Perfect Chemistry 1 (27 page)

"What's so funny?"

"They're sayin' he pinned the bill close to her ass."

I study the couples on the dance floor and try to replicate their

moves as I get into the music. When the bride stops dancing, I ask

Alex if he's going to dance with her, too.

When he says yes, I push him forward. "Go dance with Elena. I'm

going to talk to your mom."

"You sure you want to do that?"

"Yeah. I saw her when we first walked in, and I don't want to

ignore her. Don't worry about me. I need to do this."

He takes a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet. I try not to notice, but

it's now empty. He's about to give all the money he has on him to the

bride. Can he afford it? I know he works at the auto body shop, but

the money he makes probably goes directly to his family.

I step back until our hands separate. "I'll be back soon."

At the row of tables where the women are setting out platters of

food, I walk up to Alex's mom. She's wearing a red wraparound dress

and looks younger than my mom. People think my mom is pretty, but

Mrs. Fuentes has the timeless beauty of a movie star. Her eyes are big

and brown, her eyelashes touch her eyebrows, and her skin is slightly

bronzed and flawless.

I tap her on the shoulder as she's setting the napkins on the table.

"Hi, Mrs. Fuentes," I say.

"Brittany, right?" she asks.

I nod. Re-introduction over, Brittany. Stop stalling. "Umm, I've

wanted to say something to you since I got here. And now seems like as

good a time as any, but now I seem to be rambling and not getting to

the point. I do this when I'm nervous."

The woman is looking at me like I have a screw loose. "Go on," she

urges.

"Yes, well, I know we got off on the wrong foot. And I'm sorry if

you felt disrespected in any way the last time we met. I just wanted

you to know that I didn't go to your house with the intention of kissing

Alex."

"Forgive me if I'm curious, but what are your intentions?"

"Excuse me?"

"What are your intentions with Alex?"

"I . . . I'm just not sure what you want me to say. To be honest,

we're figuring it out as we go along."

Mrs. Fuentes puts a hand on my shoulder. "The dear Lord knows

I'm not the best mother in the world. But I care about my sons more

than life itself, Brittany. And I'll do anything to protect them from

harm. I see the way he looks at you, and it scares me. I can't bear to

see him hurt one more time by someone he cares about."

Hearing Alex's mom talk about him makes me yearn for a mother

who cares and loves me as much as Alex's mom loves him.

Trying to swallow what Mrs. Fuentes said is close to impossible; her

words leave a lump the size of a golf ball in my throat.

The truth is, lately I don't even feel like a part of my own family.

I'm someone who is expected by my parents to do and say the right

things all the time. I've played the role for so long to help my parents

concentrate on Shelley, who truly needs their undivided attention.

It's so hard sometimes, trying desperately to make up for being

the ‘normal’ kid. Nobody told me I didn't have to be perfect all the

time. Truth is, my life is filled with never-ending, humongous amounts

of guilt.

Guilt for being the normal child.

Guilt for feeling that I have to make sure Shelley is loved as much

as I am.

Guilt for fearing that my own children might be like my sister.

Guilt for being embarrassed when people stare at Shelley in public

places.

It'll never stop. How can it when I was born with guilt right up to

my ears? To Mrs. Fuentes, family means love and protection. To me,

family equals guilt and conditional love.

"Mrs. Fuentes, I can't promise not to hurt Alex. But I can't stay

away from him, even if that's what you want. I already tried that."

Because being with Alex takes me away from my own darkness. I can

feel tears welling in the corners of my eyes and falling down my face. I

push my way through the crowd to find a bathroom.

Paco is walking out of the bathroom and I rush past him.

"You might want to wait before you--" Paco's voice fades as I close

the door, locking myself in. Wiping my eyes, I gaze into the mirror. I'm

a complete mess. My mascara is dripping and . . . oh, it's no use. I slide

down and sit on the cold tile floor. Now I realize what Paco was about

to tell me. The place stinks; it really reeks . . . almost to the point

where I want to throw up. I put my hand over my nose, trying to ignore

the offending smell as I think about Mrs. Fuentes's words.

I sit on the bathroom floor, wiping my eyes with toilet paper and

doing my best to cover my nose.

A loud knock interrupts my crying fit. "Brittany, you in there?"

Alex's voice comes through the door.

"No."

"Please come out."

"No."

"Then let me in."

"No."

"I want to teach you somethin' in Spanish."

"What?"

"No es gran cosa."

"What does it mean?" I ask, the tissue still on my face.

"I'll tell you if you let me in."

I turn the knob until it clicks.

Alex steps inside. "It means it's not a big deal." After locking the

door behind him, he crouches beside me and takes me in his arms,

pulling me close. Then he sniffs a few times. "Holy shit. Was Paco in

here?"

I nod.

He smoothes my hair and mutters something in Spanish. "What did

my mother say to you?"

I bury my face in his chest. "She was just being honest," I mumble

into his shirt.

A loud knock at the door interrupts us.

"Abre la puerta, soy Elena."

"Who's that?"

"The bride."

"Let me in!" Elena commands.

Alex unlocks the door. A vision in white ruffles with dozens of

dollar bills safety-pinned to the back of her dress squeezes her way

into the bathroom, then shuts the door behind her.

"Okay, what's goin' on?" She, too, sniffs a bunch of times. "Was

Paco in here?"

Alex and I nod.

"What the fuck does that guy eat that it comes out his other end

smelling so rotten? Dammit," she says, wadding up tissue and putting it

over her nose.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," I say through my own tissue. This is

the most awkward and surreal situation I've ever been in.

Elena grabs my hand. "Come outside and enjoy the party. My aunt

can be confrontational, but she doesn't mean any harm. Besides, I

think deep down she likes you."

"I'm taking her home," Alex says, playing the role of my hero. I

wonder when he'll get sick of it.

"No, you're not takin' her home or I'll lock both of you in this

stinkin' smelly room so you'll stay."

Elena means every word.

Another knock at the door. "Vete vete."

I don't know what Elena said, but she sure said it with gusto.

"Soy Jorge."

I shrug and look to Alex for an explanation.

"It's the groom," he says, clueing me in.

Jorge slips in. He isn't as crude as the rest of us because he

ignores the fact that the room smells like something died. But he

sniffs loudly a few times and his eyes start to water.

"Come on, Elena," Jorge says, trying to cover his nose

inconspicuously but doing a poor job of it. "Your guests are wondering

where you are."

"Can't you see I'm talkin' to my cousin and his date?"

"Yeah, but--"

Elena holds up a hand to silence him while holding the tissue over

her nose with the other. "I said, I'm talkin' to my cousin and his date,"

she declares with attitude. "And I'm not finished yet."

"You," Elena says, pointing directly at me. "Come with me. Alex, I

want you and your brothers to sing."

Alex shakes his head. "Elena, I don't think--"

Elena holds up a hand in front of Alex, silencing even him. "I didn't

ask you to think. I asked you to join your brothers in singin' to me and

my new husband."

Elena opens the door and yanks me through the house, stopping only

when we reach the backyard. She lets me go only to grab the

microphone from the lead singer.

"Paco!" she announces loudly. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to you," Elena says,

pointing to Paco talking to a bunch of girls. "Next time you want to take

a dump, do it in someone else's house."

Paco's entourage of girls backs up and giggles, leaving him alone.

Jorge rushes to the stage and attempts to pick up his wife. The

poor man struggles while everyone laughs and claps.

When Elena is finally off the stage and Alex talks to the band

leader, the guests cheer for Alex and his brothers to sing.

Paco sits next to me.

"Uh, sorry about the bathroom thing. I tried to warn you," he says

sheepishly.

"It's okay. I think Elena embarrassed you enough." I lean over to

Paco and ask, "Seriously, what do you think of Alex and me together?"

"Seriously, you're pro'bly the best thing that's ever happened to

the guy."

FORTY : Alex

After my dad died, our ma tried to cheer me, Carlos, and Luis with

music. We'd dance around the house, taking turns singing with her. I

think it was her way to forget her sorrow, at least for a little while. At

night I used to hear her sobbing in her room. I never opened the door,

but I itched to break into song and make all of her hurt go away.

I talk to the band before taking the microphone. "I wouldn't make

a fool out of myself by doin' this, but the Fuentes brothers can't

ignore this special request from the bride. Elena can be pretty

persuasive."

"Yeah, I know!" Jorge yells back.

Elena punches him in his arm. He winces. Elena knows how to land a

punch. Jorge kisses his bride, too happy to care.

My brothers and I start to sing. It isn't a serious song. We ad lib

songs by Enrique Iglesias, Shakira, and even my favorite, Mana. When I

crouch down to sing to my little cousins, I wink at Brittany.

That's when I notice a hush in the crowd and whispers of shock.

It's Hector. He made an appearance, which is rare. He winds his way

through the yard wearing an expensive suit while everyone stares at

him.

I finish the song and take my place at Brittany's side. I have an

urge to protect her.

"Want a smoke?" Paco asks me as he pulls Marlboros out of his

back pocket.

I briefly glance at Brittany before answering, "No."

Paco looks at me curiously, then shrugs and takes one for himself.

"Great singin', Alex. If you would've given me a few more minutes I'd

have your novia in the palm of my hand."

He called her my girl. Is she my girl?

I lead her to a cooler full of drinks, Paco in tow. I'm careful not to

steer her toward Hector.

Mario, a friend of one of my cousins, is standing over the cooler

sporting Python Trio gang colors and big, baggy jeans that hang off his

ass. The Python Trio are our allies, but if Brittany saw him on the

street, she'd probably run in the opposite direction.

"Hey Alex, Paco," Mario says.

"I see you dressed up for the wedding, Mario," I mutter.

"Cabron, monkey suits are for white guys," Mario says, ignoring the

fact that my date is in fact white. "You suburban gangstas are too soft.

In the city are the real broth'as."

"Okay, tough guy," Paco says with pure attitude. "Tell that to

Hector."

I glare at Mario. "Mario, you keep talkin' shit like that and I'll give

you firsthand proof of how tough we are . . never underestimate the

LB."

Mario backs up. "Well, I've got a date with a bottle of Corona.

Catch you later, guey."

"It looks like he's carryin' a load in those pants," Paco says, staring

at Mario from behind.

I look over at Brittany, who looks paler than she usually is. "You

okay?"

"You threatened that guy," she whispers. "I mean, seriously

threatened him."

Instead of answering her, I take her hand and lead her to the edge

of the makeshift dance floor, which is really a section of grass. Slow

music is playing.

When I pull her close, she backs away. "What are you doing?"

"Dance with me," I order. "Don't argue with me. Put your arms

around me and dance." I don't want to hear about how I'm in a gang,

and how it scares her, and how she wants me to be out of the gang in

order for her to date me.

"But--"

"Don't think about what I said to Mario," I say close to her ear.

"He was feelin' us out, checkin' how loyal we are to Hector. If he

senses any dissension, his gang might take advantage. You see, all gangs

are separated into Folks or People. Every gang is affiliated with one or

the other, and those affiliated with Folks are rivals with those

affiliated with People. Mario is affiliated--"

"Alex," she interrupts.

"Yeah."

"Assure me nothing's going to happen to you."

I can't. "Just dance," I say quietly as I guide her arms around me

and we dance.

Looking over Brittany, I see Hector and my mother in an intense

conversation. I wonder what they're talking about. She starts walking

away from him, until he grabs her arm and pulls her back and says

something in her ear. Just when I'm about to stop dancing to find out