Perfect Chemistry 1 (34 page)

me together from the beginning."

"That's not true, Brit. I didn't tell you this, but he's actually a nice

guy when he loosens up. I had fun the day we all went to Lake Geneva.

Doug did, too, and even said Alex was cool to hang with. I don't know

what happened between the two of you, but either forget about him, or

give him everything you've got in your arsenal."

"Is that what you do with Doug?"

She smiles. "Sometimes Doug needs a wake-up call. When our

relationship starts getting comfortable, I do something to switch it up.

Don't interpret my advice as an excuse to go after Alex. But if he's

what you really want, well, then, who am I to tell you not to go for it? I

hate seeing you sad, Brit."

"Was I happy with Alex?"

"Obsessed is more like it. But yeah, I saw you happy. Happier than

you've been in a really, really long time. With someone you like that

much, the lows are as low as the highs are high. Does that make

sense?"

"It does. It also makes me sound bipolar."

"Love will do that to a person."

FIFTY : Alex

I'm eating breakfast the morning after Brittany's warehouse visit

when I glimpse a shaved head peeking through my front door.

"Paco, if that's you I'd stay the hell away from me," I call out.

Mi'ama slaps me on the back of my head. "That's no way to treat

your friends, Alejandro."

I go back to eating while she opens the door for that. . . traitor.

"You're not still mad at me, Alex," Paco says, "are you?"

"Of course he's not mad at you, Paco. Now sit down and eat. I've

made some chorizo con huevos."

Paco has the gall to pat me on the shoulder. "I forgive you, man."

I look up then, first at mi'ama to make sure she isn't paying

attention, then at Paco. "You forgive me?"

"You've got yourself a real fat lip, Paco," she says, examining the

damage I'd done to it.

Paco touches his lip lightly. "Yeah, I fell onto a fist. You know how

it is."

"No, I don't. You fall onto too many fists you're going to end up in

the hospital one day," she warns, shaking her finger at him. "Well, I'm

going to work. And Paco, keep away from fists today, si? Lock up

before you go out, Alejandro, porfis. . . ."

I glare at Paco.

"What?"

"You know what. How could you have brought Brittany to the

warehouse?"

"I'm sorry," Paco says as he chows down on our food.

"No, you're not."

"Okay, you're right. I'm not."

I watch in disgust as he uses his fingers to scoop food up and shove

it into his mouth.

"I don't know why I put up with you," I say.

"So what happened with you and Brittany last night?" Paco asks

while following me outside.

My breakfast is threatening to come up, and it's not due to Paco's

eating habits. I grab his collar. "It's over between Brittany and me. I

don't even want to hear her name again."

"Speak of the devil," he says, craning his neck. I release Paco and

turn around, expecting to see Brittany. But she isn't there and the

next thing I know Paco's fist is in my face.

"Now we're even. And boy, have you got it bad for Miss Ellis if

you're threatenin' me if I use her name. I know you could kill me with

your two hands," Paco says, "but I got to admit. . I don't think you'd do

it."

As I test my jaw, I taste blood. "I wouldn't be too sure of that.

Tell you what. I won't kick your ass if you stop interferin' in my life.

That means with Hector and Miss Ellis."

"I got to tell ya, interferin' in your life is what keeps me goin'.

Hell, even the beatin' my old man gave me last night when he was shit-

faced drunk doesn't give me as much entertainment as your life."

I lower my head. "I'm sorry, Paco. I shouldn't have hit you. You get

it enough from your old man."

Paco murmurs a "don't sweat it."

Last night was the first time I've regretted using my fists on

anyone. Paco has gotten beat up so many times by his old man, he

probably has permanent scars on his body. I'm a complete asshole for

hitting him. In a way I'm glad it's over between me and Brittany. I'm

unable to control my feelings or emotions when she's near.

My only hope is that outside of chemistry I can avoid her. Yeah,

right. Even if she's not with me, thoughts of her are always in my head.

One good thing about my breakup with Brittany--it's given me time

these last two weeks to think about my father's murder. The night is

starting to come back to me in flashes. Something doesn't fit, but I

can't figure it out. My dad smiled, talked, and was shocked and nervous

when the gun was pulled on him. Shouldn't he have been wary all along?

Tonight is Halloween, the night Hector chose for the drug deal to

go down. All day I've been restless. I've worked on seven cars today,

from giving an oil change to replacing worn-out, leaky gaskets.

I left Hector's gun in my bedroom drawer, not wanting to pack

heat until I absolutely have to. Which is actually stupid because this

will be the first of many drug deals I'll be doing in my lifetime.

You're like your old man. I shrug off the voice inside my head

that's been plaguing me all day. Como el Viejo.

I can't help it. I remember all the times my papa said ‘Somos

cuates, Alejandro. You and me are the closest.’

He always spoke Spanish, as if he was still in Mexico. ‘Someday you

gonna be strong like your padre?’ he'd ask in Spanish. I always looked

up to my father as if he was a deity. Claro, Papa. I want to be like you.

My father never said to me I could be better or do better than

him. But tonight I'll prove I'm a carbon copy of my old man. I tried to

be different by telling Carlos and Luis they can have a different path.

I'm an idiot to think I've been a role model to them.

My thoughts drift to Brittany. I've tried to forget Brittany will be

going with someone else to the Halloween dance. I heard she was going

with her old boyfriend. I try to push out of my mind the fact that

another guy will have his hands on her.

Her date will kiss her tonight, I'm sure of it. Who wouldn't want to

kiss those sweet, soft, frosted lips?

I'm going to work tonight until I have to leave for the deal.

Because if I was home alone, I'd go nuts thinking about everything.

My grip on the riveter in my hand loosens and it drops smack in the

middle of my forehead. I don't get pissed off at myself, I blame

Brittany. And by eight o'clock I'm as angry as anything with my little

chem partner, whether it's warranted or not.

FIFTY-ONE : Brittany

I'm standing in front of Enrique's Auto Body, doing deep-breathing

exercises to keep from being nervous.

Enrique's Camry is nowhere in sight, so I know Alex is alone.

I'm going to seduce Alex.

If what I'm wearing doesn't capture his attention, nothing will. I'm

giving this my all. . . bringing out all the artillery. I rap on the door,

then close my eyes tight and pray this goes as planned.

I open my long, silver satin jacket and the cool night air rushes

onto my exposed skin. When the creak of the door alerts me to Alex's

presence, I slowly open my eyes. But it's not Alex's black eyes staring

at my scantily clad body. It's Enrique--who's staring at my pink lace

bra and pom-pom skirt as if he's won the lottery.

Ripped with embarrassment, I wrap my coat around myself. If I

could wrap it around twice, I would.

"Uh, Alex," Enrique laughs. "There's a trick-or-treater here to see

you."

My face is probably beet red, but I'm determined to see this

through. I'm here to show Alex I'm not going to desert him.

"Who is it?" comes Alex's voice from somewhere inside the garage.

"I was just leavin'," Enrique says, slipping past me. "Tell Alex to

lock up. Adios."

Enrique walks across the darkened street, humming to himself.

"Yo, Enrique. ;Quien esta ahi?" Alex's voice fades when he reaches

the front of the shop. He looks at me with contempt. "Need directions

or your car fixed?"

"None of the above," I say.

"Trick-or-treatin' on my side of town?"

"No."

"It's over, mujer. ;Me oyes? Why do you keep droppin' into my life

and fuckin' with my head? Besides, aren't you supposed to be at the

Halloween dance with some college guy?"

"I blew him off. Can we talk?"

"Listen, I've got a shitload of work that still needs to get done.

What did you come here for? And where's Enrique?"

"He, uh, left," I say nervously. "I think I scared him away."

"You? I don't think so."

"I showed him what I was wearing under my coat."

Alex's eyebrows shoot up.

"Let me in before I freeze out here. Please." I look behind me. The

darkness seems inviting right now as my blood pumps harder. Pulling the

coat tighter around me, my skin puckers with goose bumps. I shiver.

Sighing, he leads me into the body shop and locks the door. There's

a space heater in the middle of the shop, thank goodness. I stand by it

and rub my hands together.

"Listen, truth is I'm glad you're here. But didn't we break up?"

"I want to give us another try. Pretending we're just chemistry

partners in class has been torture. I miss you. Don't you miss me?"

He looks skeptical. His head is cocked to the side, as if he's not

quite sure he's hearing correctly. "You know I'm still in the Blood."

"I know. I'll take whatever you can give me, Alex."

"I'll never be able to meet your expectations."

"What if I tell you I won't have any expectations?"

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I can tell he's

thinking hard about this, because his expression turns serious. "I'll tell

you what," he says. "You keep me company while I finish my dinner. I

won't even ask you what you have . . or don't have . . . under that coat.

Deal?"

I smile tentatively and smooth down my hair. "Deal."

"You don't have to do that for me," he says, gently taking my hand

away from my hair. "I'll get a blanket so you don't get dirty."

I wait until he pulls a clean light green fleece blanket out of a

closet.

We sit on the blanket and Alex looks at his watch. "Want some?"

he asks, pointing to his dinner.

Maybe eating will calm my nerves. "What is it?"

"Enchiladas. Mi'ama makes kick-ass enchiladas." He stabs a small

portion with a fork and holds it out to me. "If you're not used to this

kind of spicy food--"

"I love spicy," I interrupt, taking it into my mouth. I start chewing,

enjoying the blend of flavors. But when I swallow, my tongue slowly

catches on fire. Somewhere behind all the fire there's flavor, but the

flames are in the way.

"Hot," is all I can say as I attempt to swallow.

"I told you." Alex holds out the cup he'd been drinking from. "Here,

drink. Milk usually does the trick, but I only have water."

I grab the cup. The liquid cools my tongue, but when I finish the

water it's as if someone stokes it again.

"Water . . . ," I say.

He fills another cup. "Here, drink more, though I don't think it'll

help much. It'll subside soon."

Instead of drinking it this time, I stick my tongue in the cold liquid

and keep it there. Ahhh . . .

"You okay?"

"To I wook otay?" I ask.

"With your tongue in the water like that, actually, it's erotic. Want

another bite?" he asks mischievously, acting like the Alex I know.

"Mo mank ooh."

"Your tongue still burnin'?"

I lift my tongue from the water. "It feels like a million soccer

players are stomping on it with their cleats."

"Ouch," he says, laughing. "You know, I heard once that kissin'

reduces the fire."

"Is that your cheap way of telling me you want to kiss me?"

He looks into my eyes, his dark gaze capturing mine. "Querida, I

always want to kiss you."

"I'm afraid it won't be that easy, Alex. I want answers. Answers

first, then kissing."

"Is that why you came here naked underneath that jacket?"

"Who says I'm naked underneath?" I say, leaning close.

Alex sets down his plate.

If my mouth is still burning, I hardly notice. Now is my time to get

the upper hand. "Let's play a game, Alex. I call it Ask a Question, Then

Strip. Every time you ask a question, you have to remove an article of

clothing. Every time I ask, I have to remove one."

"I figure I can ask seven questions, querida. How many you got?"

"Take it off, Alex. You asked your first question."

He nods in agreement and kicks off his shoe.

"Why don't you start with your shirt?" I ask.

"You do realize you asked a question. I think that's your cue--"

"I did not ask a question," I insist.

"You asked me why I don't start with my shirt." He grins.

My pulse quickens. I pull down my pom skirt, keeping my long jacket

tightly closed. "Now it's four."

He's trying to stay aloof, but his eyes show a hunger I've seen

before. And that silly grin is definitely gone as he licks his lips.

"I need a cigarette bad. It's too bad I quit again. Four you say?"

"That sounded suspiciously like a question, Alex."

He shakes his head. "No, smart-ass, that wasn't a question. Nice