Chain Reaction (9 page)

17

Luis

I don’t know what it is with this girl. She’s vulnerable and strong-willed at the same time. She makes me want to protect her, and at the same time peel back the layers of that wall she puts up.

“Let me hold you,” I say again.

She shakes her head. “No.”

I lean away from her. She’s shutting me out.

“Is it because of Hunter, or some other dude?”

“No. It’s because I don’t want to get serious with any guy.”

I shrug. “So let’s not be serious. Let’s just have fun with each other and see where it goes. I won’t pressure you or give you attitude. Just the real me.”

I know she’s thinking about it. At least she didn’t shut me down right away.

“That was a rush, wasn’t it?” Derek yells after he anchors the boat. He tosses a raft in the water, then does a backflip off the side.

Kendall jumps in next. “Come on, you guys!” she yells from the water.

Nikki strips off her shorts and tank top, revealing a red bikini with black trim. I watch as she stands on the edge of the boat with the tips of her toes hanging over the side. I’m mesmerized, but trying not to show it.

“So … Luis?” She looks back at me without her usual animosity. I notice the playful challenge laced in her voice. “You said we should have fun. Are you brave enough to take the plunge?”

18

Nikki

I only asked if he’d take the plunge in a moment of pure weakness.

I don’t have long to analyze his physique when he stands over the side, extends his muscular arms over his head, and dives in the water like an Olympic swimmer. I peer over the side of the boat, waiting for him to emerge from the water. When he doesn’t, I start freaking out.

“Where is he?” I ask in a panic.

“You lookin’ for me?” he asks. His voice echoes from the opposite side of the boat.

Instinctively, my hand flies to my chest. “Don’t do that again, Luis. You scared me half to death. I thought you’d drowned.”

“Considering he’s an all-state champion swimmer,” Derek says as he swims by Kendall, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

I arch an eyebrow. Luis, an all-state champion swimmer? I jump into the water, feet first. It’s not graceful, but I’m not an all-state champion swimmer—far from it.

“Let’s see how fast you are, Fuentes. How about a race?” Derek points to his left. “To the buoy over there and back. Girls get a head start.”

Kendall and I immediately start racing toward the buoy. The boys wait, but not for long. It’s not a fair race, because Luis and Derek pass us in less than five seconds. Derek is on the swim team at Fairfield and can definitely hold his own. Luis passes him easily, though, way before they reach the buoy.

Derek and Luis both stop at the buoy and wait for me and Kendall to catch up.

“What’s the holdup?” Derek calls out.

Kendall attempts to splash Derek, but he’s too far away. “You guys are such show-offs.”

“It’s the testosterone,” Luis says, treading water with seemingly no effort.

I swim harder, but too quickly I’m out of breath and need a second to rest.

“You girls have no stamina,” Derek says.

“I’ll show you stamina,” Kendall calls out, doing a pretty good breast stroke back to the boat. Derek follows close behind her, while Luis swims over to me. “You okay?”

Water drips off his lips, chin, and hair. He looks younger right now, kinda like he did when I first met him.

“I’m done racing, if that’s what you mean,” I tell him. I float on my back to give my body a rest.

Luis floats next to me, but grabs Derek’s abandoned raft that has floated near us and we both hang on to it. We stay silent for a while, riding the wakes of other boats skimming across the water while we stare up at the sky.

He points to one of the clouds. “Looks like a dog, doesn’t it? See the ears and long tail?”

“Looks like a snake to me. It can’t be a dog because it doesn’t have legs.”

He laughs. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“No, they’re not. I learned that the hard way,” I blurt out, then point to another cloud so he doesn’t analyze my comment. “That one’s shaped like a rainbow.”

“No, that’s a turtle,” he says. “See its head pokin’ out?”

“You’re wrong. That’s not a head. It’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow,” I counter in an Irish accent, reaching up to the sky and tracing the rainbow and the pot of gold with the tip of my finger.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Absolutely. I’m an expert on cloud formations.”

“Did you ever think what the earth would look like from space?”

I’ve never wondered about it. “I’ve seen pictures and video. Looks like a big marble.”

“I mean experience it, like be up there lookin’ down on earth. Would you go if you had the chance?” He lets go of the raft and puts his arms behind his head, floating on his back and looking up at the sky. “Man, I’d do anythin’ to go up there.”

“You could die on the way up … or down.”

“I don’t care. It’s worth the risk for the ultimate adventure. Bein’ so close to the moon and stars … knowin’ the universe is endless.”

“You’re daydreaming, Luis. Come back to earth.” I splash him.

He cocks his head to the side and says boldly, “Just so you know, I retaliate.”

I splash him again.

“I’m warnin’ you …”

When I splash him the third time and say “Bring it,” he ducks under the water. I kick my feet, wondering what he’ll do. “Luis, if you scare me or pull me under I’ll kill you. I swear it. I was kidding when I said ‘bring it.’ ”

I keep kicking. There’s no sign of Luis, not even a ripple in the water indicating he’s near me. The suspense is driving me nuts. I wait, still kicking. I know he’s around here somewhere, unless he really is a fish and is breathing underwater in some magical underworld. He’ll come up … but when?

He bursts out of the water right beside me, making a big splash with his entire body. I let out a very geeky yelp, which makes him laugh.

He swipes the water off his face with his hand. “You’re not as brave as you think you are,
mi chava
.”

“I’m brave when guys aren’t creeping up on me.”

“I don’t creep.”

“Stalk?”

“I don’t do that, either. When I like a girl, I’m not subtle. In third grade I put a love letter in Selena Ibarra’s desk.”

“What happened? Did she read it?”

“Yeah. She laughed. And then she showed it to everyone on the playground. I got made fun of until my brother Carlos threatened to kick anyone’s ass who gave me shit. Nobody really bothered me after that. Carlos is intimidating when he wants to be.”

“Do you think he’ll kick my ass if I give you shit?”

“He’s in the military, stationed overseas. I think you’re safe.”

“Good,” I say. “Then he won’t mind if I do this.” When I reach out to dunk him, he goes down easily. When he comes back up, we’re face-to-face.

My breathing gets harder and faster. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been in the lake for too long, or because he reminds me so much of Marco. Suddenly I can’t see clearly and my head spins.

“Whoa,” I say.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m suddenly light-headed.” I reach out and frantically grab his arm for support.

“You okay?” he asks, concern in his voice. His free arm reaches around my waist and holds me in a firm, protective grip … like a hero. Our legs touch under the water and it feels intimate even though it’s not.

I quickly take my hand off his arm. “Sorry. I just … got dizzy for a second. I’m fine.”

I thought Marco was my hero, but he wasn’t. Heroes are just made-up characters in fairy tales. They don’t exist. At least in my universe, they don’t. Luis is close to being one today, though.

He leads me back to the boat, staying by my side the entire time and asking periodically if I’m okay. Before we climb back up, he taps my arm. “Nik?”

“Yeah.”

“Just so you know, I’m havin’ a good time.”

I nod and give him a small smile. “Me, too. It’s a good thing we established this wasn’t a date.”

“I should warn you that I plan on spendin’ the rest of the day changin’ your mind,” he says with a big grin on his face.

19

Luis

After soccer practice on Monday, Marco and I hang out at his house. He rolls his eyes when I insist on doing my homework before we go off and party with some of the other guys.

After I’m done with my homework, Marco and I get in his black SUV with tinted windows and ride around town.

“I’ve been hangin’ out with Nikki,” I tell him when we turn down Green Bay Road.

“I know.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“What I got a problem with is you hangin’ with Derek and Ben—guys from the north. You belong with us, Luis. You’re one of us.”

“I’m not dissin’ you.”

“Just know where your loyalties lie.
¿Comprendes, compa?
”

“
Sí.
”

“Bien
. Now let’s go party at the beach, where the real Latinas are.”

I don’t tell him that Nikki is a real Latina, and I can’t get her out of my head. After our non-date on Derek’s boat, she said she needed space. I’m giving it to her, but I can’t deny I want to be with her.

Marco drives toward Lake Michigan. He doesn’t park near the public beach. Instead, he takes a right and heads for the secluded part of the beach where the Blood used to hang out.

“Why here?” I ask. The Blood aren’t active in Fairfield anymore, so I figure this part of the beach is deserted.

But it’s not.

“You didn’t hear the news?” Marco asks.

“What news?”

“Chuy Soto got out of the DOC on Friday.”

I freeze. Chuy is one dangerous motherfucker. I don’t suppose being locked up has reformed him. If he’s back, does that mean the LB is about to get stronger?

I’ve seen gang deaths, beatings, and bullshit. But I’ve also seen the honor and loyalty the guys in gangs have to their friends.

The beach is filled with guys from my ’hood;
my
people. Guys I haven’t seen since I moved back have come out of the woodwork for this welcome home party for Chuy.

We play football on the beach for a while. Afterward, Marco grabs a can of beer from a cooler. He gulps the alcohol until the liquid is running down the sides of his mouth. When he’s finished, he swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, tosses the empty can on the ground, and slaps his knees together as if he just made a touchdown.

Marco tosses me a can. “Your turn.”

I open the can and chug it in hopes the alcohol will erase the image of a soaking wet Nikki in a bikini from my mind. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. I reach in the cooler and take another can. I take big gulps, waiting for the buzz. I’ve haven’t gotten shit-faced drunk often, but then again, it isn’t often a girl invades my mind.

“Luis, come here!” Marco yells, waving me over.

I head over to where Marco and his boys are talking. “ ’Sup?” I ask.

“That’s Chuy Soto.” He nods in the direction of the newest person to walk down the beach.

The guy is as big as a bear, has tattoos completely covering his arms and neck, and walks with an intimidating don’t-fuck-with-me-or-you’re-dead swagger. To top off the look, a cigar hangs out of the side of his mouth.

Everyone is silent. Chuy stops when he reaches me. If I hadn’t grown up with gang members my entire life, I’d probably be shittin’ in my pants right about now.

“I heard a Fuentes had graced Fairfield with his presence,” Chuy says as he holds out his hand for me to shake.

“I brought him,” Marco says, proudly taking credit.

I shake Chuy’s hand with a strong, sure grip. Guys like Chuy respect anyone who doesn’t shiver in their boots when approached.

“
Caballeros
, let me talk to Fuentes alone,” Chuy says.

It doesn’t take more than that for Marco and the other guys to disperse. Marco joins the rest of the
ganga
who are surrounding a big pile of wood and sticks they’re about to light up.

“I asked Marco to bring you here tonight,” he says.

That doesn’t make sense. From what I heard, Chuy thought of my brother as a traitor ever since he got jumped out of the Blood. Why the sudden change of heart for a Fuentes brother? If Chuy considers Alex an enemy, why am I safe from his wrath?

Unless he expects me to replace Alex in the gang.

“I thought you were in jail,” I say.

He smiles, with the cigar still hanging out of the side of his mouth. “Let’s just say I got out on a technicality.” He leans forward and talks in a low voice. “Listen, I need to rebuild the Latino Blood, and you’re gonna help me do it.”

“Why me? I’m not connected.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Luis. You were born a Blood.” He pats me on the back. “And you’ll be an LB until the day you die.”

“If I were an animal, I’d most likely be …” by Luis Fuentes

Normally I like writing essays. Last year I wrote a paper in English about why certain aspects of Mexican culture had been integrated so completely into American society. I got an A, of course. Mr. Heilmann somehow got it printed in the local newspaper, which was pretty cool.

But now I’m stumped, which rarely happens. I bet most guys in my class’ll choose a lion, the king of the jungle. I’m not the king, and never have been.

Thinking of a king reminds me of Chuy Soto.

My pen is poised over my paper. I wonder if I was drunk last night or if Chuy really did say he expects me to help him rebuild the Latino Blood. I gaze at a picture of Alex, Brittany, and Paco on the wall.

Mi’amá
has the day off. I realize she’s not cooking like I thought. She’s got a cigarette perched between her fingers as she stands over the sink.

“I hate when you smoke,” I tell her.

“It relaxes me.” She takes a drag of the cigarette and taps the ash in the sink. “I got offered a job yesterday, as a receptionist. It’s at the hospital where Elena works.”

“That’s cool.”

“It’s decent money, and includes health benefits,” she says, then lifts the cigarette to her lips again.

“You okay, Ma? You look like you’re freakin’ out.”

“
Estoy bien
.” She blows out smoke. “Well, everything’s not fine. I got a call today that Carlos was injured.”

I start to panic as horrific images of soldiers who’ve come back in wheelchairs and lost limbs swirl in my head. “What happened? Give it to me straight.”

“Nothing serious, but bad enough that he’s coming home to recuperate.”

“What do you mean it’s nothin’ serious?” I ask. “If he’s comin’ home, it’s got to be bad.”

“It’s his leg. He had to have surgery and couldn’t join the rest of his unit, so they’re forcing him to take a medical leave. He also has to decide it he wants to reenlist. I want him home, but …”

“You heard that Chuy Soto got out of jail.”

“Elena just found out from Jorge.” She points the cigarette at the doorway. “You just make sure you stay away from him. I don’t want you or Carlos getting messed up with him, or the LB.”

Too late for that. I rub the knot forming in the back of my neck. How do I say this? I hesitate and my palms get sweaty. “Ma, did I get ‘blessed in’ the LB?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Chuy Soto said somethin’ to me about bein’ born a Blood and, well, I didn’t know what he meant.”

She points to me, her finger shaking. “You don’t listen to Chuy, Luis. You hear me? Just stay away from him.”

“He’s runnin’ things again. He wants to rebuild the LB.”

I know I have a crazy, dangerous streak—an urge to charge into danger. For the most part I’ve controlled it, but when I met Chuy last night … I kinda got an adrenaline rush at the prospect of facing him head on—to make him pay for his part in Alex’s jumping out, which almost cost him his life.

Mi’amá
takes another drag of her cigarette. “Just keep your distance and don’t ask questions.”

“Don’t I have the right to know why the new head of the Blood thinks I’m one of them?” I ask her.

She cups my cheek in her hand. “No, Luis. No questions. We’re always better off not asking questions. You’re safe. We’re all safe as long as you stay away from Chuy.”

I don’t tell her that I don’t want to stay away, because I want to find out what Chuy has planned. The more power he has, the less power the rest of us in Fairfield have. If Chuy has control, he can order revenge on Alex. If my family is in danger, I need to know.

Getting close to Chuy is my only option.