Perfect Chemistry 1 (39 page)

her.

Colin appears beside Darlene. He scowls at me. "Alex deserved what

he got," he hisses.

Whether it's right or wrong, fight for what you believe in. My

hands are already in fists when I swing at him.

He dodges the punch, then grabs my wrist and twists it behind my

back.

Doug steps forward. "Let her go, Colin."

"Stay out of this, Thompson."

"Dude, humiliating her because she dumped you for another guy is

plain lame."

Colin pushes me aside and pulls up his sleeves.

I can't allow Doug to fight my battle. "If you want to fight him,

you'll have to get past me first," I say.

To my surprise, Isabel steps in front of me. "And you'll have to get

past me to get to her."

Sierra takes a place beside Isabel. "And me, too."

A Mexican guy named Sam pushes Gary Frankel next to Isabel.

"This guy can break your arm with one snap, asshole. Get out of my

sight before I sic him on you," Sam says.

Gary, who's wearing a coral shirt and white pants, growls to look

tough. It doesn't work.

Colin looks left and right for support but can't find any.

I blink in disbelief. Maybe the universe was in disarray before, but

now it's back in alignment.

"Come on, Colin," Darlene orders. "We don't need these pathetic

lame-o's anyway." They walk off together. I almost feel sorry for

them. Almost.

"I'm so proud of you, Douggie," Sierra says, throwing herself on

him. They start making out immediately, not caring who's watching or

about Fairfield's PDA policy.

"I love you," Doug says when they come up for air.

"I love you, too," Sierra coos in a baby voice.

"Get a room," another classmate calls out.

But they keep kissing until music plays from the loudspeakers. The

crowd disperses. I'm still clutching the hand warmers.

Isabel kneels next to me. "I never told Paco how I felt, you know. I

never took the risk, and now it's too late."

"I'm so sorry, Isa. I took the risk and lost Alex anyway, so maybe

you're better off."

She shrugs, and I know she's trying to keep it together so she

doesn't break down at school. "I suppose I'll get over it one day. It's

not likely, but I can hope, can't I?" She straightens her shoulders and

stands, putting on a brave front. I watch as she walks to class,

wondering if she talks about it with her other friends or if she

confides only in me.

"Come on," Sierra says, unlocking herself from Doug's embrace and

pulling me toward the school exit. I wipe my eyes with the back of my

hand and sit on the curb beside Sierra's car, not caring that I'm

ditching class.

"I'm fine, Sierra. Really."

"No, you're not fine. Brit, I'm your best friend. I'll be here before

and after your boyfriends. So spill your guts. I'm all ears."

"I loved him."

"No shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don't know."

"He used me. He had sex with me to win a bet. And I still love him.

Sierra, I am pathetic."

"You had sex and didn't tell me? I mean, I thought it was a rumor.

You know, of the untrue kind."

I lean my head in my hands in frustration.

"I'm just kidding. I don't even want to know. Okay, I do, but only if

you want to tell me," Sierra says. "Forget about that now. I saw the

way Alex always looked at you, Brit. That's why I laid off you for liking

him. There was no way he was acting. I don't know who told you about a

supposed bet--"

I look up. "He did. And his friends confirmed it. Why can't I let

him go?"

Sierra shakes her head, as if erasing the words I've said. "First

things first." She grabs my chin and forces me to look at her. “Alex

had feelings for you, whether he admitted it to you or not, whether

there was a bet or not. You know that, Brit, or you wouldn't be

clutching those hand warmers like that. Second of all, Alex is out of

your life and you owe it to yourself, to his goofy friend Paco, and to me

to keep plugging along even if it's not easy."

"I can't help but think he pushed me away on purpose. If I could

only talk to him, I can get answers."

"Maybe he doesn't have the answers. That's why he left. If he

wants to give up on life, to ignore what's right in front of him, so be it.

But you show him that you're stronger than that."

Sierra is right. For the first time I feel I can make it through the

rest of senior year. Alex took a piece of my heart that night we made

love, and he'll forever hold it. But that doesn't mean my life has to be

on hold indefinitely. I can't run after ghosts.

I'm stronger now. At least, I hope I am.

Two weeks later I'm the last one in the locker room to change for

gym. The click of heels makes me look up.

It's Carmen Sanchez. I don't freak out. Instead, I stand and look

right at her.

"He was back in Fairfield, you know," she tells me.

"I know," I say, remembering the hand warmers in my locker. But

he left. Like a whisper, he was there and then disappeared.

She looks almost nervous, vulnerable. "You know those giant

stuffed-animal prizes at the carnival? The kind practically nobody wins,

except the lucky few? I've never won one."

"Yeah. I've never won one, either."

"Alex was my giant prize. I hated you for taking him away," she

admits.

I shrug. "Yeah, well, stop hating me. I don't have him, either."

"I don't hate you anymore," she says. "I've moved on."

I swallow and then say, "Me, too."

Carmen chuckles. Then, just as she walks out of the room, I hear

her mumble, "Alex sure as hell hasn't."

What's that supposed to mean?

Five Months Later

The smell of August in Colorado is definitely different from the

smell in Illinois. I shake out my new, short hairstyle, not even bothering

to smooth the frizzies down as I attempt to unpack boxes in my dorm

room at the university.

My roommate, Lexie, is from Arkansas. She's like a little pixie,

short and sweet; she could definitely pass for one of Tinkerbell's

descendents. I swear I've never seen her frown. Sierra, at the

University of Illinois, wasn't so lucky with her roommate, Dara. The girl

has divided the closet and room into separate quarters and gets up at

5:30 a.m. every day (even weekends) to work out in their dorm room.

Sierra is miserable, but she's spending most of her time in Doug's

dorm room so it's not too bad.

"Ya sure you don't want t'go with us?" Lexie asks me, her Southern

drawl flowing from each word. She's going with a bunch of other

freshman girls to the quad, where there's some kind of welcome party.

"I've got to finish unpacking, then I'm going to see my sister. I

promised her I'd visit as soon as I unpacked."

"Okay," Lexie says, pulling out and trying on clothes to get the

‘perfect look’ for tonight. When she finds an outfit, she fixes her hair

and touches up her makeup. It makes me think of the old me, the one

who tried so hard to meet everyone's expectations.

When Lexie leaves a half hour later, I sit on my bed and pull out my

cell phone. Flipping it open, I stare at the picture of Alex and me. I

hate myself for having the urge to look at it. So many times I've tried

to force myself to delete the pictures, erase the past. But I can't.

I reach into my desk drawer and pull out Alex's bandanna, fresh

and clean and folded up neatly into a square.

I touch the smooth material, remembering when Alex gave it to me.

To me, it doesn't represent the Latino Blood. It represents Alex.

My cell rings, bringing me back to the present. It's someone from

Sunny Acres. When I answer it, a woman's voice is on the other end of

the line.

"Is this Brittany Ellis?"

"Yes."

"This is Georgia Jackson, from Sunny Acres. Everything is just fine

with Shelley, but she wanted to know if you'd be here before or after

dinner."

I look at my watch. It's four thirty. "Tell her I'll be there in

fifteen minutes. I'm leaving now."

After I hang up, I place the bandanna back in my desk drawer and

shove the phone into my purse.

Taking the bus to the other side of town doesn't take long, and

before I know it I'm walking toward the lounge at Sunny Acres where

the receptionist said my sister was.

I spot Georgia Jackson first. She's been the link between Shelley

and me when I call to ask about her every few days. Her friendly and

warm welcome greets me.

"Where's Shelley?" I ask, scanning the room.

"Playing checkers, as usual," Georgia says, pointing to the corner.

Shelley isn't facing me, but I recognize the back of her head and her

wheelchair.

She's squealing, a hint that she won the game.

As I get closer to her, I catch a glimpse of who's playing against

her. The dark hair should have been a clue that my life is about to be

turned upside down, but it doesn't fully register. I freeze.

It can't be. My imagination must be going berserk.

But when he turns around and those familiar dark eyes pierce mine,

reality zings up my spine like a lightning bolt.

Alex is here. Ten steps away from me. Oh, God, every feeling I've

ever had for him comes rushing back like a tidal wave. I don't know

what to do or say. I turn back to Georgia, wondering if she knew Alex

was here. One look at her hopeful face tells me she did.

"Brittany's here," I hear him tell Shelley before he stands and

carefully turns her wheelchair around so she can face me.

Like a robot, I walk toward my sister and wrap her in a hug. When I

release her, Alex is standing in front of me, wearing khaki chinos and a

blue-checkered button-down shirt. I can only stare at him, my stomach

doing weird flip-flops, making me queasy. The world recedes at the

edges, and all I can see is him.

I finally find my voice. "A-Alex . . . ? W-what are you doing here?" I

ask, all tongue-tied.

He shrugs. "I promised Shelley a rematch, didn't I?"

We stand here, staring at each other, some invisible force keeping

me from looking away. "You came all the way to Colorado to play

checkers with my sister?"

"Well, that's not the only reason. I'm goin' to college here. Mrs. P.

and Dr. Aguirre helped me get a GED after I quit the Blood. I sold

Julio. I'm workin' at the student union and takin' out loans."

Alex? In college? His shirtsleeves, neatly buttoned at his wrists,

hide most of his Latino Blood tattoos. "You quit? I thought you said it

was too dangerous to quit, Alex. You said people who try to get out

die."

"I almost did. If it weren't for Gary Frankel, I probably wouldn't

have made it. . . ."

"Gary Frankel?" The nicest, geekiest guy in school? For the first

time I scan Alex's face and see a faint, new scar above his eye and

nasty ones by his ear and neck. "Oh, God! W-what did they d-do to

you?"

He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His eyes are intense

and dark, like they were the first time I noticed him in the parking lot

that first day of school senior year. "It took me a long time to realize

I needed to fix everything The choices I made. The gang. Bein' beaten

to within an inch of my life and branded like cattle was nothin'

compared to losin' you. If I could take back every word I said in the

hospital, I would. I thought if I pushed you away, I'd be protectin' you

from what happened to Paco and my dad." He looks up and his eyes

pierce mine. "I'll never push you away again, Brittany. Ever. I swear."

Beaten? Branded? I'm feeling sick to my stomach and tears sting

my eyes.

"Shh." He puts his arms around me, rubbing his hands across my

back. "It's all right. I'm okay," he chants over and over again, his voice

catching.

He feels good. This feels good.

He rests his forehead against mine. "You need to know somethin'. I

agreed to the bet because deep down I knew that if I got emotionally

involved, it'd kill me. And it nearly did. You were the one girl who made

me risk everythin' for a future worth havin'." He straightens and takes

one step back to look me in the eye. "I'm so sorry. Mujer, tell me what

you want and I'll give it to you. If it'll make you happy for me to leave

you alone for the rest of your life, say the word. But if you still want

me, I'll do my best to be this. . . ." He gestures to his clothes. "How can

I prove to you I've changed?"

"I've changed, too," I tell him. "I'm not the girl I was before. And

I'm sorry, but those clothes . . . they're not you."

"It's what you want."

"You're wrong, Alex. I want you. Not a fake image. I definitely

prefer you in jeans and a T-shirt, because that's who you are."

He looks down at his attire and chuckles. "You're right." He looks

back up at me. "You once said you loved me. Do you still?"

My sister is watching this exchange between us. She smiles warmly

at me, giving me the strength to tell him the truth. "I never stopped

loving you. Even when I tried desperately to forget you, I couldn't."

He lets out a long, slow breath and rubs his forehead in relief. His

eyes look glassy, filled with emotion. I feel my own eyes welling up again