Chapter 7
Adriana
Five Summers Ago…
Homecoming…
The sound of salsa playing, kids screaming, and dominoes being shuffled fills the summer afternoon.
The sun’s still high in the sky, burning everything golden.
The block smells like weed and barbecue—my favorite kind of perfume.
One I’m sure I’ll miss when I finally make it outta here.
When I’m on real stages. Not block corners. Not backyard barbecues.
I’m gonna make it. Big. Like Selena. It didn't matter that she was gone long before I was born.
Her voice still raised me. Her music made me believe in something bigger than this block.
It made me hungry. I glance at the mirror.
My black bandana shirt is tied across my back, the little triangle of fabric flashing golden brown skin on the sides.
Black booty shorts cling to my hips, and my Jordan Retros tie the look together.
I fluff my curls with my hand, scrunch and release, scrunch and release—until they fall how I like.
Then I hear it. A sharp and high pitched sound that shoots electricity through me, freezing me in place.
Recognition crashes over me, drags me under, then lets me breathe again.
I know that sound… That whistle, means he’s home.
My smile hits before I turn to the window and open it. There he is, Yael.
Taller now. Broader. The lower half of his arm inked and flexed, his waves glinting in the sun.
I can’t believe he’s finally out, and this time I hope he stays out of trouble.
Distance isn’t something I’m willing to put between us ever again.
I wonder if he’s mad that I never wrote to him.
Does he even know? The thought fades away when he smiles, and every lie I ever told myself—awakens the truth.
“Hey, you!” I call down. He blocks the sun with his hand, squinting up at me with that crooked-ass smile I used to dream about.
“Hey, stranger.”
My grin widens and I’m sure my dimples are showing. I probably look goofy but I don’t care—he’s back now. How easy it was for me to ignore him while he was away, and now seeing him, it’s like he never left.
“Time inside did you well,” I add, and he laughs, licking his lips as he devours me with a look.
“Yeah, you think so?”
I squint my eyes, pursing my lips a little. “Ehh, now that I think about it. Tas flaco…”* I say with a lazy shrug.
Yael chuckles harder. “Good one, Santos. Get down here and hug me. I’ve missed you, girl.”
And just like that, my stomach flips and the butterflies spill into it.
Who could have thought that two rivals could love each other this much?
Before all of this, all I wanted was to be with Lenny, only for life to show me that it’s not what I truly wanted.
My pulse thrums, and once again, I’m sixteen and waiting by the bodega for Yael after school just so we can sneak away from my brother, hold hands, and make out.
Everything was perfect until Yael started hanging out with the local gang.
By the time fall arrived, Yael was so deep in that life that he was sent to juvie and, naturally, Lenny and I got closer.
Taking a deep breath in, I compose myself but it’s no use.
I’m a bundle of nerves. I expected to be cool and collected, after all it’s been months.
But time away did nothing to stop the ache in my chest, the hollowness every time I looked outside the bodega or walked anywhere in the barrio. He was first. My first love…
Now he’s back… and I don’t know what to do with myself.
Shaking my hands, I take another lungful of air, mustering the courage to walk out my room and into the hall.
The house smells like fritura. My mom has been working on making fried appetizers for a double celebration.
Yael’s release which happened to fall on Neno’s birthday.
“Smells good here.” Grabbing a piece of fried plantain and stuffing it in my mouth, my mother gives me a knowing look.
“I bet it does. Go say hi before Neno comes back,” she says as she smacks my hand away from the tray. “No more, I’m tired of frying, it’s hot as fuck in this kitchen. Now go.”
Using her hand, she sends me away and I happily listen.
Time seems to slow down with each step I take out the small orange kitchen and head out the back door, down the three small steps that lead to my backyard.
I pass by Abuelo who plays dominoes with his friends.
Ruben who sits by the steps spitting game to the neighbor’s baby momma.
Then I see him, standing by the spray painted mural.
With his white beater lazily hanging around his neck, a Corona in his hand, and a blunt on his lip.
“Hi,” I whisper.
Slowly, his gaze moves from my legs and stops at my eyes, all the love and desire I thought might have died with my silence is all I see in his eyes.
“Hi.” He exhales the smoke quickly and opens his arms wide, and I don’t hesitate to crash my body into his. Breathing him in. “I’ve missed you so much.”
His arms wrap around me, the cold beer cooling down my skin when it touches my bare back.
“I think I win this one, Adri.” Squeezing me tighter, he breathes me in, smiling against my hair. “I missed the smell of your hair…” He drags in the air, making sure to press his nose against me. “So fucking much.”
Guilt claws at my chest. The oppressive weight of shame settles in my bones. We break away for a moment, our chests still touching, his hand resting on the small on my back as he brings the beer to his lips and takes a drink.
“Has he been good to you?”
I hesitate for a second, not sure how to answer.
He deserves the truth, but I can’t even look at his face.
How did he find out? The question rings through my head like a bell.
Nausea coils tight in my stomach. I can’t even force myself to meet his gaze, my fingers trace the outline of a scar between his shoulder blades, it’s new.
What does it say about me? I know more about his body than Lenny’s.
Yael tenses under my touch. “It happened a while back, when I first got in. Got shanked from behind.” My fingers stop, and we stay rooted in place.
And even though I should, I don’t pull away.
My body squirms beneath his heated stare.
Finally, I muster enough strength to put some space between us and ask, “Rival?”
He takes a large gulp of air before answering, “Let’s not talk about it, Ciela.”
The reaction of hearing his own special nickname for me, it’s visceral.
The corner of my lips curve, warmth spreading through me rushing up my neck.
Yael always tells me I’m his sky but doesn’t like calling me Cielo which is the Spanish word for sky.
So, he made his own version—mi Ciela—and it stuck.
“You’re avoiding my question?”
I hook my fingers together, taking a deep breath, and I finally look at him and shake my head, blinking away the tears. “Yeah, he has.”
He dips his chin, taking another long drink. Brown eyes shimmering when he moves. “Good,” he replies with a wink.
With that, he sits back down on his chair and I take the steps beside it.
The sound of the music fades, leaving nothing but the roaring rush of blood between my ears.
Clearing my throat, I try to think of things to say.
It's not that there is awkward silence between us, but it’s something…
and if I didn’t leave now, my heart would make a fool out of me again.
I shouldn’t have hugged him. Or allowed myself to be in his path, but I thought I was over it. For six months, I didn’t write.
I put all my energy into finishing high school and trying to put myself out there.
With Lenny by my side, just like I always wanted.
He motivates me to dream bigger and out of the barrio.
He tells me we’re gonna be the power couple that makes it out of Altura.
And even though I smile, it feels so wrong.
“My brother!” Neno shouts over the music, his large arms going up to the air, his face lights up and he grins wide as he takes in Yael.
Small waves of warmth run through me, as my twenty-year-old brother greets Yael with love.
It didn’t matter that the Cruz and Santos families didn’t like each other before.
Because they changed the story. Bringing customers to both bodegas with Capicú Friday.
At the end of every week, the bodegas play music and play.
Each game costs five bucks to join, and if you’re hungry, they have you covered with either chimi or pinchos, your choice.
“Brother,” Yael sounds from behind me, the warmth of his body scorching me as he passes by me and towards my brother.
Joel, Neno’s best friend, as usual, stayed behind, not caring much for interaction with Yael.
There’s some bad blood between them but neither says why.
We just all the know they don’t fuck with each other and whatever happened is still bleeding.
The good thing is that they both respect Neno, so there isn’t gonna be any issue here.
And they rep the same hood, claim the family, and no matter what, they bleed for La Familia.
It didn’t matter if you were jumped in, fucked in, or born in.
Association with any of the Los Cojuelos meant that you were part of it, and as such, you were protected.
At least, that's what I’ve gathered. Neno pretends like we don’t know.
What’s worse, is that mom does too.
I watch as my brother slaps Yael’s back as they hug, before pulling away and pressing their foreheads against each other. Neno whispers something I can’t hear over the music but I know my brother well enough to know he’s speaking from the heart.
Feeling like I'm invading their private moment, I look away and lock eyes with Lenny, who is walking in with a foil tray of corn on the cob, my mother tailing behind him.
Taking notice, I see how much I look like my mother.
Same brown color waves and skin, full lips, high cheekbones, freckles dusting the bridge of our noses, dimples, and ass for days but no tits.
A small smile creeps up my face as I rise to my feet and walk past my brother and Yael, towards Lenny, hoping he doesn’t see the truth in my eyes.
How naive to think that I had control over fate.
You see, I didn’t know it yet, but this was the last time we’d all be happy.
Back then, I thought the block smelled like barbecue and dreams. What I didn’t know was that it reeked of blood.
* Tas flaco - You’re skinny.