me I’m flirting with her just to prove a point, my body wants

to play ‘you show me your perky privates and I’ll show you mine.’

“D-d-do you m-m-mind?” she says. She might be trying to mask her

reaction to me being so close, but her words betray her. “I’m trying to

work and you’re blocking my sun,” she whispers. I’m guessin’ she doesn’t

stutter when she whispers.

“We’re in the shade, under a tree,” I say, but pull away anyway

because I need to cool down and stay in control.

I lean back against a rock, the rough edges rubbing into my bare

back. I bend one knee and get in a relaxed position even though I’m

anything but relaxed. While I’m trying to get comfortable, Kiara is still

sitting under that damn tree doin’ her homework. She’s not sweating at

all, and she appears totally relaxed. I don’t know if I’m hot because of

what just happened, or didn’t happen, between us. Or if it’s because of

the weather. You’d think I’d be used to the hot weather from Mexico,

but I was born in Chicago and spent most of my life there. The

summers in Chi-Town are humid and hot, but it only lasts a few months.

My insides are going nuts. My heart is beating furiously and there’s a

crackling energy in the air that wasn’t there before I leaned close to

her.

What’s going on? The altitude must be screwing with my head. I

need to change the subject fast and direct the conversation away from

anything sexual. “So what’s the deal with your stutterin’?” I ask.

TWENTY-SIX :
Kiara

My pencil immediately stops moving. I try and concentrate on my

calculus equation, but I can’t focus on anything on the page. Nobody

who wasn’t a speech therapist has ever come right out and asked me

about my stuttering before. I’m not prepared to answer, especially

because I don’t know why I stutter. It’s just who I am, how I was born,

and everything in between.

Before Carlos asked about my stuttering, all I could think about

was our almost-kiss. His hot breath seared my skin and made my

stomach do flips. But he was just teasing me. I knew it and he knew it.

So as much as I wanted desperately to turn my head and find out what

his lips felt like on mine, I didn’t want to humiliate myself.

I shove everything into my backpack, then sling the bag onto my

back and head down the mountain.

I walk fast, hoping he’ll fall far enough behind he’ll have to

concentrate on keeping up and not ask more questions. I made a huge

mistake by bringing him here. It was impulsive and stupid. Worst of all,

I didn’t expect to want to kiss him more than anything in this world

right before he confronted me about my stuttering.

I cross the bridge over Boulder Creek and head for my car. I reach

in my backpack for my keys, but then realize Carlos still has them. I

hold my hand out. He doesn’t give me the keys. Instead he leans against

the car. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“I don’t make deals.”

“Everyone makes deals, Kiara. Even smart girls who stutter.”