Page 20 of Read With Your Heart

“It just means I met some people last week at the football game.” High school sports are a big deal to small towns, and I remember the rare occasion I went to a Friday night game with my friends, even if it was only to get high or score a chick. I was a basketball player, so give me a ball to handle over full contact sports any day.

“I’m still waiting on clarification, and I want to meet these people before you go out with them again.”

“Considering you aren’t my dad, I think I’ll pass.”

“Considering I’m all you have, chica, I think you’ll do as I say.” Jesus, I sound like Papi.

“You know I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks. Then I’m outta here.”

Yeah, that’s what she keeps telling me, but this is a real fear. I don’t have a right to hold her back. The only defense I have is it isn’t what my parents would want. They’d want her to stay and finish high school. Hell, I want her to succeed. I want her to go to college, get a degree, and have a good life. Not struggle like I have.

“Lena, how is that gonna work with college? You need to graduate.”

“I’ll go back to Lane,” she explains, referring to her previous high school as if it’s that easy for her. It’s becoming an old conversation. Next, I’ll ask where she is going to live and how she is going to afford rent, and I’ll get the same smart mouth answers. She’ll find a job. Like working at some burger joint is going to cover all her expenses. I’m working at a garage and it’s hardly covering mine, and now I have two more people to worry about.

I’m tired of fighting her.

“You’ll introduce me to your friends,” I state, crossing my arms, shifting from big brother mode to my former position—enforcer.

“Your gang member act doesn’t scare me, Leon,” she snaps, turning ghetto—which she isn’t—in her speech.

“And what do you know about gangs, Lena?” My sister might be tough, but she’s in honors classes at her school. Mami warned me Lena’s been creeping toward a rougher crowd, but I’d like to think she’s smarter than to get involved with trouble.

“Elle tiene una cabeza fuerte sobre sus hombros,”Mami used to say. Lena does have a strong head on her shoulders, which means she’s stubborn.

“More than you might think,” Lena counters, and instantly, I lose it, seeing red as I respond to her.

“You don’t know jack shit about gangs, niñita, and you’d do best to never know. They killed your brother. They put me in jail, and that is not where you’re going to end up.” My heart is racing as I point a finger at her, watching her hold herself tall but seeing her shoulders fall.

“Stop fighting,” Lys cries from the staircase.

“Go to bed,” Lena commands.

“Hey,” I snap at Lena. She’s tough on Lys, but it’s only because she’s unhappy. She hates me, and some days, I hate her, but she’s still my sister. They both are, and Lena doesn’t need to be so rough with Lys.

“Both of you go to bed,” I say, trying to rein myself back in. “And no more going out on school nights.” I glare at Lena who only stares back.

“Like you really care,” she says and turns for the staircase, double-timing up the treads. She has no idea how much I really do fucking care, but she always has to have the final word.

I let arguing with Lena serve as a reminder I don’t deserve the warm feeling—a laugh in my chest—I had earlier as I stood outside with Tricia Carter.

I don’t deserve anything good like that.

Lesson 10

There’s a reason for clothing.

[Tricia]

“He’s my neighbor,” I say to Jenna as we watch Leon on the court across the parking lot. We’ve both stayed late to work on lesson plans, and we collectively stare at his body rushing back and forth across the outside court. His body is a machine, sleek and powerful, and I remember what I’d witnessed a few nights back when he took himself in his hand. Since learning he’s the man next door, I’ve been more diligent about closing my shades, but sometimes, after it’s already dark, I open them back up just to peek at him. Most nights, his are closed, and there’s nothing to see.

“You lucky bastard,” Jenna whispers, breathless as if she’s running on that court with him.

I don’t feel lucky, though. I’ve made no progress with his sister, and he hasn’t come in for the conference I requested. I’ve referred their names to the principal’s office and filled out a form for the social worker.

“Why does he come here every day?” she wonders aloud. I’ve had the same thought. We have a local men’s league that meets at the high school later at night. I wonder if he’s in it. We also have a women’s league, but it doesn’t start until October. Guys have Tuesday. Women have Wednesday. Friday night is for high school football.

“I don’t know,” I answer. I’m frustrated by his lack of communication with the school, and I’m curious why I haven’t seen him in the days since discovering we live next door to one another. “But I’m going to find out.” I set down my soda can and head for the door. Like a woman on a mission, I hastily cross the parking lot and walk to the edge of the outdoor courts.