Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez
Chapter Nineteen
Alex
Jasmine remained silent the entire trip. I went to speak to her a few times, but then decided that if she wanted to talk, she’d talk. The silence only contributes to my inner dialog. I want to know who hurt her, and why? What the deal is with Andrew, and if I asked her out to dinner, what would she say?
That last thought throws me off. Dinner? I don’t take chicks out to dinner, but I don’t think that way with Jasmine. My concern is what people would think of us, her clean, creamy skin, and me, with all my gang tattoos. They’d probably think that I was forcing her to be with me and she deserves better than that. Better than me.
The thought pisses me off. Why wouldn’t I be good enough for her? I used to be. I’m the same person I’ve always been on the inside. The notion drives me so insane that I turn to her and blurt out, “You want to have dinner with me?”
I can tell I’ve caught her off guard when she stops breathing and her body is tense when she looks at me. “I can’t.” She says, but the tone of her voice says differently.
“Why not?” I can’t help but dig myself deeper.
She looks down at her lap for the answer and refuses to meet my eyes when she finds her words. “Because I’m going to hang out with Andrew tonight and tomorrow.” Without her looking at me, it’s hard to decipher if her words are truthful.
“You’d rather hang out with that pendejo than me?” I’m offended.
Her face is straight when she finally looks up and says, “Yes, I would.”
She turns back around and continues looking out the window. What the fuck? She prefers to hang out with him more than me? What the hell is that about? Females always prefer my company over others. We were getting along, and I thought we were feeling a bit of the same thing, but it’s apparent that I’m completely wrong.
I mumble a string of Spanish and English curse words under my breath, sit back, and wait to get off this fucking plane. She’s pissed me off royally, wounding my pride. She wants to hang out with that douchebag, fine. She’ll not have to worry about me bothering her. I’ll do my own thing. We’ll see who comes running to who first because it sure as hell won’t be me.
Our conversation ceases until we’re off the plane. “Have a good night,” I tell her and walk away before she can say anything that will make me forgive her.
She remains silent, staring like a deer blinded by headlights before turning to get her luggage. She plays an excellent game, pushing people away when she realizes they’re getting too close. I recognize it because my game’s identical. She’s seeing the smiles she gives me, the genuine laughs, the friendship, and it scares the shit out of her. I know because I feel the same way.
When I’m away from her, I want to be near her, but when I’m close to her, she makes me feel again, which freaks me out. I want to push her away; convince myself that I’m fine without her, even though she’s the only thing I can think about every second of every day… it’s messed up. I make a mental note to get the boys together tonight and cause some trouble.
We check into the hotel, which is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed, hands down. The entire building is white. Inside, every surface is marble. The carpet has a retro, red, black, and white swirling pattern, which is almost enough to make you dizzy or have a seizure.
I wonder which one of my members I’ll room with; I couldn’t imagine they’d put me with anyone else. A room card for three-nineteen is in my hand and I head in that direction, following the golden plaques on the walls. I slide my card in the slot, hearing the electronic release when it pops the lock, and walk in.
Someone’s in the bathroom as I pass by. Whoever my new roommate is, is obviously not from my side of town, let alone in my gang. His preppy-ass luggage lay haphazardly across the bed next to the window. I already gave up my window view once today and I’m not doing it again.
The room is of average size. They mounted the TV to the wall; the DVD player and PlayStation are on a small stand below. The room has plenty of amenities, even though I couldn’t imagine staying indoors. The carpet is a solid red, accentuating the black curtains and bedspreads. A mini-fridge sits snuggled in the far corner, next to the enormous windows.
I toss all of preppy boy’s mierda onto the other bed and unpack my stuff, placing it all in the drawers next to the bed, when I hear the door to the bathroom click open.
I turn to see who I’m going to push around for the next week, and when I see Andrew’s face, I smirk. He’s the first person I want to mess with this week. By the way he’s staring, he wouldn’t mind me starting something, either.
“Why’d you move my shit?” He walks over to his stuff, doing a visual check to make sure none of his high-priced crap is missing. As if I’d want any of his garbage.
“I like the view.” I point to the ocean and beach.
Andrew stares me down, not blinking once. Instead of fighting, he turns and changes his clothes. I’m shocked. I thought it was going to go down and I’m a little disappointed that he decided against it.
After I unpack the rest of my stuff, I glance over at Andrew. He catches me watching him and he can’t help but comment.
He smirks. “See something you like?”
“You wish.” I shove my bag in the bottom drawer.
“I’m going out to dinner with Jasmine.” He’s fixing his shirt in the mirror, watching my reaction.
Keeping my face blank and unreadable, I play off his words. “Where’re you two heading?” I’m curious because seeing them together will unhinge me, drive me into a downward spiral that’ll inevitably end with me standing over Andrew’s bloody, unrecognizable face if he lays a finger on her.
I think I’m losing it.
“Some restaurant downtown. I guess they have authentic Hawaiian food.”
“We’re in Hawaii. It’s all authentic, cabrón.” He looks at me, puzzled, not realizing I called him a dumbass.
“Whatever. I’ve got to go… and stay out of my shit, Navarro.” He points his finger at me, like I’m a fucking toddler, and not someone seconds away from beating his ass.
I mimic shaking in my boots to piss him off. “I don’t want any of your shit, white boy.” I flop on the bed and flick the TV on.
He stares at me for a moment before walking out the door. I can’t believe Jasmine wants to hang out with that idiot. It surprises me he’s made it to his senior year. His parents probably paid for his grades.
I’m twenty minutes into wondering what Jasmine and Wonder Boy are doing when someone bangs on my door, like they’re the damn police. I jump up and pull the door open to find a few members of my gang.
“Que pasa, jefe?” Carlos asks.
“Nada, y tu?” I let them in.
“We’re going down to the beach to check out the babes. You want to come?” Carlos leans against the wall next to the bathroom.
“Do you even need to ask if I want to check out some fine nenas?” I click the TV off and change my shirt in a flash. I’ll do anything, as long as it gets my mind off Jasmine and her wonderful date. Occupying myself by hooking up with some hot tail here is just the medicine I need. The last sex I had was over a month ago… I could use the distraction.