Page 18 of Read With Your Heart

A fresh start.

We fall into silence again, but in no time, we hit the back of our collective yards.

“My brothers worry because our father was killed walking home from the Tavern.”

Jesus. “That fucking blows.”

She laughs, and it comes out like a puff of air. “Yeah, that’s one way of looking at it. In case you haven’t noticed, the side streets don’t have sidewalks. He was walking in the street when a drunk driver hit him.”

Shit.

She looks up ahead of us and squints in the dark. “The sad thing is he was only two blocks from home.” Her voice drifts off, and I sympathize with her more than she’ll ever know. My thoughts rush to my younger brother, but I force them away as soon as they come at me.

“Anyway, that’s why they worry,” she says, releasing a breath again as we hit the grass to the yards. Mrs. Drummond should put up a privacy fence back here so her tenants can be blocked from the back of these businesses.

“I think your brothers worry because of your douche ex.” My voice comes out harsh. I have stronger words for him. “I can’t believe he left you for that,” I blurt next. The woman draped over her future ex had desperate written all over her. Doesn’t she know she’s with someone else’s man? Or maybe she’s one of those women who doesn’t care? Like Rina, my ex-whatever-she-was before life went to shit. Then again, she was a part of the shit in my life.

“Yeah,” she whispers. I remember what she said about Trent. I don’t like him. I can’t get him to go away. I once knew a guy who took care of situations like that. He could make a dick like her ex disappear, but I’m not in that circle any longer.

And you’re never going back.

“Anyway, here I am,” she says. We pause on the driveway between the two houses that mirror one another, and I look up, noting a light on in the second window of my home. Hopefully, Lys is doing her homework. We need to chat after my earlier discussion with her teacher, Ms. Carter.

My eyes drift back to Tricia.

Ms. Carter. If I’d had a teacher like her, I might have finished my senior year just to look at her every day. Internally, I laugh. If I’d had a teacher like her, I’d have only dreamed of getting her on her back on the front desk while I hovered over her.

“This is me, too,” I say and watch her glance from my windows to hers, and then her expression shifts. Her hand reaches for her lips like she does when she’s reading. Like when she realizes something bad has happened.

“You’re my neighbor,” she states as if it just caught up to her that neighbor means the boy next door. Although I’m nowhere near that innocent. “The next-door neighbor.”

She sharply inhales.

“Oh, my God. I . . . you . . .” She’s pointing back and forth between the houses as our neighbor status sinks in. I wonder if she knows I’ve seen her naked. The other night I pulled that stunt, jerking off near the window, fantasizing about her, hoping—and now knowing from her stammer—she was actually watching me.

“I need to go,” she mutters, turning toward her front steps. She waves over her shoulder, and I can’t help myself.

“What? No good-night kiss?” I tease to her retreating back. Her wave turns into a flipped finger, and I laugh harder. As she climbs her steps and disappears into her house, I smile to myself. I can’t ever remember feeling like I do at this moment.

And I know this is bad—so, so bad.

+ + +

When I enter the house, the high from being near Tricia Carter comes crashing down.

“Where’s Lena, hermanita?” I ask Lys after climbing the stairs to the second floor. I rarely speak Spanish, so the term just slipped out.

“She said she was going out. Meeting friends.” Lys is so innocent as she answers me. She’s still in that awkward transition from girl to woman, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with her.

“She doesn’t have any friends,” I snap, voice already rising, but Lys is only the messenger. My other sister is going to be the death of me. She talks back constantly. She complains about everything, and she wants to go back home so badly she’s killing me. I get it. I’d want to be back with my friends too. As a senior in high school, she feels like she’s missing out because she isn’t with her girls. She will be the first in our family to attend college.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents lately. What are their finances like? Do they have money saved for Lena and Lys? How long will this detainment last? And what happens if they don’t return? I don’t have money to send Lena to college.

“Lena said she wouldn’t be long,” Lys interrupts my thoughts.

“How long’s it been?” I question, knowing I’d left the house at close to six to go to that damn open house thing Lys had guilted me into attending. “Mami would go,” she’d said even though it isn’t my fault my parents aren’t here.

“Since you left,” Lys confirms, which means it’s been almost three hours. I don’t even know who to call other than my sister herself, who won’t answer. Instead, I send one angry text after another. I’ll need to dump this phone soon, but for now, I need to keep the number.