Chapter 21
Adri
Merengue drifts from the small speaker, while I busy myself cleaning up Abuelo’s room.
His scent of cologne and cigar still clings to the air, stubborn as the memories.
Dust gathers in the corners, sunlight spills through the sheer curtains painting golden stripes against the harsh greys.
Every item feels important, it didn’t matter that it’s a yellowed newspaper clipping when he first started the tournament.
Tears swell in my eyes, grabbing his favorite white shirt, the one with the Dominican Republic printed across the chest and bringing it to my nose.
I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as his scent fills my lungs.
For a moment, it feels like he’s still here…
humming along to the music, telling me to keep the hope alive, and I need that today more than ever.
I’m a good player, but Lenny is a better one.
The idea of going up against him makes my stomach twist, but I push it down, refusing to drown in the what if’s. There’s no other option. I have to win.
My phone pings. I grab it off the bed, smiling when I see all the notifications from the video we recorded a couple days ago. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a thirst trap, it was Yael frying empanadas, teaching how to make the masa and the meat. I read over the comment.
Mamichula69:
Luckkyy… looks good and can cook.
I guess… I am lucky.
In many ways, there’s still so much to sort out, but I’m not in a rush.
Right now, this isn’t about Yael and me.
It’s about me, myself, and I. I have to show up for myself before I can be there for someone else, and something in my heart tells me he will understand.
A small knock on the door snaps me out of my head.
I look up and find my mother leaning against the wooden frame.
“Hi,” she murmurs, her eyes roaming over, assessing me like only a mother can.
“Hi,” I repeat, watching as she slowly creeps inside, scanning the room like it might detonate at any moment.
My mother takes a deep breath in through her nose, hand resting on the walls, like she’s trying to force air into her lungs.
It’s painful to watch. I lost my Abuelo, but she lost her daddy.
And her only son. My hand twitches to console her but I don’t.
Some grief doesn’t need touch, it just needs space to be felt.
This is what she needs, this is what drugs took away from her…
She’s been asleep for so long, and now it’s time to dance to the music the way her father always taught us. I blink away the tears, but all I do is make them fall faster. Mom turns to me, face wet with tears.
“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, I extend my hand then. A small mercy, to someone who has carried the same heaviness. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s nothing for me to say. I hold my mom, the same way she would when I was little. “I’m willing to move forward,” I tell her, rubbing patterns across her back. “But you have to keep going, ma. No more running. No more numbing. Feel it. Let it settle and live with it.”
My words break alongside her sobs. Her arms wrap around me, and in the silence we just hold on.
My heart evens out, my pulse steady as I hold her through the brunt of it.
I don’t know how long we remain in each other's embrace, but the sun begins to dip, replacing the sliver of golds with shadows.
Music filters from outside, and I know my time has come.
“I heard you’re up against Lenny tonight,” my mom says, tucking a loose curl behind my ear.
“You got this, Adri. You’re stronger than what you give yourself credit for.
When Neno died, I used to watch you. And in a way, it angered me that you carried it so well.
While I was falling apart, and that’s where I fucked up.
But you are so strong. So full of mercy and this is why you’ll win. Nadie gana con mala fe.*”
I smile at her words, and with a deep exhale, I rise to my feet, smoothing out my black dress, and head out the room.
Down the stairs, and outside. Like always the street is alive, neighbors gather outside, grilling and chatting.
Children play hopscotch on the sidewalks, their contagious laughter spilling between the burst of music.
The older ones crowd by the court, and this is home. A place worth fighting for.
Across the street, the familiar clack of the domino tiles cut through the noise, sharp and electric.
My pulse matches it. Altura’s energy hums through me like electricity, and I know this where I’m meant to be.
Even though he’s busy playing, Yael finds my gaze, and his fingers spin the tile once before he slams it with a capicú.
Alex erupts in a fight of curses, while Chinito and Manny laugh.
Just like that, the air shifts when the black SUV Lenny drives pulls up.
Everyone stops to watch, and I brace myself, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin with each step.
Feeling the presence of Neno and Abuelo beside me, teaching me and guiding me.
It’s hard not to smile, even as my pulse sky rockets.
Blood rushing through my ears, like vicious tidal waves. My knees shake but I keep moving.
Lenny steps out of the SUV, dressed in cargo shorts, and a purple graphic shirt. The sight of him almost makes me laugh. The clothes look wrong, like a costume. It’s pathetic, his attempt to pull at my heartstrings, dressing like the boy I used to admire from across the street.
But that Lenny is long gone.
And tonight, I’m not the girl who looked up to him. I’m the one who’s about to beat him.
Ruben sets the table, pulling two milk crates to the side, making sure it's only Lenny and me sitting across from each other.
His gaze roams over, his brown eyes softening when they meet mine.
I take my seat, scraping the plastic against the concrete.
He follows suit. No one speaks as they circle us.
Everyone places their silent bets while Yael writes them down in his notepad.
I don’t look his way, but I can feel his stare.
The game starts slow, tense and full of silence. Each tile hits the table with a sharp clack, echoing through the streets like thunder. Sweat beads at my temple, but I keep my focus. Lenny’s smile falters with every move I make. He’s losing ground, and he knows it. My body begins to relax.
The victory is so close. I can taste it.
Only for the rug to be pulled from under me. He slams a double five, blocking me. My eyes widen, staring at the tile in disbelief. My heart sinks into my stomach. My mouth instantly dries, making it painful to swallow.
“No,” I whisper to myself. There’s no way.
Lenny leans back with a smug look on his face as he taps the table with his ring. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. My eyes dart to Yael, watching the muscle in his jaw tick with rage.
No.
Something isn’t right. From my peripheral vision, under the street lights something glints from beneath Lenny’s hand. I lean forward, pulse hammering trying to make out what I just saw without making it too obvious. It’s a tile. I know it before I see it.
“Oye!” Estrella's voice slices through the night. “He’s cheating. Lenny got tiles.”
Manny jumps up. “You know the rules, cheaters aren’t allowed here.”
Lenny looks at the crowd, nervously chuckling. “I’m not cheating. I won fair and square.”
Yael moves with a calmness that sends a shiver down my spine. I open my mouth to speak, but he’s already there—his hand cups the back of Lenny’s neck, pulling him back just enough to make me gasp.
“Fair and square?” Yael’s voice is low and dangerous. “You don’t even know what that means.”
Estrella pulls out her phone, and begins to record. Or maybe she’s streaming. “Look at Altura’s favorite ass licker, Lenny Cruz.” She shoves the device into his face, shaming him. People stop to stare, pulling out their own phones and recording the show down between the two men.
“Open your hand, Lenny,” Yael sneers directly into his cousin's face. Of course, his demand goes unanswered forcing him to pry open Lenny’s hand like a toddler, coming up empty and with him smirking. Knowing he made a fool out of Yael in front of everyone.
“See… fair and square,” Lenny huffs out, almost laughing.
Then Ruben bends down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, lifting the missing tile. The very one Lenny tried to hide—holding it up for everyone to see.
“Some people never change,” Ruben says, shoving the domino toward Lenny’s face.
“This is how you used to beat Neno.” He chuckles, then adds, “But that asshole knew—that’s why I knew where to look.
Neno only let you win cause you were a sore loser and a cheater.
” Ruben shrugs. “And you know how the saying goes, once a cheater… always a cheater.”
My eyes narrow, lips curling into a sneer realizing that even back then, he was a phony. Lenny’s face twists, his composure cracking, veins bulging in his neck as his pride unravels right in front of everyone.
“You people are garbage! Nothing but ghetto trash!” he spits, voice breaking. Yael moves, and I reach out to stop him. A tomato flies past us, followed by a soda can—both landing by Lenny’s feet. He’s hysterical now, his voice cracking as he curses us.
Yael shifts, using his body to shield me from whatever his cousin might do next.
I can’t help but feel sorry for him, even as he hurls insults at all of us.
Because in this moment, he’s not a man who just tried to take everything from us.
Right now, he’s just another ghost of Altura drowning in his own noise.
“GET OUT OF HERE!” someone shouts, hurling an empty paper cup. “YEAH! VETE*!”another person chimes in.
From the crowd, a trumpet blares, and in unison they all chant, “Y FUERA!” *
The sound rolls through the crowd like a wave, echoing from the buildings and into the night. Lenny stumbles back, drenched in sweat and sputtering threats.
“Fuck all of you,” he hisses, while he fumbles with his keys. “And Yael, I still had her.” He laughs cruelly and brokenly, trying to mask his humiliation. “Have fun with my sloppy seconds.”
Yael chuckles, pulling me close to him. And with a lazy shrug, he simply says, “One man's trash is another man’s treasure. Deja el descaro *Cuz. Leave.” Lenny glares at us, disgust etched all through his features, nose flaring when he spits into the hot asphalt.
This time a tomato flies, hitting him square on the top of his head.
“GET OUT OF HERE!” Estrella shouts, hurling more trash into the air, this time she doesn't miss.
His purple shirt becomes stained with coffee, and whatever liquid spilled from everything they chucked his way.
Tomato guts coat his brown waves and forehead.
Lenny takes one final look at us before giving up and getting into his SUV.
The trumpets continue to blare, laughter rising all around us, wild and eclectic. Lenny flips us off and his wheels screech against the pavement. People chase after him down the blow.
Yael’s arm tightens around me, pressing a tender kiss to my temple.
“You’re not trash,” he murmurs against my skin.
“Never have been. Never will be. You’re my precious.
Mi Ciela.” The salsa in the background grows louder, spilling through the busy streets, dancing in celebration.
It didn’t matter where you came from. What street you rep. Right now, we are just Altura.
* Nadie gana con mala fe. - No one wins by acting in bad faith.
* Vete - Leave
* “Y FUERA!” - Get out!
* Deja el descaro - stop being so cheeky