Page 7 of Read With Your Heart

“This place is awful,” Lena says behind me, taking in the outdated kitchen with its black refrigerator and dark brown countertops.

“It’s also now your home,” I snap. Papi told me Lena has attitude, and I’ve known girls like her. I won’t be putting up with it, but I take a deep breath, trying to tell myself it must have been scary. Hearing about the factory raid and how those without papers were rounded up must have been frightening for Lena and Lys. As I’ve been living for so long without my parents, I’d forgotten my sisters are kids who still need them. Plus, they’re girls, and I’m not trying to be a dick, but my parents protected them and sheltered them more than Israel and I had been. It’s definitely been an easier life for the Ramirez Round Two clan.

“It’s an entire house,” I remind my sister, who lives in a small apartment with my parents where the walls are paper thin, and she shares a bedroom with her younger sister. At least here, she’ll have a little bit of her own space.

“This sucks,” she mutters, crossing her arms and leaning on the jamb between the kitchen and dining room. My head snaps up, ready to lay into her again until I see her head lower. She doesn’t mean my place as much as leaving behind her home.

“It’s gonna be different,” I warn, “but you’ll adjust. You might even make new friends.” Better friends, I hope, considering our mother told me Lena has been drifting toward the wrong crowd. She’s a smart girl and doesn’t need that kind of trash in her life.

“Take your bags up to your new room while I work on making dinner.” I’m not a great cook, and with Lena here, I’m hoping maybe she can take over. Maybe she knows a recipe or two from our mother. I’d say I long for those days with Mami and Papi, but I hardly remember them. It seems like a lifetime ago.

+ + +

Later that night, I skip my ritual of a beer at Town Tavern. I go there mainly for companionship even though I don’t speak to anyone but Baz, the bald bartender and owner. The guys at the garage where I work aren’t too bad and ask me out once a week, but each night, I need to hear voices outside the ones in my head. It’s too quiet in this town, and it’s a reminder I’m alone.

As I stand in my room listening to Lys yell at Lena for taking too long in the bathroom, I realize my aspirations of peace might be over. I have no idea how long my sisters will be with me. Could be only a few weeks, which would stink because they’d have to be yanked back out of school, or it could be until their winter break. I have no way of knowing how long my parents’ detainment will last. They didn’t want me to come to them. They only wanted me to take my sisters.

In my room, I have a small lamp next to my bed lighting the space. My window is cracked open to allow in fresh air, and the shade is up when I notice my neighbor across the way through her window. Hers is covered in a sheer material, something flimsy and light, so I can see right through it. I reach for my lamp, clicking it off. I have no way to guess her height or age, but the subtle curve of her body and a profile view which accentuates her breasts tells me she’s all woman. She’s also wearing something skimpy and shimmery.

Like a dumbass, I stand before my window, my eyes focused on her as she moves about her room. A large lamp on a stand lights the space, and she pulls down the covers of her bed. Looks like she has a nice bed with white sheets and a thick comforter. She probably has extra pillows in frilly colors scattered across it. I shake my head.

What do I care what her room looks like? I don’t need to glance over my shoulder to know I only have a mattress on a metal frame with a set of sheets and no blanket. My pillowcases don’t match the sheets. Still, it’s a bed, not a bunk. I no longer sleep with someone over me. I stare across the drive and watch as she rubs up and down her long arms, probably moisturizing or something girly like that. She tucks her hair upward, tying it up on her head before she sits on the bed with the lamp still on. The light streams over her. For some reason, I’m mesmerized by her seated position—feet tucked under the blanket, knees pulled up to her chest. She puts on eyeglasses and holds something in her hand. A phone? A tablet?

Whatever it is, she tosses it onto the bed after a few minutes and falls over to her side, her backside aimed at me.

What happened? I want to call out. Tossing a phone like that can only mean one thing. Something has upset her.

Is she crying? Is she angry?

I continue to stare until I hear someone banging on the bathroom door outside my room. I flinch even though I don’t spook easily. I call over my shoulder to stop banging on the door like that, but when I turn back to look at my neighbor’s house, her room is dark.

Show’s over.

+ + +

The next day, I discover I can’t just send Lena to the high school to register the girls. I need to be present and show proof of guardianship, which I don’t have. I swear six times when Lena calls me to give me the news. She tells me it won’t take long to fill out the paperwork if I can get there soon.

“Stay there,” I mutter. “Let me see what I can do.”

My boss, Dixon, is a decent guy. I don’t know how exactly he makes money off his garage in this small town with a limited clientele. The place is attached to a gas station just off the highway, but Dixon also owns a second place where he restores vehicles and motorcycles. I haven’t graduated to that level of trust, so for now, I work the general pit at the gas station with oil changes, tire rotations, and tune-ups. It’s nothing like my previous experience with cars, where I stripped them and disposed of the parts. Nothing where I can use my painting talents. I’m fortunate he was willing to take on someone who’s been in jail. It’s been difficult to find a job.

“Dude, I hate to ask, but I need to take like, a half hour break. You can count it as my lunch.” In the pit next to mine is Arnie Shepard.

“What’s up?” he asks, leaning out from under the hood of someone’s minivan.

“My sisters moved in with me and can’t get registered at the high school without an adult.”

“So they called you?” He arches a brow, and I chuckle. He’s a bit backwoods and no AJ, my best friend from home, but Arnie’s still a decent guy. He’s roughly my age with shaggy dark hair and kind of a deer-in-headlights look to him.

“Yeah.” I sigh. I can’t have shit interfering with work. I need this job, and I’d been contemplating a second one just to keep myself busy and the money flowing.

“I guess that’d be alright. The high school, you say? Man, I shiver thinking back on that place.” He wiggles his full body in exaggeration and wipes his hands on a rag. “But yeah, do what you gotta do. If you have any trouble, I got a friend whose wife works there. Ask for Tricia Walker. She’s a teacher.”

I tip my chin. I won’t be asking anyone for help, but I appreciate the offer. “Thanks, man.”

Heading out on my bike, I hope this won’t take too long.

I don’t expect trouble, which is usually when it finds me.