“Paco, what are you doing here?” The last person I expected to see at my house is Alex’s best friend.
“I kinda need to talk to you.”
“Want to come in?”
“You sure it’s okay?” he asks nervously.
“Of course.” Well, it probably isn’t okay with my parents, but it is to me. It’s not like my parents will suddenly decide not to send Shelley away. I’m tired of pretending, of being afraid of my mom’s wrath. This guy is Alex’s best friend, and he accepts me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to come here. Opening the door wide, I let Paco in. If he asks me about Isabel, what do I say? She swore me to secrecy.
“Who’s at the door, Brit?”
“This is Paco,” I explain to my mom. “He’s a friend of mine from school.”
“Dinner’s on the table,” my mother hints not too subtly. “Tell your friend it’s not polite to visit during dinner hours.”
I turn to Paco. “Want to eat over?” I’m being rebellious and it feels good. Cathartic.
I hear my mom’s footsteps stomping to the kitchen.
“Uh, no thanks,” Paco says, stifling a laugh. “I thought maybe we could talk, you know, about Alex.”
I don’t know if I’m relieved he’s not asking what I know about Isabel, or nervous because if Paco came here it’s serious.
I lead Paco through the house. We pass Shelley in the family room looking at some magazine. “Shelley, this is Paco. He’s Alex’s friend. Paco, this is my sister, Shelley.”
At the mention of Alex’s name, Shelley gives a happy squeal.
“Hey, Shelley,” Paco says.
Shelley smiles wide.
“Shell-bell, I need you to do me a favor.” Shelley bobs her head in response as I whisper, “I need you to keep Mom occupied while I talk to Paco.”
Shelley grins, and I know my sister will come through for me.
My mother pops into the room, ignoring me and Paco as she wheels Shelley into the kitchen.
I look at Paco warily as I lead him outside so we can have privacy from eavesdropping mothers. “What’s up?”
“Alex needs help. He won’t listen to me. A big drug deal is goin’ down and Alex is the elmero mero, the key guy runnin’ the show.”
“Alex wouldn’t do a drug deal. He promised me.”
The look on Paco’s face tells me he knows otherwise.
“I’ve tried to reason with him,” Paco says. “This thing . . . it’s with big-time dealers. Somethin’ doesn’t feel right about it, Brittany. Hector’s makin’ Alex do this and for the life of me I don’t know why. Why Alex?”
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Tell Alex to find a way out. If anyone can get out of it, it’s him.”
Tell him? Alex resents being told to do anything. I can’t imagine he would agree to do a drug deal.
“Brittany, dinner is already cold!” my mother yells from the kitchen window. “And your father just got home. Let’s sit down as a family for once.”
The sound of crashing dishes brings my mother back in the house. Shelley’s brilliant move, no doubt.
But it really isn’t Shelley’s job to keep me from telling my parents the truth. “Wait here,” I say. “Unless you want to witness an Ellis family argument.”
Paco rubs his hands together. “This has got to be better than my family fights.”
I walk into the kitchen and give my dad a peck on the cheek.
“Who’s your friend?” my dad asks warily.
“Paco, this is my dad. Dad, this is my friend Paco.”
Paco says, “Hey.” My dad nods. My mom grimaces.
“Paco and I need to go.”
“Where?” my dad asks, totally confused.
“To see Alex.”
“No you’re not,” my mom says.
My dad holds up his hands, clueless. “Who’s Alex?”
“That other Mexican boy I was telling you about,” my mom says tightly. “Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t remember anything these days, Patricia.”
My mom stands, her plateful of food in hand, and tosses it into the sink. The dish breaks and the food flies all over. “We’ve given you everything you want, Brittany,” my mother says. “A new car, designer clothes—”
My patience snaps. “That’s totally superficial, Mom. Sure, on the outside everyone sees you guys as successful, but as parents you really suck. I’d give you both a C minus on parenting and you’re lucky it isn’t Mrs. Peterson grading you or you’d flunk. Why are you afraid of being seen as having problems like the rest of the world?”
I’m on a roll and can’t stop. “Listen, Alex needs my help. One of the things that makes me who I am is the loyalty I have to people I hold close to my heart. If that hurts or scares you, I’m sorry,” I say.
Shelley makes a commotion and we all turn to her. “Brittany,” comes a computer voice from the PCD attached to my sister’s wheelchair. Shelley’s fingers are busy punching in the words: “Good. Girl.”
I wrap my fingers around my sister’s hand before I talk to my parents again. “If you want to kick me out, or disown me for being who I am, then do it and get it over with.”
I’m done being scared. Scared for Alex, Shelley, and myself. It’s time to face all my fears, or I’ll lose myself in grief and guilt my entire life. I’m not perfect. It’s time the entire world realizes it, too.
“Mom, I’m going to see the social worker at school.”
My mom scrunches up her face in disgust. “That’s asinine. It’ll be in your school rec ords the rest of your life. You don’t need a social worker.”
“Yes, I do.” I steel myself and add, “You do, too. We all do.”
“Listen to me, Brittany. If you walk out that door . . . don’t come back.”
“You’re being rebellious,” my dad interjects.
“I know. And it feels so good.” I grab my purse. It’s all I have, unless you include the clothes on my back. I put on a huge smile and hold my hand out to Paco. “Ready to go?”
He doesn’t miss a beat as he takes my hand. “Yep.” When we’re in his car he says, “You are one tough chick. I never thought you had the fight in you.” Paco drives me to the darkest part of Fairfield. He leads me to a large ware house on a secluded back road. As if Mother Nature is sending us a warning, menacing dark clouds fill the sky and a chill fills the air.
A burly guy stops us. “Who’s the snow girl?” he asks.
Paco says, “She’s clean.”
The guy eyes me up and down suggestively before opening the door. “She starts sniff n’ around and it’ll be on your head, Paco,” he warns.
All I want to do is take Alex away from here, away from what feels like danger all around. “Hey,” a gravelly voice from beside me calls out. “If you want something to pick you up, come to me, sí?”
“Follow me,” Paco says, grabbing my arm and pulling me straight ahead through a corridor. Voices come from the opposite side of the ware house . . . Alex’s voice.
“Let me go to him myself,” I say.
“That’s not such a hot idea. Wait until Hector’s done talkin’ to him,” Paco says, but I don’t listen.
I walk toward Alex’s voice. He’s talking with two other guys. They’re obviously having a serious conversation. One of the guys pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to Alex. That’s when Alex notices me.
Alex says something to the guy in Spanish before folding the paper and shoving it into his jeans pocket. His voice is hard and tough, like his expression right now. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asks me.
“I just—”
I can’t finish my sentence because Alex grabs hold of my upper arm. “You just are leavin’ here this instant. Who the fuck brought you here?”
I’m trying to think of a response when Paco appears out of the darkness.
“Alex, please. Paco might have brought me here, but it was my idea.”
“You culero,” Alex says, letting go of me while facing Paco.
“Isn’t this your future, Alex?” Paco asks. “Why are you ashamed to show your novia your home away from home?”
Alex throws a punch, connecting with Paco’s jaw. Paco goes down. I run to him, then give Alex a sharp, warning look. “I can’t believe you did that!” I scream. “He’s your best friend, Alex.”
“I don’t want you seein’ this place!” A trickle of blood streams down Paco’s mouth. “You shouldn’t have brought her,” Alex says, calmly this time. “She doesn’t belong here.”
“Neither do you, bro,” Paco says quietly. “Now take her away. She’s seen enough.”
“Come with me,” Alex orders, holding out his hand.
Instead of coming to him, I cup Paco’s face with my hands and inspect the damage. “My God, you’re bleeding,” I say, starting to freak out. Blood is enough to make me sick. Blood and violence always push me over the edge.
Paco gently pushes my hand away. “I’ll be fine. Go with him.”
A voice booms from the darkness, speaking Spanish to Alex and Paco.
I shiver at the authority in the guy’s voice. I wasn’t scared before, but I definitely am now. The guy had been talking to Alex earlier. He’s dressed in a dark suit with a stark white dress shirt underneath. I saw him briefly at the wedding. His jet black hair is slicked back and his complexion is dark. One look and I know this is someone very powerful in the Latino Blood. Two large, mean-looking guys stand on either side of him.
“Nada, Hector,” Alex and Paco say in unison.
“Take her somewhere else, Fuentes.”
Alex takes my hand and hurries me out of the ware house. When we’re finally outside, I exhale deeply.
