Chapter 3 #2
Susana wasn’t really his girl. Ruben was a known player.
He loves spreading his seed, but not rooting any garden.
I keep my gaze fixed on the game when I hear footsteps, and, by the sound of them, it’s heels clicking against concrete.
Then there’s the familiar jingle of bracelets, and I know a customer is walking towards their side. I smirk, because not today.
With that, I push off the plastic crate.
The block doesn’t call me Chulo for no reason.
I really am that pretty motherfucker—6 '4, golden skin, a fade that’s always fresh, with the kind of voice that would make anyone fall in love.
Once I start fucking with Ruben, I don’t stop until I win.
And when there’s customers involved, I turn into a shark.
And once I stand to my full height and lick my lips, it's over. They all know what’s up.
“Don’t go in there, mamas,” I say, dropping my tone to the one that hits.
I already have a deep voice, but when I add that layer of softness, it drives the women crazy.
I lean into the entrance of the bodega’s door, putting on the best show.
Flirting my way into a sale, just so I can shut this down between Ruben and I.
“You want your pastelito from me. Caliente y con sazón, chula.” *
Adding a wink for good measure. The woman giggles into her hand. A smirk tugs at my lips when I notice the blush creeping up her neck. It doesn’t take her long to make her decision, ass jiggling when she pivots right towards me.
I lift my gaze then, arching a brow as my eyes land on Ruben, who loudly shouts, “Diablo, loco*! You’re cheating.”
I shrug, using my body to hold the door open, and move out the way, allowing the woman to step inside.
My eyes no longer watch the sway of her hips.
My attention moves elsewhere—right where it’s meant to be.
Where I want to be, even if that makes me look a simp—at least I’m being honest, which is more than I ever got.
The woman in the store is nice on the eyes with dark brown hair with chunky blonde highlights that compliments her smooth dark skin, jean dress tight on those curves, attempting to woo me into flirting.
Unfortunately for her, I just ring her up and flatly say, “$5.99”
Disappointment flashes across her features as she grabs the paper-brown bag that holds the two beef pastelitos.
Her hand lingers on the counter before she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear like we're in some kind of movie. Sure, she’s gorgeous.
I’m just not a relationship kind of guy.
I hit and quit before it has a chance to grow legs. I’m a player, not a liar.
“Anything else you need?” I ask flatly, my attention moving to the commotion outside. These assholes are playing without me.
She licks her lips, while batting her fake lashes at me. “I was gonna ask you the same thing, papi. Like what you see?”
“Sure,” I deadpan. “I would like it better if I could see it from behind while I walk back to my game.”
With that, she slams down a ten. Huffing out breath, and I’m pretty sure she’s cursing me out inside her head.
From outside, I can hear Manny's cackle cut through the tension. Nosey fucker, probably listening in to what’s happening inside instead of focusing on the game.
I hand her the change, and she gives me one last glance that’s meant to make me fold.
Right look, just the wrong motherfucker.
The door almost slams in my face when she practically storms out.
I step out of the bodega, the heat sticking to my skin before I can sit back down.
The second the door shuts behind me, it’s like the barrio comes to life.
And I smile. For a long time I resented my mother for making me leave the Island, but who would have thought that I would grow to love this place.
The graffiti, the different shops that line the streets, the diversity you find just by stepping out of your house.
“Yo, Yael, wild for that!” Our friend, Chinito, whose family owns the Chinese restaurant down the block, chimes in.
And no, that’s not his real name, it's Rui, he just prefers the one the streets gave him.
Onyx strands of hair fall to his face, the dickhead almost breaking his neck watching the woman walk away.
“You really aren't gonna hit that,” he asks, staring at me like I'm insane.
Not gonna lie that ass is fat, but a man like me will do nothing but waste her time.
“Man, really said ‘turn around so I can see you walk away’ Nah. What the actual fuck?” Alex adds in, and I look over my shoulder, confused about how they were able to hear what I told her.
I know my boys are nosey as fuck but these assholes gotta have like ultra hearing, because there’s no other explanation.
Manny slams down another piece, locking the game. “Chulo strikes again!”
I shrug.
“At least you managed to piss off Ruben,” Alex adds before standing from his seat, blunt between his fingers while he laughs his ass off, almost dropping it.
Even the viejas chismosas* from the block are looking our way.
I roll my eyes, knowing the women in that salon are good for two things: doing hair and running their mouths.
And run it they do.
The older one, Blanca, shakes her head, muttering under her breath, “dios mio, este muchacho.” *What can I say—I’m damned if I do. Damned if I don't.
I’m about to sit back down when the air shifts, and the whispers change from me to her.
I try my best to not turn around to where I feel the energy gathering.
Do not look, even if my ear perks up to hear over the low salsa playing.
A small grin tugs at my lips, knowing I can still hear them talk amongst themselves.
The only thing is that immediately I regret it.
I am never one for chisme*, especially when it comes to her. And trust me, I’ve heard it all.
When the news broke that she got with Lenny, people assumed she was pregnant and that I beat her, amongst more nefarious things I’d rather not bring up.
Between you and me, that’s when the resentment started.
They left and I was left here. Listening to every rumor with no one to talk to.
I just know that after Neno died, things changed.
At first, I thought it was grief. Then Lenny kept coming around.
I got jealous, because who wouldn’t. When I met Adri, she was crazy for my cousin and then they actually got together while I was in juvie.
The rumors did damage to my heart and I’m not sure I’ve ever recovered. Still, curiosity has me tuning in.
“Mirala*, she's outside,” Blanca says with a tone I don’t like.
“Adriana?” one of the girls asks, I think her name is Gracie or some shit. Blanca replies with her usual snarky tone. “Esa misma.”*
Blanca clicks her tongue. “So skinny, who knows what she’s been up to.”
My gaze moves towards Adri, slowly roaming over the length of her, noticing the loss of curves, the softness of her replaced with a firmness that wasn’t there before. Sure, she looks thinner, but not in the way they play it out to be. My brows pull together, my ear still focused on listening.
“Right, you think Lenny cheated?”