Rules Of Attraction (29 page)

up. Rein in your attitude and ego tonight and treat Kiara like you would

a princess. Make her feel special.”

“You think I’ve got a big ego and an attitude problem?” I ask her.

She lets out a short laugh. “I don’t think you do, Carlos. I know it.

Unfortunately, it’s a Fuentes flaw.”

“I’d call it an asset. It’s what makes us Fuentes brothers

irresistible.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she says. “It’s what ruins your relationships. If

you want Kiara to have great memories of tonight, just remember what

I said and rein it in.”

“Did I ever tell you that Alex loves you so much he got your name

tattooed all over his body? Hell, he even got your name branded into

the back of his neck.”

“They say ‘LB,’ Carlos. The initials for Latino Blood.”

“No, no, no. You’ve got it all wrong. He wants everyone to think that,

but in reality it means Lover of Brittany. LB, get it?”

“Nice try, Carlos. Totally not true, but a nice try nonetheless.”

True to her word, Brittany drops me off at the shop and speeds

away. Her tires screech on the parking lot, something I’m sure my

brother taught her to do. It’s just more proof they should be together.

In the shop, my brother has his head under the hood of a Cadillac.

I wonder if he’s oblivious that his recent ex-girlfriend/love of his life

just sped away.

“What are you doin’ here?” Alex asks me as he wipes his hands on a

shop cloth. “I thought you were half dead.”

“You’d be surprised how far away half dead is from fully dead,

Alex. Actually I feel like shit, but am doin’ a helluva good job fakin’ it.”

“Uh-huh.” I notice he’s got a black bandanna on, something I haven’t

seen him wear since he was in the Latino Blood. It’s not a good sign. He

looks like a rebel, too much like me. I know firsthand when you take the

time to look like a rebel, actin’ like one isn’t far behind. “I’ve got a

bunch of work to do, and you’ve got a dance to get to, so if you don’t

mind—”

“Why did you break up with Brittany?”

“Is that what she told you?” Alex says, his eyebrows crinkling in

frustration and anger. Man, he’s pissed right now. From the ragged look

of him, I don’t think he’s slept well lately.

“Keep your pants on, bro,” I tell him. “She didn’t say anythin’. She

told me to ask you what happened.”

“We broke up. You were right, Carlos. Brit and I are too different.

We come from different worlds and it was never gonna work out.”

When he ducks his head under the hood again, I pull him back.

“Usted es estupido.”

“You callin’ me stupid? I’m not the one who unintentionally got

jumped in to a gang last Sunday.” He shakes his head. “Talk about

stupid.”

“I’ll tell you what, Alex. You tell me why you and the beauty queen

broke up, and I’ll tell you everythin’ I know ’bout Devlin.”

Alex sighs, the action deflating his anger a bit. I know he wants to

protect me and our family above all else. He knows next week I’m gonna

be called to action by Devlin. He can’t resist being involved in trying to

help get me out of this.

“Her parents are comin’ to town to visit her sister Shelley in two

weeks,” Alex says. “She wants to tell them we’ve been secretly dating

seriously since we started college. They know how it ended between us

back in Chicago. I was a total asshole to her, then I left.” He presses

his palms to his eyes and moans. “Look at me, Carlos. I’m still the same

guy they wouldn’t let her date back in Chicago. They think I’m the scum

of the earth, and they’re probably right. Brittany wants me to fuckin’

go to dinner with them, as if they’ll just accept that the girl they

groomed to be a princess ended up with the guy they’ll always see as

the poor, dirty Mexican from the slums.”

I can’t believe it. My own brother, the one who bravely fought his

own gang and wasn’t afraid to get shot for it, is shittin’ in his pants at

the prospect of standing up for himself and their relationship in front

of Brittany’s parents. “You’re afraid,” I tell him.

“Am not. I just don’t need the bullshit.”

The bullshit is that my brother is scared. He’s afraid of Brittany

agreeing with her parents once and for all and dumping his ass. Alex

can’t take her rejection, so he’s pushing her away and rejecting her

before she can do it to him. I know, because that’s the story of my own

life.

“Brittany wants to stick up for your relationship,” I say as I eye

Alex’s vintage Monte Carlo at the corner of the shop. “Why don’t you?

Because you’re a coward, bro. Have a little faith in your novia. If you

don’t, you’ll risk losin’ her for good.”

“Her parents will never think I’m good enough for her. I’ll always

feel like the lower-class pendejo who took advantage of their

daughter.”

I’m lucky Kiara’s parents are the opposite. They’re content when

their kids are happy, no matter what. They try and influence us, but

they don’t judge anyone. At first I thought it was an act, that nobody

could just accept me even when I try to push them away. I think the

Westfords really do accept people for who they are, flaws and all.

“If you think you’re the lower-class pendejo, then you are. Problem

is, Brittany doesn’t see different social classes or think of your bank

account when she’s with you. It’s kind of sickenin’, but she actually

loves you no matter what. Maybe you guys should break up, ’cause she

deserves a dude who’ll stick up for his relationship at all costs.”

“Fuck you,” Alex says. “You don’t know crap about relationships.

Since when have you even had one?”

“I’m in one now.”

“It’s fake. Even Kiara admitted it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than what you’ve got, which is nothin’.” I

walk over to the blue Monte Carlo. “Just so you know, I was hopin’ to

borrow your car tonight. Not for me, but for Kiara. I know you think

she’s cool, and I can’t very well use her car to take her on an official

date.”

“I was plannin’ on headin’ over to the Westfords’ before the dance.

They invited me.”

“Save yourself the trouble,” I say.

“Fine. But bring it back after the dance, ’cause I was plannin’ on

workin’ on it tomorrow.”

After I toss the suit and corsage in the backseat, Alex says, “I

thought you hated me and Brittany together.”

“I just like to give you shit, Alex. That’s what younger brothers are

for, aren’t they?” I shrug. “She might not be a chica Mexicana, but

she’s the best your ass is ever gonna get. Might as well seal the deal

and marry the girl.”

“With what, half a degree and a vintage car to offer?”

I shrug. “If that’s all you got, I’m sure she’ll take it. Hell, it’s a

helluva lot more than I got, and more than our parents had when they

got married. Even worse, ’cause mi'amá was pregnant with your ugly

ass.”

“Speakin’ of ugly, have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Yeah. It’s funny, Alex. Even with a busted lip and black eye, I’m

still better lookin’ than you.”

“Yeah, right. Wait,” Alex says. “You still never told me about

Devlin.”

“Oh, yeah.” I start the car and rev the engine. “I’ll tell you

tomorrow. Maybe.”

When I get to the Westfords’, Brandon is in my room sitting on my

bed with his his arms crossed. The kid is doing his best to put on a

mean face that might actually intimidate someone in ten or so years.

“What’s up, cachorro?”

“I’m mad at you.”

Man, I’m gettin’ heat from all sides today. “Take a number and get

in line, kid.”

He huffs like a car with a bad exhaust. “You said we were partners

in crime. That if I did something, you wouldn’t tattle. And if you did

something, I wouldn’t tattle.”

“So?”

“You’re a tattletale. Now Daddy won’t let me play games on the

computer unless he’s watching, like I’m a baby. It’s all your fault.”

“Sorry. Life isn’t fair.”

“Why not?”

If life was fair, my father wouldn’t have died when I was four. If

life was fair, I wouldn’t have to worry about Devlin. If life was fair, I’d

have a real chance with Kiara. Life pretty much sucks. “Don’t know. But

if you figure it out, cachorro, let me know.”

I expect him to throw a fit, but he doesn’t. He jumps off my bed

and heads for the door. “I’m still mad at you.”

“You’ll get over it. Now beat it. I’ve got to take a shower and get

ready. I’m runnin’ late.”

“I’ll get over it faster and leave you alone if you can sneak me some

candy from the cabinet above the refrigerator. It’s my mom’s secret

hiding place.” He motions for me to bend down so he can tell me a

secret. “She keeps unhealthy snacks in it,” he whispers. “You know, the

good kind.” The more he talks about it, the more excited he gets.

Damn. I have less than an hour before I have to be Kiara’s date, but I

don’t want to let the kid down. “All right, Racer. You ready to go on a

secret mission to find the treasure?”

Brandon rubs his hands together, obviously pleased with himself

for manipulating me. The kid does have talent in the persuasion

department, I’ll give him that much.

“Follow me.” I peek my head out the door, then wave him over. I

hide a laugh as he tiptoes toward me. Sometimes this kid acts like a

six-year-old, and sometimes he acts like someone who has more sense

than some adults I know.

We step down the stairs in silence. Before we reach the kitchen,

someone walks out of Westford’s office. It’s Kiara, wearing a long

black dress that hugs her delicious curves from her chest to her

thighs. Her hair is not only flowing down the front of her chest, the

ends have been carefully and perfectly curled. One of her long, lean

legs peeks out from the insanely sexy slit on the side.

I’m stunned.

I’m speechless.

My eyes roam over her, enjoying the view. I know I’ll remember

this moment for the rest of my life. When I look down at her sexy

open-toe pumps with a higher heel than I ever imagined her wearing,

my heart skips a beat. I’m afraid to blink for fear she’s a figment of

my imagination and will disappear.

“W-w-well, w-w-what d-d-do you think?”

Brandon gives her a loud, “Shh,” and puts a finger over his mouth.

“We’re on a secret mission,” he whispers loudly, oblivious that his sister

has transformed into a goddess. “Don’t tell Mom or Dad.”

“I won’t,” she whispers. “What are you on a mission for?”

“Candy. The unhealthy kind. Come on!”

I look back at Kiara, wishing we were alone right now. Really wishing

we were alone right now. “Brandon, go check where your dad is so we

know the coast is clear,” I tell him. I need a few minutes alone with his

sister.

“Okay,” he says, slithering out of the hall. “Be right back.”

I’ve got less than a minute alone with her. I shove my hands in my

pockets, to prevent me from showing my nervous, shaking hands. She

rewards me with a half smile, then looks at the ground.

I look up at the ceiling, wishing I could get some advice, or at least

a sign from my dad. I take another look at Kiara. Oh, man. She’s staring

right at me now, waiting for me to say something. Before I can come up

with a meaningful or funny remark, Brandon comes back.

“He’s in his den. Let’s do it before he catches us.”

I choked. I’ve got to get Brandon out of here. We all head for the

kitchen. I reach up and open the small cabinet door above the

refrigerator. Sure enough, there’s a big basket filled with contraband.

Brandon tugs on the bottom of my shirt. “Show me, show me.”

I put the basket on the table. Brandon steps on a kitchen chair and

checks out the loot. “Here,” he says, shoving a chocolate bar in my

hand. “They have nuts. I don’t like nuts.”

In the end, Brandon swipes one milk chocolate bar and two pieces

of licorice. Satisfied with his treasure, he hops off the chair.

I put the basket back in the secret hiding place that everyone

knows about. When I turn back around, Brandon is already breaking off

a piece of chocolate and shoving it in his mouth.

“Kiara, why do you look like a girl?” Brandon asks with a mouthful of

chocolate.

“I’m going on a date. With Carlos.”

“Are you gonna French-kiss him?”

Kiara gives him a scolding look. “Brandon! That’s totally not an

appropriate thing to ask. Who told you about that?”

“The fourth graders on the bus.”

“What did the fourth graders say it was?”

He gives her an exasperated look. “You know . . .”

“Tell me,” she says. “Maybe I don’t know.”

I have firsthand knowledge that she does know what French kissing

is, but I’m not giving her secret away.

“It’s when you lick the other person’s tongue,” he whispers.

Damn, the kid knows more than I did at his age. First he’s a cyber

drug dealer, now he’s talking about French kissing. Kiara looks to me,

but I hold my hands up. While I’d like nothing better than to French-

kiss her right now, I can wait until later. “He’s not my kid.”

“You can get a lot of germs that way,” he says as he munches away

and contemplates the consequences of French kissing.

“Absolutely,” Kiara agrees. “Right, Carlos?”