Chapter 3
SELENA
“James House or Gibson Place?” Jess asks.
Given that Samuel and his teammates live at Gibson Place, I’d rather not go looking for a guy to fulfill my sexual fantasies there. Sure, most of my brother’s friends are cute, but no, thank you.
“James House,” I reply as she and I hop in my car.
We could walk to James House—where the majority of the basketball team lives—but it’s on the opposite side of campus and I don’t want to show up all sweaty.
“Is Letty meeting us there?” Jess asks after getting comfortable in the front passenger seat.
Letty’s my coworker and the first friend I made at Tower Lake. “No, she couldn’t find anyone to cover her shift.”
“That sucks.”
“She gave me some great advice though. Yelled it across the cafe as I was leaving,” I smirk.
“Oh, no,” Jess laughs. “What did she say?!”
“‘BYOC!’ she yelled. I made the mistake of stopping at the door wondering what she meant.”
“And?”
“Bring your own condoms!”
“She didn’t!”
“Dude, every single person turned to stare at me! ‘Better get the variety pack! They’re never as big as they claim!’ she added as I’m walking out the door!”
Jess is giggling and eventually so am I. “She’s not wrong.”
“So you’re telling me all my books are lying?” I ask when we stop at a red light.
“Mira guey, dicks are like, hmm...like hands,” she says as she reapplies lipstick in the lighted mirror on the sun visor. “They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. But none of that matters if they don’t know how to use ‘em.”
I guess that makes sense, but I might be getting ahead of myself. “Okay, so what’s the plan tonight?” is my next question.
“No plan, Sel. What happens, happens. Did I tell you I had a dream about Sammy?”
“Is this something a sister wants to hear about her brother?”
Jess has been in love with Sammy since middle school. Back then she used to say they were end game. In every notebook she’d write: Jessica Alexander-Ochoa + Samuel Alvarez, with little hearts all over their names.
Unfortunately, he only sees her as a little sister. Even called her that once when we were all still in high school, after which Jess cried and cried in my room for hours.
I offered to talk to my clueless little brother, whose title of ‘little brother’ I use to annoy him. He’s been taller than me since I was sixteen and he turned fifteen. Anyway, Jess swears she’s over it.
“I’ll just say he was a dumbass in my dream.”
“He’s that is real life too!” I agree and she giggles.
I love my brother, but he’s oblivious. Mamá says she was the same way.
Even after weeks of hints, she didn’t realize Papá was interested in her until the day he wrote her a letter and literally spelled it out for her on paper.
I wonder if Jess ever admits to liking Sammy again, if she’ll need to write him a letter too?
Sometimes I wish I possessed that level of obliviousness. Then, I wouldn’t overthink everything.
The light changes and we move with the other cars. Since it’s Friday night, traffic is pretty bad.
“By the way, thank you for breakfast yesterday,” Jess says. “Uh…what’s his face said to thank you too.”
“You forgot his name?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s Steve. No Tony. No—”
“Peter,” I interrupt.
“That’s right, Peter.”
“Were you going to name all the Avengers?” I tease and she smacks my arm.
“Thanks for making Peter chocolate chip pancakes.”
“No problem.”
That’s my role sometimes. Jess brings a guy over and if he’s still there by morning, I make us all breakfast. If I didn’t, my best friend would leave our place without eating. I can’t have the school’s best striker starting her day off on an empty stomach.
“You know, you help me out all the time,” she says. “What can I do for you?”
“What? Dude, you made this dress for me!”
“But I offered,” Jess pouts. “You never ask for anything.”
“Of course, I do.”
Jess crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s the last thing you asked me for?”
I think back and back and back and come up empty.
“Can’t, can you?”
I don’t know where this is coming from, but I desperately want to change the subject. “How about when I bring a guy over, you can make him breakfast?”
“Alright, deal!” Jess laughs.
“By the way, did you bring any condoms?”
“Bitch, please,” she replies as I spot an empty parking space. “I always carry the essentials. Money, lip gloss, and condoms.” She stops to look at me then. “I should’ve mentioned that at home—I forget you never been to a party before.”
I laugh at her. “Yes, I have.”
“Not at school,” she reminds me.
Not since freshman year, back when Jess was still in high school, so she doesn’t know I almost hooked up with someone. With him.
Even though I tell myself not to think about that night, I can’t help it. And it’s not because the whole thing was something straight out of one of my romance books…
His eyes were on me from the first moment I walked into the house. My teammates went in search of alcohol, but I was pinned in place.
Leaning against a doorway, arms crossed over his chest, tall and obviously ripped, his shirt molded to his wide shoulders and defined biceps.
The tousled, black hair that fell over his eyes, the chiseled jaw, his full lips.
..he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. And he was staring right at me.
The wall to wall bodies seemed to fade away—only he and I were there. We hadn’t talked or touched or even met. Only our eyes made contact, but I’d never felt the way he was making me feel, the strangest sensation swirled in my stomach while an electric current ran over my skin.
When one side of his mouth quirked up, I felt the blush that stained my cheeks. I felt the rush of warmth pooling low in my belly.
A handful of guys chased each other outside and I lost him among the throngs of people running. Who was he? What was his name? Did he attend Tower Lake too? I had to find out.
Other guys tried talking to me, but none made me feel like he had. Attempting to be subtle in my search, I walked throughout the house. He wasn’t outside. Not inside either. He must’ve left. Or worse, hooked up with someone else.
My teammates weren’t ready to leave and eventually I ended up on the dance floor.
At least the music was good. That’s when it happened again.
It was as though his gaze was on me once more.
I couldn’t spot him anywhere I looked, but he was there, I knew it without a doubt.
He was watching me and I was enjoying it.
A random guy approached and got handsy, slipping an arm around my waist without invitation. He wouldn’t let go even when I tried to shove him off. Suddenly, he appeared out of nowhere. In an instant he flung the guy away.
“Get your hands off her!” he growled and threatened to break both of the guy’s hands if he ever touched me again.
“Selena!”
Jess’s voice snaps me out of that memory. It was so long ago. It feels like yesterday.
“You were supposed to make a left on Main.”
“Oops, sorry.”
I don’t want to keep thinking about that night. For some reason I do.
My heart was racing. I didn’t know him. Despite having witnessed him lift a guy off his feet to throw him off me, I felt safe with him.
“You okay?” he asked and I could barely hear him over the new Bad Bunny song playing, but I nodded. His eyes searched mine. “Want to go upstairs?”
“Yes.”
When he took my hand and led me through the crowd, then up one flight of stairs, I followed willingly. We ended up in someone’s room, just the two of us.
I watched him close the door, secure the lock, then turn to face me. His eyes were on mine and I was swimming in his. They were such an interesting shade of blue, cool like a morning dip in the ocean.
“Why haven’t I seen you before?” he whispered as I leaned against the door.
He was tall. So tall I had to tilt my head to look at him. I should’ve worn heels. Then I’d be closer to his mouth right now.
Unable to form words, all I could do was admire his striking face while I stood with my back against the wooden door. He caged me in, his hands on either side of my head.
“I think you’re here for me,” he said, his breath fanning gently across my lips.
His were full, looking so soft I lifted my hand to know for sure, but stopped just short. The smoothness of his jaw told me he was too young to grow a full beard yet, but it was his eyes I couldn’t look away from. A different blue now, hot like burning flames.
“Maybe you’re here for me,” I heard myself say and then the most wonderful thing happened. His lips curved up into the most gorgeous smile.
“Maybe,” he laughed and I smiled when he did, the sound filling me up with an unrivaled sense of happiness, intoxicating in a way I’ve never experienced before—
“Hello?!” Jess’s voice chases the memory away. “I’ve been talking to you for the last few minutes. Que piensas?”
I can’t tell her. Not right now. Maybe in a decade or two.
“Nada.” She makes a face. “Okay, fine, my sports psychology test. I messed up,” I reply, shaking my head because I hate lying. I got a 93%, which was the second highest A in the class. “I should’ve studied,” I add to sound convincing.
Anyway, I can’t tell her about him. Because whatever happened with him doesn’t matter.
I didn’t think I would ever see him again.
There were times in freshman year when I thought I caught a glimpse of that tousled black hair, a flash of those intense blue eyes, but when I looked again, it was never him.
“The only thing I want to study right now is a hot guy,” Jess snorts.
I laugh when she does, but my mind is elsewhere. Somewhere it shouldn’t be.
“Do I get to know your name?” he asked, his gaze intense and seeking.
The music from downstairs was only a faint sound filling the seclusion of the room, like something in a faraway dream.
I couldn’t explain the hazy quality to my vision, after all, I barely finished one beer, but I knew it was because of him.
It must be. His voice and his scent and the way he towered over me. I was mesmerized.
“My name?” I licked my lips and his blue eyes darkened. He leaned in, closer, and my heart raced.
He wasn’t touching me, but I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have his hands on my body. Would I explode? Melt? What would happen when his skin made contact with mine?
“Your name, your favorite color, what you like to eat and drink and read.” He reached up to touch my face, a caress so soft along my jaw that my knees nearly buckled.
“I want to know everything about you,” he whispered and the butterflies in my stomach roared to life, soaring, lifting me up until I was sure I would float away if not for his other hand at my waist.
Jess shakes my shoulder. “Ready?”
“Um, yeah.” I blink away all these unwanted thoughts. “I’m ready.”
“Remember, if you want to drink, I can drive,” Jess says and I fake a smile.
“We can both drink and we’ll just walk home.”
Jess agrees with a laugh. “Now repeat after me: estoy chula, soy chingona, and I’m getting laid tonight.”
“Estás chula—”
Jess giggles. “No dork, I’m talking about you.”
I laugh too. For real this time. “Okay, okay, sorry.” I didn’t think I’d be nervous, but here I am.
“Estoy chula,” she begins. It means pretty and cute, all rolled into one.
“Estoy chula,” I repeat hesitantly.
“Soy chingona.”
Sometimes I do feel badass and fearless, especially on the pitch during a match. But trying to hookup with a random guy? Not so much. Still, I inhale and repeat after Jess.
“Soy chingona,” I say, sounding more confident.
“Que?”
“Soy chingona!” I yell, feeling more confident.
“Fuck yeah you are!” she nods. “And?”
“And I’m getting laid tonight!”
“Let’s fucking go!”
We bust out laughing as we fall out of the car. Everyone needs a hype woman like Jess.
Shoulders back, walking tall, or as tall as I can in white sneakers because I’m not about to twist my ankles in high heels—I can barely walk in them. Besides, our season is only halfway through and the last thing I want is an injury to prevent me from playing.
A gust of cold air hits my bare shoulders and the back of my thighs as I meet Jess on the sidewalk. I wonder if she’s a little cold too.
“Don’t fidget,” she reminds me when I tug on the hem of my dress. Then, she loops her arm through mine and together we walk up to James House.