5. Deck - Age 16
Chapter five
FOURTEEN-AND-A-HALF YEARS AGO
“ M amá, I’m leaving soon.”
Cruz would roll in any second. It was midafternoon, but I had just woken up a few hours ago.
I’d managed to shower, shave, and eat a bowl of cereal.
Plus watch HGTV. I’d never tell my boys, but I was addicted to those shows where workers turned condemned houses full of old cat poop and graffiti and shit into fancy mansions.
After pulling on a white undershirt over my black Carhartts, I used the gigantic bottle of Costco-brand gel my family shared to slick my hair back, twisting a rubber band around it.
Searching for my wallet, I faltered when I found it sitting open on the kitchen counter. Had one of my siblings messed with it? Seen what I’d paid fifty dollars for yesterday? Or had I just tossed it there like un idiota when I snuck in last night? Anything was possible. I’d been pretty wasted.
After confirming that the driver’s license for Jose Alvarez, age twenty-six, resident of Lake Stevens , remained safely tucked away, I released a relieved breath.
Mamá called out from the back bedroom as I shoved the wallet into my pocket.
“No, mijo . Don’t walk out just yet. First, go to my car and bring in that little tote with the stuff from the pharmacy. I’m changing your sister’s bandages, and her new ointment is in there.”
I knew better than to argue. It was just the three of us in the house. Pop still wasn’t home from his shift at the airport, and none of my other brothers and sisters were around.
Only Marisol. She almost never left the house.
I found the bag my mom needed and brought it to the bedroom, placing it on top of the dresser near the doorway before attempting a quick getaway.
Mamá sighed from her chair near the bed. “I raised you better than that, Arturo. Bring it over to me so I don’t have to get up.” She met my eyes. “I could use a little help, too.”
“Cruz is gonna be here any minute.”
“Entonces probablemente deberías ayudarme rápido, ?verdad?”
Stepping slowly toward the bed, I glanced down at my sister. Her Kim Possible bedspread was bunched at her feet, and the sheets were a sweaty heap resting on her midsection. Her breathing was shallow, a result of pain and pain meds, and I wasn’t sure if she knew we were there.
“? Qué necesitas , Mamá?”
“That’s more like it, carino . I’m just going to pull these off and use the cool water before putting more ointment on. Then fresh bandages. Not too complicated. If you can hand me everything as I go, it’ll be quicker.”
I steadied myself. The process itself wasn’t complicated. But seeing the tight silvery skin pulling across my baby sister’s neck and jaw, the fresh red across her chest and shoulders, puffed up and angry after her most recent skin graft? That part was torture.
Five years and dozens of procedures later, it was still hard to look at. I did what my mother asked. Handed her the sponge. The little scissors. Gauze. All while keeping my eyes on anything but the bed.
We weren’t quite finished when I heard Cruz pull up outside. Mamá took pity on me. “You can go, mijo . I have it from here.”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek. As I passed through the kitchen to the side door, I ran into my pops coming in.
“Cruz is outside.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna pick up Johnny and go to Eliazar’s to play video games, or maybe head over to a friend’s house.”
He grabbed my shoulder as I tried to pass him.
“Artie, we have enough to deal with after your sister’s surgery. We don’t need any more nonsense—”
“I know, Pop.” I interrupted, annoyed.
“Don’t think we didn’t hear how late you came home last night. Stumbling around.” His grip tightened as he looked past me out the window, to a clear view of Cruz sitting stoically in the driver’s seat of his car. “I mean it. Don’t get up to anything.”
“Sure, Pop.” I twisted out of his hold. “I’ll be good.”
Cruz and I pulled up to Johnny’s double-wide earlier than planned. I assumed Cori heard the engine because she opened the door before I could knock.
“Johnny’s in the shower,” she said, not quite meeting my eyes. “You can wait here for him to finish up if you want.”
A blush spread across her cheeks, and her mouth turned up in a shy smile.
I clocked the cute little moles on the side of her face.
On school days, she wore makeup like all the girls did, but now I saw every freckle on her nose.
Johnny would probably punch me in the face if he knew how much I’d been thinking about those freckles lately.
I turned around and yelled to Cruz that Johnny wasn’t ready yet.
“Imma go get Eliazar then,” he shouted back from the driver’s seat. “You stay here and make sure Johnny keeps his ass moving.”
I smiled and waved Cruz off as I stepped into the trailer, shutting the door behind me.
It was a running joke in our crew that Johnny moved at the speed of a stoned turtle.
He took going with the flow to the next level, always running into the store to get one thing and coming out with another, losing his keys, or forgetting his backpack somewhere.
One time, he left his jacket at my house.
The rest of us hung in the car while he went inside to grab it.
After ten minutes, Johnny still hadn’t come back out, so I went in.
That fucker was sitting at the table with Pop talking football, chilling, like we weren’t sitting out in the driveway waiting for him.
But it was impossible to stay mad. Johnny never meant anything by it. He just loved people—loved making them laugh and loved when everyone was happy.
I’d known Cruz and Eliazar since kindergarten.
Johnny had shown up in fifth grade, feeling like a long-lost relative.
Johnny and Eliazar were on the younger side for our grade, while Cruz and I were older.
But the four of us fit together perfectly.
Especially Johnny and me. I’d never had much in common with my musical genius brother Raymond, and Emilio and Fernando were a lot older than me.
Johnny was my brother from another mother.
And, of course, with Johnny came Cori.
Pop called Cori and Johnny “Irish twins” because they only had thirteen months between them.
On the other hand, Cori and I were almost two years apart.
When we were kids, those years felt like a wide, gaping chasm , to use one of her flash card words.
Johnny pretended to get annoyed when she followed us to the minimarket or begged Eliazar for rides on his handlebars, but really, he didn’t mind.
And because Johnny and I were so close, she felt like my little sister too.
But somewhere along the way, things had changed.
I was determined to ignore it and had been mostly successful in pushing the newfound awareness down.
Until last Monday.
The evening began the way many had over the past year. I came home to find Cori at my house, babysitting my little sister.
While Cori was upstairs putting Marisol to bed, I sat at the kitchen table, getting pissed at my history textbook. It felt like every time I finished a page, I immediately forgot all the words. I kept having to go back and re-read, and even then, most of the information didn’t stick.
I was trying to decide between throwing the book out the window or setting it on fire when I felt a tentative hand on my shoulder.
Everyone thought I was a cocky, indifferent student.
I let them believe it because the alternative—people knowing I was just plain stupid—was way worse.
Cori never bought into either scenario. She always spoke to me like I had smart things to say and didn't judge me for having difficulties with schoolwork.
A few times, I'd been in danger of failing my classes.
She'd talked through assignments and textbook passages with me, and never mentioned it to anyone.
But that night, I was too far gone. As much as I loved her big brain, I wasn’t in the mood to be tutored or given a pep talk.
I glanced down at the open textbook, where the words still swirled together in a confusing maze of letters.
Cori’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “I’m sorry it’s frustrating, Deck. That sucks. Especially since you work so hard at it.”
I waited for her to say more, but the silence stretched. That was it. No solutions or advice. Just acknowledgment of my misery.
Exhaling, I reached my hand up to cover hers. “ Gracias . I’m glad somebody sees.”
She swallowed. After pausing a few beats, she said softly, “I see things… You know I do.”
I sucked in a breath at the murmured words. The sweet sound of her voice. She was right. I knew. How could I not? She was the only person on earth I never put on a show for.
I see things.
Cori saw.
Deck. Decker. Artie. Arturo. All of me.
The world stopped in that long moment. I shivered, and it felt like all the blood in my body began traveling directly to my dick. Tension lingered in the air between us, and I knew for sure what I had been trying to ignore for months. Something with Cori and me had shifted.
I couldn’t say anything, of course. Johnny would kill me. Plus, she deserved better than my sorry ass. But at least I could be honest with myself.
To her, I merely said, “Thank you.”
She nodded and gave my shoulder one more squeeze before grabbing her backpack and slipping wordlessly out the door.
It had been five days since then, but I could still remember the feeling of her hand on me. Could still remember jerking off to the image of her in my mind. I’d be feeling guilty about that one for a while.
But I was determined to get back to normal, to shake off this weirdness with Cori that had gotten hold of me.
The microwave beeped, pulling me from my thoughts. Cori waited a few seconds before pulling out a bag of popcorn. “Ouch!” She dropped the pouch on the counter and sucked her pointer finger into her mouth, mumbling, “I always forget you’re supposed to wait a minute to touch the bag.”