Trenta y Dos
Her eyes were angry, and she was staring me down.
I know that look on her face, I’d seen it all day, every day for nearly four years.
Every time I beat her in anything, every time I got the answer right, and every time she saw me being escorted by Gabe, to or from Kings, she looked like she wanted to peel off all of my skin, snap all of my bones, and then stuff my organs through a meat grinder.
This bitch fucking hated me. Y yo la odiaba también. And I hated her back.
She acted like I was in her way when all I was trying to do was get the fuck out. She turned everything I did into a competition and was determined to be better than I was at everything. Bitch, who cares if I can say the alphabet backwards and you can’t?
But it wasn’t just because of Gabe, it was also because of her Daddy dearest. Kings Prep's beloved Headmaster loved to blow shit up his nose, and every fucking day I had to drop off his fucking drugs.
The OG’s kept him supplied in exchange for me selling in school.
He thought that was a win-win. He had no problem turning a blind eye, snorting in his office, and unzipping his pants when he fucking summoned for me over the loudspeaker.
I never hated hearing my name more than when Valentine Garcia was called to the principal’s office.
He was like every other horrible fucking man and added me to his daily ‘order.’ He’d lock me in his office, push me over his desk, pull up my skirt, rip off my underwear, and blow shit off my ass.
He used to lick the residue off my skin, bite my butt, and stick his finger in my asshole.
Pinche imbécil marrano asqueroso. Fucking disgusting pig.
He was fucking gross. He’d jerk his pencil dick off while he shoved his sausage fingers into me. Then he’d tell me over and over again how much he liked the way his Kings ring looked being shoved in and out of my body.
I’d be sitting in class, and everyone would say shit and stare as soon as my name was called. He’d force me to miss all of my APs so that he could go after me. Then a few days later, he’d say that I needed to be punished for being ‘truant,’ and fucking rape me again.
I had no choice but to turn off my brain. Him and the OG’s couldn’t get to me there. I’d float above my body, and I’d take myself far, far away. I’ve always liked the forest and the trees. I’d go there in my head and hide for a while.
He’d send me back to class, and I’d have to act like nothing fucking happened.
I’d be sitting there feeling fucking humiliated and ashamed.
Here I was, being trapped and fucking assaulted by her abusive fucking father, and this dumbass bitch would be burning holes in my head from the other side of the room.
She would be staring at me, feeling sorry for herself that he said my name instead of hers over the fucking loudspeaker. She had no fucking idea that her piece of fucking shit dad was raping me. If only she knew.
Her rage would reach new heights when it came to Gabe. If she could’ve drained the DNA in my blood that made him and me cousins, she would have. If we were just X, he wouldn’t have given a fuck as much as he did.
She literally hated me just for that alone. To her, it meant he had an obligation to me that he had to fulfill over her. It’s why this bitch would cry every fucking day at 3:30 PM. It was like fucking clockwork and to the point that Gabe had to carry tissues.
Puta madre. Imagine? A fucking gangbanger with those expensive-ass tissues with the lotion in them in his pocket next to his blade and inches away from a gun tucked in his waistband, at the ready for him to wipe away her tears without irritating her perfect skin.
Every day when I’d meet him after school for the trip back to the X, she’d have a full-on psychotic break when we had to go. She’d have a meltdown every day in his arms, and he’d glare at me the whole way back, blaming me for ‘triggering’ her abandonment issues. Pff, as if, wey.
I’d stay in the library for an extra hour to give them their alone time, and because of her daily crash-out, we’d have to hustle back. Gabe had to return me by 5 PM, Monday through Friday. And when we were late, we’d both have to pay for it.
My cousin was smart as hell, but his dumbass couldn’t figure out that his girl was fucking nuts. Princess Payton was a certifiable psych patient. Girl needed a straitjacket, a therapist, and a prescription. Honestly, it would’ve been good for her ass to take her mental health seriously.
She was obsessed with Gabe and viewed me as her fucking adversary. I was just trying to survive out there, and she was making everything that much harder. Which is what she’s doing now when she walks up to the table we’re sitting at.
It’s like deja vu. Except we’re not at Kings anymore, we’re at Havenwood.
“Your cousin has a message for you, Valentine.” Her words go straight through me, and I feel an icy chill up my spine as soon as she says, “Hasta pronto, prima.” I’ll see you soon, cousin. Oh diosas, me va a matar. Oh goddesses, he’s gonna kill me.
“Tell his ass to come find me, leave her outta it,” Hunter grits. He’s gonna kill me. She tilts her head to the side and looks at him like she’s considering it. Me va a matar. He’s gonna kill me.
“He couldn’t believe it when I told him, Val,” she says while looking like a creepy fuckingBarbiee doll. Her lips curve into a plastic smile. Her eyes are wide and sparkly like high beams on cars that warn you about danger ahead. It’s her tell and one that I know all too well.
“See?” she says in a high-pitched voice while holding up her phone to show me their messages.
“I sent him pictures of you at lunch. I mean, you look fucking terrible, even for you, Val, but he could tell it was you even with that ugly hat on.” She’s talking fast, and her hands look like they're conducting the words that sing-song out of her mouth.
“And then he wanted to know who he was,” she says and jerks her head toward Hunter in this rigid, robotic way.
It sends cracks through the ice that’s frozen me in place.
It feels like my heart is boiling in my fucking chest and melting away any remaining traces of fear.
“So I sent him everything that I could find on Hunter Wilton. Did you know he’s expected to go pro? Gabe was impressed.”
“DON’T YOU FUCKING LOOK AT HIM! AND DON’T FUCKING SAY HIS NAME!
” I scream while slamming my palms on the table before jumping outta my chair.
This bitch can say and do whatever the fuck she wants when it comes to me, but he’s off fucking limits to her.
He’s mine. Mio. “?TE CORTARé LA PUTA LENGUA! (I’LL CUT HER FUCKING TONGUE OUT!)”
“Ed!” he shouts as he snatches my hand away from my hoodie pocket, and I glare at him for interrupting me from grabbing my girl so that I can finally make this bitch bleed once and for all. “Don’t,” he warns, like he already knows what I was about to do.
“Wait, what did he call you? What does he think your name is? Did you say, Ed? Oh my god, your cousin’s gonna lose it when he hears that.”
“Call your man now, I’ll meet his ass outside and we’ll settle whatever this is,” he says to Payton, and I see her eyes flicker.
“Wait, she hasn’t told you anything, has she? You have no idea, do you?”
“FUCK YOU, PRINCESA,” I scream in her fucking smug-ass face and smile to myself, knowing that I hit my fucking target when she narrows her crazy eyes on me while her giant-ass nose twitches as her nostrils flare.
This bitch hates when I call her spoiled and entitled ass, ‘princesa.’ Bring it, bitch.
“Here’s what I do know, and you can go back and tell your little fucking boyfriend, that I’m the man that’s gonna end his ass if he ever fucks with my girl,” he threatens while squeezing my hand three times in a row. ?Qué quiere decir? What does that mean?
“He’d kill you first, but nice try,” she replies like he just told her a fucking joke and laughs while staring at her phone.
She’s too busy plotting to look up. I watch her click and zoom in on the thumbnail photo on her screen with her nasty-ass fingers. They’re fat just like her fucking fathers, and I lean forward to swat them off my man’s pixelated face with my free hand, and I knock her phone to the floor.
“WHAT THE HELL, VALENTINE!!!” She shrieks, and her fucking voice makes my ears bleed. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!” She screeches as she bends down to retrieve her stupid phone, and there’s a split second where I highly consider kneeing her in the fucking face.
“Don’t be fucking rude, Val, I was just trying to show you the photo I took,” she squeals like a fucking pink little pig as she shoved her phone in my face. “It’s a good one, he’s looking at you like he has no idea who you really are.”
I fucking hate her so fucking much. I turn my face away from her screen and look at him instead. She caught him smiling at me at lunch, and she knows he has no idea who I am. No one’s ever looked at me like that, and there’s a good chance that he never will again.
“Tell me, Val, what does he know? Does he know all about New York? About Kings? Does he know what you did, THAT YOU’RE A SNITCH AND A RAT?
THAT YOU RUINED GABE’S LIFE? THAT MY FATHER KILLED HIMSELF BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU STARTED?
! She’s yelling now, like full-on, causing a scene while she demands answers.
People are staring, and I don’t blame them. The three of us look like a shit show.
“What do you want, Payton? This has nothing to do with him,” I hiss out at her while he squeezes my hand like he’s refusing to let go.
“I want retribution, Val. And I plan on getting it.”