Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Ten

Jasmine

 

 

Alex missed the second day of school.

The second day!

Rumors are circling the halls: that he’s strung out, eloped with a girl he’s been dating, and that he’s back in jail. We’ve been estranged for a long time, but none of these speculations ring true. Even being in jail. While I know he was literally just sentenced to his senior year, I don’t think he’ll risk his freedom. No one wants to be a caged animal.

During biology, where only my partner is absent, the teacher assigns a project due three days after our trip from Hawaii, so either we have to bust this thing out before we leave, or do a rush job when we return. If I want to have any hope of graduating early, we’ll have to do the project before we leave. I refuse to turn in a half-assed project.

I’m irritated. How could Alex miss the second day of school? I mean, really. Even I made it to day two, and I got more shit yesterday than he did. Well, maybe before I said the worst thing I could have ever said to him.

I need to say I’m sorry—words that were always wasted on me, but I can’t think of a better way to express my regret. Maybe that’s what everyone else thought too when they said them to me—maybe they couldn’t think of anything else to say either.

I decide before the last bell rings… I’m going to his house. I know the neighborhood is bad, but I’ve been there a few times. Yes, those were drive-bys, and I didn’t get out of the car, but I could do this. The neighborhood couldn’t be that bad, could it?

I rush to my car, the 67 mustang my dad and brother restored together. Jace named it Blue Lightning, after its color, and now it’s a small piece of them both that I can cherish.

Alex’s place isn’t too far, and I’m both nervous and excited at the prospect of him being home. Anxiety is crawling across my skin, thinking about seeing him again. When I arrive, I have to park across the street because there are too many cars around his house to get a closer spot. Surveying the area, I notice people lingering outside on nearby porches. They’re all conversing together, seeming a part of the same group.

A deep breath in, then out, steadying myself to exit the car. The neighboring house has already taken notice, tapping their friends with the back of their hands, and pointing in my direction.

Opening my door, I hurry out before I lose my nerve. Once my door closes, I hit the remote lock and set the alarm. As soon as I step away from the car, the catcalls begin.

“Hey, baby. Usted es caliente. Venir aquí!”

I walk with my head down, trying to ignore them. The language barrier ratches up my concern, knowing that they’re jeering me, but not understanding what they’re saying. With the distraction, I’m not watching my immediate surroundings, allowing three guys to intercept me before I can reach the safety of Alex’s porch.

“Nice car, mamacita. You need me to teach you how to handle her?” The tallest of the three asks.

Tattoos cover their bodies; two look older than me, but only by a couple of years. The other I recognize from school, but he acts as if we’re strangers.

“No, thank you.” I offer politely, hoping they’ll walk away.

“Oh, querida, you have a sexy voice,” another one says next to my ear, causing a small amount of panic to seize my chest. “And by the looks of it, you have a lot more that’s sexy about you too.” Their eyes are devouring me, as if I’m their main course and they’re a pack of hungry wolves.

“Why don’t you give us a taste?” The one from school circles, placing his hard body against my backside. He pulls me flush against him by the hips, making sure his hard length nestles between my cheeks. He’s so close that his breath is blowing hair across my neck, sending an electric jolt of warning dancing along my skin.

The only thing I can do is close my eyes. Fear is growing by the second. If I cry out, who will help me? If I run, they’ll only give chase. As far as I can see, my only option is to cooperate, and hope they decide I’m not worth it and walk away. My body’s bold status is failing, their intimidation is making me shake uncontrollably. But letting them touch me isn’t an option I can accept, so with another deep breath I open my eyes, preparing to fight my way out of this. His hand creeps up from my hip, gliding along my waist, and then toward my breast. When he’s almost there, I ready myself to stomp his foot, and elbow his gut, but a fist flies by and slams into the guy’s face, nearly clipping me. A slew of angry words accompany the blow.

“Qué chingados?” Alex’s voice is so angry that I flinch.

Alex knocks our classmate out with one punch, leaving him lying on the ground, his eye already turning purple as he steps in front of me, shielding me with his body, and glares daggers at the two remaining brutes.

“Sorry, Alex, we didn’t know she was with you.”

They’re both visibly scared. Their stares wander between Alex and their friend on the ground, probably thinking that they’re about to receive the same treatment for being complete assholes. I also wondered if the guy on the ground should go to a hospital.

The expression on Alex’s face is an unspoken warning. They collect their friend without further conversation and drag him by his arms and legs back to the house they came from.

Alex turns to me, his eyes blazing. “What are you doing here?” His voice expresses more than anger. He seems… worried?

“You were gone.” I squeak, my voice cracking around the words. My body is still shaking and tears sting my eyes… the start of a breakdown. I cannot do this, not here! Not in front of him, but what just happened scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

He glances around, noticing people are staring at us, and takes hold of my hand, leading me into his house. I follow in a trance. My knees tremble as we climb the stairs.

He helps me to the couch, and he brushes a stray hair out of my face. “You’re all right now. It’ll be okay. No one will touch you; I promise.”

He remains quiet, letting me collect myself, understanding what it means for me to cry in front of him.

A moment of weakness.

Once my breathing calms, I take in the small living space for the first time. The living room is quaint and homey, with the kitchen splitting off to the side. The smell is remarkable, just like I remember… spices, tortillas, and the smell of a nice, home-cooked Mexican meal. It’s been ages since I’ve eaten an authentic cooked meal. I guess some things never change. A small smile plays on my lips as I close my eyes and breathe deeply, letting the smell invade my memories.

When I open my eyes, Alex is watching me. “Are you all right?” Concern darkens his features.

“I am now,” I whisper.

The earlier events outside are their own kind of hell, but I would go through it again to get to Alex. This situation is beyond explaining, but his home feels safe… he feels safe. He’s the only person who understands what I’ve gone through because he’s gone through it, too.

He leans closer, forcing me to meet his chocolate depths. “You still didn’t answer me, mujer. What are you doing here?”

I gather my thoughts and try to focus. I can’t think when he’s this close. “We have a project.” I hear myself say. I can’t admit that I just wanted to see him. “You weren’t at school today, and we need to start on it before we leave. I need a good grade so I can graduate early.” And because I’m pathetic and practically a stalker.

Studying me, he asks, “What’s this project?” His deep, husky voice makes my body shiver involuntarily.

“Um… we have to collect edible plants in one of the approved areas around the school. Identify them, and then for extra credit, we can make an entrée out of them.”

He leans closer, as if that’s even possible, and whispers in my ear, “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?”

Alex has confidence he never used to possess, so sure of himself. I’m not an idiot. I can see what he’s doing. He knows he’s good-looking, and he’s trying to use it to his advantage.

Well, it will not work on me… or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

“I don’t,” I lie, but his reaction is satisfying as his eyes flash with a hint of darkness. “I also wanted to, um… I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I should never have said that about your dad because I didn’t mean it—not a word of it. It’s easier to stay away from you. Being around you brings up memories I would rather forget. I thought that if I could avoid you, that I wouldn’t have to deal with the past.”

Shit! Diarrhea of the mouth.

Panic seizes me, constricting my lungs. Run! Run! My entire being is screaming for me to get away.

He calmly watches my wide-eyed, panicked expression. “I understand what you mean. I have to admit, I was avoiding you for the same reasons. A lot of good that’s done.” Then he surprises me by laughing, and I find myself laughing with him—something I haven’t truly done since Jace.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him again once our laughter dies down. He needs to understand how much I regret saying those words. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. He’s not the person who made me angry.

“Apology accepted,” he says. “Now, do you want to talk about this project?”

I remain silent, caught up in devouring every inch of him. His appearance couldn’t look any different and he’s much rougher around the edges, but to me, he’s still the same friendly Alex. But, as a bonus, he’s much more tempting.

“Yeah, sure. I’m not in any hurry to get back out there.” I gesture towards the door, wondering how long it’ll take me to regain my courage.

Alex’s face turns to stone, remembering what occurred. “Next time, you need to call me first so I can meet you. I never want you to be outside alone again, comprende?” He says. When he realizes I don’t understand, he speaks in English, “Understand?”

“Yes,” I assure him, a little too breathlessly.

All my brain keeps repeating is, next time? Is there going to be a next time? Would I be at his house again? Excitement is screaming through my veins; a hard emotion to ignore. I don’t want to have these feelings for him because he reminds me too much of the past. I want to put the accident behind me, but it seems impossible to do that with Alex Navarro in my face constantly… Next time.

“Good.” He slouches down on the couch. “Have you chosen an area?” Our proximity is closer than expected, but neither of us attempts to move away.

“I did. Down by the river. There’re more plants to work with there, and here’s a list of the edible ones that grow in the area.” I hand him the folded piece of paper I’ve had in my back pocket since biology.

When he reaches out to take it, an inflamed gash on his arm peeks out of his shirt. Staples line an angry cut like shoelaces. My eyes go wide when I see it and search for his expression.

“Construction work. Got caught up on some wood.”

“Oh, Alex.” My hand unconsciously reaches out to comfort him before I realize what I’m doing, and I retract my hand with a start.

He ignores my blunder and changes the subject, which raises the suspicion that the actual cause isn’t construction. “When do we need to start the project?”

“Tomorrow, after school, would work for me. What about you?”

He answers with a straight face, “I can move some things around… tomorrow should be fine.”