Dance For Me (31 page)

              “Sorry, you were busy.” She turned around and headed down the driveway. She felt like an idiot and knew it’d take a while for this humiliation to dissolve.

              “What, you gonna’ walk?” Shane walked down the driveway, watching Hope walk off. “I thought you wanted to talk?” he called out.

            “Shit,” she muttered to himself. 

          He held a finger up to his friends and jogged after Hope.

             “What’s up, I thought you wanted to talk about something?”

            She stopped.

              “It’s okay.”

              “Are you upset cause she’s here,” he asked, referring to Marisol. 

            “No, you can do what you want.”

             She bit her bottom lip. She’d switched shifts with Marisol tonight because Marisol wanted the night off. Now she knew why.

             “You’re going to walk home?” He scoffed, annoying her.

             “I feel stupid.”

              “Why?” He checked her out for a second. “What you wearing under that? Where your shoes? What happened to you?”

             “I want to be with you,” she blurted. “I want to be with you so bad.”

              Dumbfounded, he stared back at her through wide eyes.

             “And I should believe this why?”

              The last thing she wanted was for him to be an asshole and he was kind of acting like one.

              “Look, it’s not easy.”

               “If you want to be with someone, shouldn’t it come easy?”

               “Well it’s not always.”

               “I don’t get you.”

              “How do I explain myself?” 

             ”Just say it.”

              “I want to be with you; I don’t know what else to say.”

              He offered her ride to anywhere she had to go but that was all he wanted to offer.

                 “I have triple A,” he suggested.

                 They got into his car. Hope sat in silence wondering if she had screwed this up or not. She was pretty sure she had because he wasn’t saying much. 

                 “You’re just going to leave your friends, Marisol?”

                  “They’ll be all right,” he said as he backed out of the driveway. “I’m just dropping you off.”

                  She discreetly examined his face. His eyes were beautiful and the pensiveness on his face was sexy. Men are so beautiful, really. He was leaning back as he drove, one arm stretched out. She stared at his hand on the wheel. His knuckles were big and defined and his hands looked kind of rough. His shirt and pants were baggy enough for two of her to fit into. When he reached the end of his block, she leaned in to him and put her finger tips on the side of his face. He needed to shave. She turned his head toward hers which he reluctantly let her do.  His eyes were still on the street but then he rolled them to the two windows in her face.

                    “What up?” 

                   The car idled at the stop. She was staring at his lips. 

                    “You wanna be wit me?”

                    “I want to be with you,” she replied. 

                      “No shit?”

                       “No shit,” she promised.  “But please don’t break my heart. If you did, I wouldn’t have faith in anything.”

                       “What, you think you’re the only one with something to lose or what? You think I don’t have feelings? You think I’m not putting something on the line too?”

                        “We can take it a day at a time,” she suggested. “Nothing’s holding me back anymore.”

                       “Can you honestly say that?”

                       “I promise.”

                        She put her hands on her lap and continued studying his attire, the way he carried himself. She realized she liked his style a lot and she could only pray he would give her another chance. She wasn’t used to seeing him serious so right now she was in the dark, waiting…

                     Shane put the car in reverse and then pulled into his driveway.

                        “I’ll tell them to leave. We can hang out tonight. Or we can go get your car.”

                       “I don’t care about that right now.”

                       “You really are done with him?”

                       She half smiled.

                      “Who?”

  He smiled but when he took the keys from the ignition, he still looked serious, almost pissed. Hope didn’t know what to think. He got out of the car and said something to his friends. He went back to the car to open Hope’s door. She followed him inside his house where it smelled like onion rings, and on the kitchen counter there were empty bottles of beer and cups.

                     “Just a bbq I had earlier.”

                      Shane’s friends entered through the kitchen and said their byes. Marisol was already gone. Hope was polite and waved to each of them. Shane locked the front door behind them and went back to the kitchen where Hope was standing. She asked to use bathroom and washed her face at the sink, her feet in the tub. While rummaging through her purse for aspirin, she came across a pair of fold up flats she used for walking the strip.

“Oh that’s nice.” She walked out of the bathroom, feet still wet, and went into the kitchen where Shane was.

“So what happened to you tonight?” He fixed her a plate of carne asada and beans his friend’s mom made.

 “I quit.” She crossed her arms on the table top and watched him microwave her food. 

“Really? What made you quit?”

She blinked and looked down at her arms.

“I just…felt like it.”

The microwave’s soft bell chimed and he took out her smoking plate.

“It’s really hot, so be careful with that.”

Hope looked up from the plate and stared into his eyes when he sat down. She’d washed her makeup off and looked paler than usual.

“Should we get your car?”

She stared at him across the table.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

After a few more seconds, Hope got up from her seat, eyes on him the entire time. The way she moved when she floated to him had his heart beating hard inside his chest. She straddled him similar to before in her kitchen. She reached over his head to flick off the kitchen lights, her right breast brushing his face. Like unwrapping some fine chocolate, she unbuttoned her wrap and then weaved her upper body out of it. Their breath was all steamy between their mouths, his hands firmly gripping her head. Her strands of hair glided through his fingers and he grabbed strong hold of her roots.

  Platinum waves from the pool reflected on the walls, dancing over them. Shane being completely clothed and her completely naked, watched the skinny gold bands around her wrist slide to her elbow. He put his arms around the warm smoothness of her body, wrapping her hair around his wrist, tasting her mouth.

“Oh yea,” thought Shane. ”I’m in love.”

            Hope snugged up against Shane, bare legs against the white tile that made up his kitchen floor. With his fingertips he gently brushed the back of her neck, running them down the bump of her spine. She was starting to get familiar with his scent and feel. She stayed quiet and watched the electric waves move in strange motions on the wall. 

                “So you gonna tell me the whole story about tonight?” he asked, breaking the silence.

               “I quit my job,” she muttered, her cheek pressed to his chest. “I still can’t believe I did that.”

              “Dare I ask why?” he joked.

                “Long story… too long.”

                 “Hey,” he said, getting a wild idea. “I’m on hiatus these next two weeks. Let’s go somewhere.”

               She moved her head.

                  “Go where?”

                “Anywhere. You ever been to California?”

                She nodded.

              “Years ago.”

              “We’ll drive out there, maybe stay by the beach.”

              It sounded good and oddly enough, Dominic wasn’t a speed bump in the smooth drive of thoughts in her head.

              “Really?”

               “Let’s go tomorrow!”                 

                 He moved so she sat up. 

                 “Tomorrow?”

                 “Why not?”

                She shrugged. 

             “I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.”

               “We’ve leave tomorrow night.”

He got up off the cold tile floor and reached for his cigarettes on the counter, put one between his lips and lit it. She took the cigarette from his mouth and took a long, leisurely drag. A smile spread across her face. 

                   “Yeah, let’s do that.” She put the cigarette between her lips and climbed into Shane, whose touch she was in love with. He carried her to the bedroom and together they fell into bed with nothing but the sound of his pool filter humming outside the window. 

  59... No hope

Zefar led Shamayla into their old bedroom. It wasn’t how she remembered it. There was new carpeting; silver and plush. He took out the stripper pole, which was a relief. He slid open one mirrored closet door displaying dresses in bold colors with lots of gold trimming. He bought her a vanity set too, already adorned with little bottles of nail polish in M&M colors and perfume in colored glass. He pulled the chair and invited her to sit down. She looked in the mirror, her hair tossed to one side of her head.

“Did you sleep together,” he asked referring to Justin. Zefar slid his fingers tips up and down her arms. She swallowed her vomit and looked back at him through the mirror.

“I just want to know if my wife has been contaminated?”

Shamayla reached in her purse for a cigarette and lit it, irritating Zefar who really was trying to keep his cool. But he wanted to hit her right in the middle of the face. He got up and left her alone for a moment, but came back with a douche and bottle of bleach. She loathed Zefar and painfully missed Justin. But that was okay, she reminded herself, because what gets results like determination? Zefar himself was all the motivation she needed to put the sucker in his dirt bed. She assured herself that in due time, things would fall into place. She had to play her cards right and that meant putting up with a lot of nonsense.

 Tristan Barged in on Pablo at the garage he conducted business in. She was there for her money but saw something else that caught her eye. The guys were sitting on a couch, hunched over a table, thick smoke swirling amidst them. Pablo was going off on someone for not locking the door. He reached out for Tristan’s shoulder. She looked away from the table lit up by a hovering lamp, guns of different type and size. 

“Here’s your money,”

Tristan ignored Pablo and slowly went over to the table. 

“I want one of these.”

“They’re not toys,” Pablo whispered, pulling her away.

“Keep the money. I want one.”

“You are one hard headed…” Pablo shook his head.

One of Pablo’s friends adjusted the cap on his head and looked over Tristan.

“What you looking for?”

“Something small,” she said, pointing at one. “Like that.”

“It’s cool,” the guy said to Pablo, then invited Tristan to sit with him.

Tristan couldn’t tell by just looking at the weapons which one she’d feel comfortable with. He let her hold them.

“Try this one,” he suggested, handing her an MP-44.

“No, I want the MP-45.” She picked it up and looked it over. 

Pablo scoffed.

“WHatchu’ know about MP-45?”

“It looks better than the 44. It’s cute,” she smiled, admiring the gun. She got a rush just thinking about what this thing could do. “I want this one.”

Tristan sat Indian-style at the foot of her bed, the semi- automatic in her hands. Her dad tapped on her door and turned the knob. She quickly hid it under a pillow and put her hands together like she was doing absolutely nothing. Dan crossed her arms and looked at his daughter.

“Please Tristan, don’t make this worse.”

“You don’t know how I feel.”

“I know how you feel-“

“No, you don’t!” She got up on feet and paced her room in a rage, tossing stuff around. 

“You didn’t get spit and crapped on!”

“See what I mean? You get too worked up. Calm down.”

“You don’t understand, no one does!” Tristan cried like child and then buried her face in a pillow.

“Tristan, sometimes you have to know when to cut your losses. This is one of those times. Believe me, you don’t want to do anything stupid. Get your head on right-and stop hanging out with Charla! That girl’s nothing but trouble and I don’t want her around.”

Forget about Charla. Tristan stopped crying. What she had planned was better than anything half assed idea Charla could come up with.

“I love you, Tris.”

Julie stepped in the room.

“It’s okay Tris, you don’t have to show me around Vegas this time. I mean it’s not like I’m here all the time or anything.”

“Julie-“ Dan interrupted.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Tristan forced herself off her bed. “I’m totally fine.” At least in a short time she would be. 

“Yeah,” Julie said tossing her hair over her shoulder. “He’s a frikken loser, Dad! She can do better.”

Later that night after getting dressed up, she and her sister and some friends headed out. Dan stopped Tristan before she got into her car and reminded her to think before acting. For a moment Tristan wondered if she was strong enough to let it go…to let him go. For sure if Hope was out of the picture…The girls made commotion in the back seat, waking Tristan from her dream state.

“Let it go,” said a voice in her head. Only she wasn’t so sure she could.

 60... Love is a cocktail

“Wait, wait!” A medical assistant called out from behind Hope. “The doctor needs to see you back in here.”