Chapter 1
Alma
PAST
Freshman Year
Before Esteban’s Death
Alma
Are you coming to school today?
Esteban
Sorry babe, not feeling well
Alma
Okay. Feel better soon
For the last month, it’s felt like Esteban has been pulling away from me.
We’ve been fighting more, mostly over sex and what I’m willing to give him.
I don’t mind exploring sexually with him.
To be honest, I’m curious myself, but I’m not fully prepared to give him my virginity.
I’ve found other ways to keep him satisfied, but I know it won’t be enough.
In my sixteen years of life, Missy and I have moved over twenty times.
I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to even figure out who I am.
But now that Missy is gone, there will be no more moving.
There will be no more long car rides, randomly picking towns on a map and starting over again.
I’m so tired of starting over. Tired of always watching life slip away behind me through a rearview mirror.
This is my chance to finally set my feet somewhere permanently. Esteban is stability. The key to me getting out from under Nan’s thumb. I can’t let him go.
Mr. Edwards continues his lecture on atoms—whatever the hell those are—and their basic structure. Turning to check the clock, I catch sight of Efren two seats behind me.
He looks right at me, his rich brown eyes a reflection of the dark aura surrounding him.
He’s dressed in his usual attire—tan dickie pants with a crease down the front, a clean white shirt that fits tightly around his muscular arms, and his hair styled back perfectly.
My skin prickles as he suffocates me with his gaze.
And yet I can’t stop looking at him, curious about the mystery hidden behind his eyes.
He was so different from his brother. Everyone at Fremont High knows who Esteban Nevarez is, captain of the football team, life of the party—the golden boy.
Efren is quiet—the slithering like a snake hiding in the grass, waiting to attack–kind of quiet.
It’s frightening and thrilling all at once.
He’s broody in a way that still catches the attention of most of the female population.
Rumors about his darker taste in sex only fuel their desire to get close to him.
Whispers of threesomes and orgies. My cheeks grow hot at the thought.
I turn back quickly, guilt settling in the pit of my stomach over the images my mind creates. My body throbs in the most intimate parts of me at the thought of Efren being pleasured by multiple women.
He’s your boyfriend’s brother, Alma.
The thought pulls me out of my fantasy. It’s wrong. Any thoughts I have of him are wrong. He’s Esteban’s younger brother. I push back any thoughts trying to emerge about Efren and focus back on the letter in front of me.
Esteban,
I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night, and I feel awful. I know I said I was ready, but I got nervous. Please give me the chance to make it up to you.
Xoxo,
Alma.
Tearing the letter out from my notebook, I fold it three times and place it into a small pink envelope. Missy always said men would never love me if I wasn’t willing to be exactly who they wanted me to be. I’m not sure if this is who I want to be, but I fear the thought of being alone forever.
When I hear the bell ring, I take the note and follow after Efren.
His strides are long, making it difficult to keep up.
I zigzag through the crowds forming, the loud hallways exploding with laughter, lockers slamming, and sneakers squeaking.
He’s standing by his locker. A few guys surround him, and a blonde begs for his attention.
I recognize her immediately, Naomi Miller.
The bitch who pointed out in gym class that I wore granny panties on my first day.
This dubbed me the weird new girl once again.
I was used to this. Every town we moved to, and every school I enrolled in, there were always mean girls waiting to devour me.
A reason why I preferred people in books.
When Efren sees me approaching, his eyes lock back on mine with that familiar intensity, peering through me and stripping me bare before him. Can he see my facade? My pathetic need to be relevant to someone? To be loved?
Knots form in my belly, but my feet aren’t hindered. Even as the alarm goes off in my mind, warning me.
Turn around Alma.
Go back.
He hates you.
I keep my eyes locked on his and continue forward with the note tightly secured in my sweaty palm.
Efren lifts his hand, and with the slightest flick of his wrist, the friends surrounding him vanish.
Naomi stalls for a moment, rolls her eyes, and then follows after the others.
The noise in the hall begins to fade, and I’m left standing there.
“Can you give this to Esteban?” My voice cracks. “Please?”
The bell rings, and the halls empty while I stand there unable to move.
Efren looks down at the folded note trembling in my hand, then back at me.
His finger grazes mine when he takes it, allowing me to sigh in relief.
But then dread seeps in, taking its place, as I watch Efren tear my note clean down the middle.
My eyes question him, but I can’t say anything. Two pieces become four and then eight.
A shiver makes its way up through my spine when he leans down, his face inches from mine.
“I’m not your personal fucking bitch.”
“I didn’t think—” My words catch in my throat when I feel my spine hit the locker. A scream is trapped in my throat, wanting to come out, but it can’t. Rage simmers beneath my skin, and tears pull behind my eyes.
“You never do. That’s the problem.” Efren’s lips brush against mine, his hand tightening around my throat. “You think Esteban gives a shit about you? You think he’s going to read your pathetic little note? He’s somewhere deep into a new pussy. Get over it.”
His cold words stay even after his hand releases me and he walks away.
My lips tremble in his absence as I look down at the shredded paper littering the floor.
There’s a newfound emotion that breaks through me.
It’s foreign to me, the feeling hot beneath my skin, and yet there’s comfort in embracing it.
I clench my fist and let it settle there. Fuck him.