2. Creed Santiago
Sophomore Year of High School
My mom looks at me, worry etched across her beautiful face. “Mi Hijo, are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Her Spanish accent peeks through the broken English she has worked constantly to learn. I step up to her short frame, wrap my arms around her, and pull her into a hug.
“Ma, I have to do this. I wasn’t getting anywhere with my last school. The academic leadership was failing us all when it came to teaching. My future counts on me graduating and getting into a good college, so that I can take care of you and help with dad’s medical bills.”
My voice comes out more exhausted than I would like for her to hear, but we have been at this constantly.
I wasn’t Spanish enough for the Hispanics, and I’m not white enough for the Caucasians.
She feared I would get picked on for being different because I have a Mexican mother and a white father. I was in a group barely being accepted by anyone but the rejects, which didn’t bother me.
I didn’t care about being popular or liked, I just needed to graduate so I could help pay for my father’s medical bills from his cancer treatments.
He made me promise I would not let Ma go into debt, and I’ll be damned to deny my dying father’s wishes.
Over the last few years, I’ve witnessed him go through countless tests and many rounds of chemotherapy.
But no matter how much I’ve prayed to whoever would listen, he hasn’t gotten better.
His doctor told us he only has four to five months left with us, and the only thing I can do to help is make sure he is comfortable.
“I’ve gotta go, ma, te amo mucho,”
I say, leaning down, pecking her head softly as I step away, leaving the house to catch the city bus to school.
Once on the bus, I looked around for an empty seat and noticed a beautiful girl around my age sitting by herself. Mentally hyping myself up, I make my way to where she is, praying I don’t make a fool out of myself.
“Is this seat taken?”
I ask softly. My hand, clutching the strap on my shoulder, grows sweaty as I anxiously await a response. Slowly, she reached up and pulled one of her headphones out of her ear.
“What? Is this your seat or something?”
She says as her lip turns up into a vicious snarl. Causing a group of small girls to giggle behind her.
Their blonde bob haircuts bounce around their shoulders as they shake their heads and lean up to whisper to the girl in front of me. Her face turns a deep red with shame.
“Oh shit, yeah, you can sit here.”
She says, motioning to the empty seat next to her with her free head.
“I’m sorry if I came off rude. The guy before you tried to force me to the back because of something between my legs. Stupid sexist pig.”
She grumbles the last part with such venom it could kill a cow.
“No, you can sit anywhere. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that already this morning. If I’m assuming correctly, you’re headed to the high school, right?”
She nods softly at my assessment, and I mentally clap myself on the back for being right about her being near my age, maybe older. She could be a senior .
“Well, I’m Credenza Santiago. But my family and friends call me Creed or Reed.”
I smile politely back at her, extending my hand in her direction to shake. She looks from my hand to my face and takes it in hers.
“I’m Soren Flint. But I go by Sor or Ren.”
She smiles, and it’s so blinding with how truly beautiful she is when she does.
“So, Ren, do you go to North Hazelton?”
She looks at me, taken slightly back from the question, like she’s not wearing the uniform with the Crest above her breast.
“Uh, yeah, I’m a sophomore.”
She says, tilting her head, as her eyes finally take in my outfit that matches in color. Her eyes widen slightly as she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“What about you? I haven’t seen you around the hallways.”
She asks, tilting her head to the side, her eyes roaming my face and body openly.
“That would be because I’m new. I just transferred from Vincent’s High.”
I answer with a smile, chuckling softly at her obvious observation.
“Well, welcome to the cesspool that will be your prison for the next two years.”
She chuckles softly, nudging my arm with her tiny elbow. “I hope it’s better than Vincent’s, though. I’ve heard so many horror stories about that school.”
She shivers at the thought, and I can’t fault her.
St Vincent’s is a part of the wrong side of town where you are a gang member, or you’re knocked up by a gang member.
That’s about it, no in-between.
The teachers are so far into the gang lifestyles that they barely give teaching any thought.
It’s all one big cover-up for something darker. That’s why I had to get out of there.
I would never tell Ma about the threats in my life, and theirs, all because I refused to jump into the gang, and they couldn’t let a non-gang member roam the hallways witnessing all the debauchery.
I also really need to get into a good college so I can secure a good job to take care of her when Dad dies.
“I can survive just about anything. I’m not there to make friends, just to graduate and get into a good college.”
I say. “My Ma needs me,”
I add in a whisper. But she must have heard me because she grabbed my hand, softly squeezing it in hers with a knowing look on her face.
She leans in so that her lips brush the lobe of my ear as she whispers a soft reply, “I also have people counting on me to get us out of here, so I understand.”
With that, she leans back, her hand still resting on mine without a plan to move it.
Not wanting to draw too much attention to us still being connected, I stay still and only offer a sad smile back.
The thought of this beautiful creature having demons she wants to escape from makes me want to pull her against me and protect her from the Boogeyman that’s hiding in the darkest corners, ready to snatch her and sell her to the highest bidder.
Something I’ve seen far too many times at St Vincent’s with the girls who refused to bow, or the boys that refused to break.
It’s something that would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t escaped that hell hole.
I would’ve become another statistic, a Hispanic boy lost and disregarded like the dirt on the bottom of their shoe.
For the next thirty minutes, we sit and wait for the bus to arrive at the iron gates of my new school.
I withdraw my hand from hers, already longing for its warmth.
My gentle, genuine smile was directed at the girl, unaware that she would become the object of my unwavering fascination.
There was something about her I couldn’t let go of.
“I hope to see you around, Ren.”
I wave a quick goodbye, turning on my heels and practically rushing through the crowd of others exiting the bus.
“You too, Reed!”
she yells back, but I’m already stepping out of the bus to put the much-needed distance between us.
Danger only lurks in the distraction of a beautiful girl like her, and as we both said, we have people counting on us, so it’s something we cannot afford.
With the weight of everything resting on my shoulders, I grip the strap of my book bag tighter.
Silent prayers leave my lips as I step forward, to the future that would ultimately change everything.
If only I knew how much, I would've turned around and begged her to stay by my side, to offer me the strength I would need to survive the heartbreak that would soon follow a year and a half later.