Perfect Chemistry 1 (18 page)

be able to afford a car that isn't rusted, used, or old. After I step out

of her car, I pull out Colin's picture from my back pocket and toss it on

the seat I just vacated.

"Wait!" Brittany calls out as I'm walking away.

I turn around and she's right in front of me. "What?"

She smiles seductively as if she's wanting something more than a

truce. Way more. Shit, is she gonna kiss me?

I'm taken off guard here, which usually doesn't happen. She bites

her bottom lip, as if she's contemplating her next move. I'm totally

game to making out with her.

As my brain goes through every scenario, she steps closer to me.

And snatches my keys out of my hand.

"What do you think you're doin'?" I ask her.

"Getting you back for kidnapping me." She steps back and with all

her might whips my keys into the woods.

"You did not just do that."

She backs up, facing me the entire time, as she moves toward her

car. "No hard feelings. Payback's a bitch, ain't it, Alex?" she says,

trying to keep a straight face.

I watch in shock as my chem partner gets into her Beemer. The car

drives out of the lot without a jolt, jerk, or hitch. Flawless start.

I'm pissed off because I'm going to have to either crawl around in

the dark woods trying to find my keys or call Enrique to pick me up.

I'm also amused. Brittany Ellis bested me at my own game.

"Yeah," I say to her even though she's probably a mile away and

can't hear me. "Payback is a bitch." Carajo!

TWENTY-FIVE : Brittany

The sound of my sister's heavy breathing beside me is the first

thing I hear as early morning sunlight pours into her room. I'd gone to

Shelley's room and laid next to her for hours, watching her sleep

peacefully before drifting off myself.

When I was little, I would hurry to my sister's room whenever

there was a thunderstorm. Not to comfort Shelley, but so she could

comfort me. I would hold Shelley's hand and somehow my fears would

fade.

Watching my older sister sleep soundly, I can't believe my parents

want to send her away. Shelley is a big part of who I am; the thought

of living without her seems so--wrong. Sometimes I feel Shelley and I

are connected in a way few people understand. Even when our parents

can't figure out what Shelley is trying to say, or why she's so

frustrated, I usually know.

That's why it devastated me when she pulled my hair. I never really

thought she'd do it to me.

But she did.

"I won't let them take you away," I say softly to my sleeping sister.

"I'll always protect you."

I ease myself off Shelley's bed. There is no way I can spend time

with Shelley without her suspecting I'm upset. So I get dressed and

leave the house before she wakes up.

I confided in Alex yesterday and the sky didn't fall. I actually felt

better after telling him about Shelley. If I can do it with Alex, surely

I can try it with Sierra and Darlene.

As I sit in front of Sierra's house in my car, my thoughts turn to

my life.

Nothing is going right. Senior year is supposed to be a blast--easy

and fun. So far it's been anything but. Colin is pressuring me, a guy in a

gang is more than my chemistry partner, and my parents are going to

send my sister far from Chicago. What else can go wrong?

I notice movement coming from Sierra's second-story window.

First legs, then a butt. Oh, God, it's Doug Thompson trying to jump to

the trellis.

Doug must see me, because Sierra's head pops out of the window.

She waves and motions for me to wait.

Doug's foot still hasn't reached the trellis. Sierra is holding onto

his hand to steady him. He finally reaches the thing, but the flowers

distract him and he falls, flinging his body in all directions. He's fine,

though, I realize after he gives Sierra a thumbs-up before jogging off.

I wonder if Colin would climb trellises for me.

Sierra's front door opens three minutes later and she steps out in

her underwear and tank top. "Brit, what are you doing here? It's seven

o'clock. In the morning. You do realize it's a teacher in-service and we

have no school."

"I know, but my life is spinning out of control."

"Come inside and we'll talk," she says, opening my car door. "I'm

freezing my butt off here. Oh, why don't the Chicago summers last

longer?"

Inside, I take off my shoes so I won't wake up her parents.

"Don't worry, they left for the health club an hour ago."

"Then why was Doug escaping out your window?"

Sierra winks. "You know, to keep the relationship exciting. Guys

love adventure."

I follow Sierra into her spacious bedroom. It's decorated in

fuchsia and apple green, the colors her mother's decorator picked out

for her. I plunk myself down on the extra bed as Sierra calls Darlene.

"Dar, come over. Brit's in crisis mode."

Darlene, in her pj's and slippers, arrives a few minutes later since

she lives only two houses down.

"Okay, spill," Sierra demands when we're all together.

Suddenly, with all eyes on me, I'm not so sure this sharing thing is

such a good idea. "It's not really anything."

Darlene straightens. "Listen, Brit. You got me out of bed at seven

a.m. Dish the dirt."

"Yeah," Sierra says. "We're your friends. If you can't share with

your friends, who can you share with?"

Alex Fuentes. But I'd never tell them that.

"Why don't we watch old movies," Sierra suggests. "If Audrey

Hepburn doesn't get you to spill your guts, nothing will."

Darlene groans. "I can't believe you got me up for a non-crisis and

old movies. You guys seriously need to get a life. The least you can do is

give me gossip. Anyone have any?"

Sierra leads us to the living room and we all sink into the cushions

on her parents' sofa. "I heard Samantha Jacoby was found kissing

someone in the custodian closet on Tuesday."

"Whoop-de-doo," Darlene says, totally unimpressed.

"Did I mention it was Chuck, one of the custodians?"

"Now that is good gossip, Sierra."

Is that how it's going to be if I share anything, turning my misery

into gossip for everyone to laugh about?

In Sierra's living room four hours, two movies, popcorn, and a tub

of Ben & Jerry's Confection Connection ice cream later, I'm feeling

better. Maybe it was Audrey Hepburn as Sabrina, but somehow I think

everything is possible. Which makes me think about . . .

"What do you guys think of Alex Fuentes?" I ask.

Sierra pops a piece of popcorn in her mouth. "What do you mean

'what do we think of him?'"

"I don't know," I say, unable to stop thinking about the intense,

undeniable attraction that is always between us. "He's my chemistry

partner."

"And . . . ?" Sierra urges, waving her hand in the air as if saying,

"So what's your point?"

I grab the remote control and pause the movie. "He's hot. Admit

it."

"Eww, Brit," Darlene says, pretending to stick her finger down her

throat and gagging.

Sierra says, "Okay, so I admit he's cute. But he's not someone I

would ever date. He's, you know, a gang member."

"Half the time he comes to school high," Darlene chimes in.

"I sit right next to him, Darlene, and I've never noticed him high at

school."

"Are you kidding, Brit? Alex does drugs before school, and in the

guys' bathroom when he ditches study hall. And I'm not just talking

about pot. He's into the hard stuff," Darlene states like it's fact.

"Have you seen him do drugs?" I challenge.

"Listen, Brit. I don't have to be in the room with him to know he

snorts or shoots up. Alex is dangerous. Besides, girls like us don't mix

with Latino Bloods."

I lean into the plush cushions of the couch. "Yeah, I know."

"Colin loves you," Sierra says, changing the subject.

Love, I sense, is a far cry from what Colin felt for me at the beach,

but I don't even want to go there.

Three times my mom tries to contact me. First on my cell, although

turning it off didn't deter her because she called Sierra's house twice.

"Your mom's coming over if you don't talk to her," Sierra says, the

phone dangling from her fingers.

"If she does, I'm leaving."

Sierra hands me the phone. "Me and Darlene are going outside so

you can have some privacy. I don't know what this is all about, but talk

to her."

I hold the phone to my ear. "Hello, Mother."

"Listen, Brittany, I know you're upset. We finalized the plans about

Shelley last night. I know it's hard on you, but she's been more and

more frustrated lately."

"Mom, she's twenty years old and gets upset when people can't

understand her. Don't you think that's normal?"

"You're going to college next year. It's not fair to keep her home

anymore. Stop being so selfish."

If Shelley is being sent away because I'm going to college, it is my

fault. "You're going to do this no matter how I feel about it, aren't

you?" I ask.

"Yes. It's a done deal."

TWENTY-SIX : Alex

When Brittany walks into Mrs. P.'s class on Friday I'm still thinking

about how I'm going to get back at her for throwing my keys into the

woods last weekend. It took me forty-five minutes to find the suckers,

and all the while I was cursing Brittany. Okay, so I give her props for

dishing it out. I also have her to thank for helping me talk about the

night of my papa's death. Because of it, I've called older OG's in the

Blood, asking them if they know who might have had a grudge against

my dad.

Brittany has been wary this whole week. She's waiting for me to

play a joke on her, to get her back for tossing my keys into the woods.

After school, as I'm at my locker picking books to take home, she

storms up to me wearing her sexy pom uniform.

"Meet me in the wrestling gym," she orders.

Now I can do two things: meet her like she told me to or leave the

school. I take my books and enter the small gym. Brittany is standing,

holding out her keychain without keys dangling from it.

"Where have my keys magically disappeared to?" she asks. "I'm

going to be late for the game if you don't tell me. Ms. Small will kick

me off the squad if I'm not at the game."

"I tossed them somewhere. You know, you should really get a purse

that has a zipper. You never know when someone will reach in and grab

somethin'."

"Glad to know you're a klepto. Wanna give me a hint as to where

you've hidden them?"

I lean against the wall of the wrestling gym, thinking about what

people would think if they caught us in here together. "It's in a place

that's wet. Really, really wet," I say, giving her a clue.

"The pool?"

I nod. "Creative, huh?"

She tries to push me into the wall. "Oh, I'm going to kill you. You

better go get them."

If I didn't know her better, I'd think she was flirting with me. I

think she likes this game we have going on.

"Mamacita, you should know me better than that. You're all on your

own, like I was when you left me in the library parking lot."

She cocks her head, gives me sad eyes, and pouts. I shouldn't

concentrate on her pouty lips, it's dangerous.

But I can't help it.

"Show me where they are, Alex. Please."

I let her sweat it out a minute before I give in. By now most of the

school is deserted. Half of the students are on their way to the

football game. The other half is glad they're not on their way to the

football game.

We walk to the pool. The lights are off, but sunlight is still shining

through the windows, Brittany's keys are where I threw 'em--in the

middle of the deep end. I point to the shiny pieces of silver under the

water. "There they are. Have at it."

Brittany stands with her hands on her short skirt, contemplating

how she's going to get them. She struts over to the long stick hanging

on the wall that's used to pull drowning people from the water. "Piece

of cake," she tells me.

But as she sticks the pole into the water, she finds out it's not a

piece of cake. I suppress a laugh as I stand at the edge of the pool and

watch her attempt the impossible.

"You can always strip and go in naked. I'll watch to make sure

nobody comes in."

She walks up to me, the pole gripped firmly in her fingers. "You'd

like that, wouldn't you?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, stating the obvious. "I have to warn you, though.

If you have granny undies on, you'll blow my fantasy."

"For your information, they're pink satin. As long as we're sharing

personal info, are you a boxers or briefs guy?"

"Neither. My boys go free, if you know what I mean." Okay, I don't

let my boys go free. She'll just have to figure that out herself.

"Gross, Alex."

"Don't knock it till you try it," I tell her, then walk toward the

door.

"You're leaving?"

"Uh . . . yeah."

"Aren't you going to help me get the keys?"

"Uh . . . nope." If I stay, I'll be tempted to ask her to ditch the

football game to be with me. I'm definitely not ready to hear the

answer to that question. Toying with her I can handle. Showing my true