Maldeamores (Lovesick) (Heightsbound #0.5) (14 page)

“Hell yeah, I’d totally fuck you. But you should think about it first. Virginity is really important to some people. If it is for you then we should maybe hold off.”

“I always imagined it would be with Lucky, but that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m afraid you’ll regret it tomorrow, then. Let’s just mess around and we’ll see what happens.”

“Was your virginity important to you?”

Kat moves her long hair over one shoulder. She’s got naturally red lips that are irresistible for kissing.

“I lost my virginity to a boy. It was kind of uncomfortable. I didn’t even really like him, I just wanted to get it over with.”

“Did you regret it afterwards?”

Kat nods her head and it looks for a moment like she might cry. Her nails are perfect ovals painted a bright, cherry red. Everything about her is beautiful; I wish I was more into it.

“Well, he was the first and last guy I ever slept with.”

I like Kat so much, I wish I could fall in love with her. I think she’s got a warm heart and that she would love back with honesty. I lean in and kiss her cheek.

“Let’s go to bed. I don’t want to regret anything.”

Kat sleeps in my twin bed with me and cuddles up to my body. She wraps her arms around me and throws one leg up over my leg. It feels really good to cuddle her but it also makes me cry a bit. She was interested in sex with me and I froze up in fear of regretting it later. She probably would have been an enthusiastic lover. And I do want to get it over and just be done with it.

I dream that Lucky’s breath is hot as he whispers in my ear. Then I feel the wet slide of his tongue as it slips over my jawline and dips down to my mouth. I open everything up to him. I roll on my back and spread open my legs. I breathe into his ear that I’ve been waiting for him, that there aren’t enough seconds in this lifetime for me to ever get enough of him.

I wake up from my arousal but Lucky isn’t here. I’m grinding into Kat’s leg and I immediately feel embarrassed about it. She doesn’t appear to be awake. I lie there and stare at the ceiling in frustration until my pulse slows down and my breathing returns to normal.

I guess I’m doomed to love only one impossible person. Lucky’s kiss ruined me for every other kiss. My glass heart sits trapped at the bottom of a honey jar with Lucky’s name permanently written all over it.

Chapter 16

“J
ust stand and say your name and tell us a little bit about your co-dependent relationship if you’re ready.”

I’m not ready. But boy is the guy in the all-beige safari outfit ready. He tells us about Jan and how they met and how they got married and how she became an alcoholic and a prescription drug user. She’s addicted to Oxycodone and takes Valium on top of it. He tells us how he used to sit outside of the bar in his pick-up waiting for her while she cavorted with other guys and got wasted—all because he didn’t want anything to happen to her when she drove home drunk. Then when she stumbled out making out with some dude and he tried to get her into the truck she would hit him—or sometimes the guys she was with would, too. She would say all sorts of terrible, nasty things to him. I can’t believe this Jan person. I can’t believe she’s so lucky to have Safari Guy and how mean she is to him. We break for cookies and coffee after we hear about Jan. Safari Guy has obviously taken up too much of our allotted time. But I can see why, because he’s got a lot to talk about.

I’m the youngest person here. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve come to the right support group. Maybe I need an inappropriate sexual fetish one, or maybe unrequited love, or maybe a group for teenagers with teenager problems.

I’m the last to speak and I can feel it coming. All of their pity-filled stares, all of their gossipy thoughts floating. All of the co-dependees will probably know my story by morning. The sick fuck who fell in love with her brother-cousin and wants to screw him.

“My name is Belén and I’m co-dependent with my cousin, who I’m in love with,” I add a little bit more quietly. I shift my feet and stare down at the floor.

I look around the room. Safari Guy doesn’t bat a lash. He’s already okay with my story. He smiles at me instead and nods like I’m fortunate to be less fucked up than he is.

I learn two things in co-dependency group therapy. That the dynamic between Lucky and myself might have a lot to do with the fact that he uses drugs – something I never thought of before. And secondly, that Jan baked the cookies we’re all eating, so even though she’s a rotten drunk, she does have some redeeming qualities. The cookies are off the charts and I eat four and pocket another two to bring home to Lucy.

The most insane part doesn’t even happen in the room. When we’re all filing up the stairs of the now-defunct Chinese restaurant, there’s a truck waiting for Safari Guy with its headlights blazing. When he climbs into the truck the dome-light goes on and it illuminates a woman driver who leans in and gives him a peck on the cheek. I stand frozen and dumbfounded in the glare of their headlights.

Safari Guy leans out and yells over to me, “Need a ride? We’d be happy to take you!” I decide he looks like John Denver and Jan has a nice smile. “Jan, this is Belén, our new member.”

“I’m fine,” I say lifting my hand meekly and walking toward the truck. “Those cookies were everything. I stole two for my roommate,” I say to Jan, confused as to why she’s not high or drunk. She looks kind of weathered but other than that seems to be a pretty nice person.

“Thanks! They’re my specialty,” she says as she backs up the truck. Both Safari Guy and Jan wave like they’re pulling away from church.

When Christmas time rolls around I decide to go home. It will be the first visit in a year and a half. My mom is so excited she gets the tree in November. I tell her it will dry up and lose the needles before I even get there. She can’t stop making plans. She wants to visit every person, every place we’ve ever been.

The reality of going home hits me about a month before I leave. I start working extra hard at both of my therapies, trying to build up resistance to falling back into my old ways. I’m scared, no, I’m terrified that Lucky might be there. I’m scared to see Titi; I don’t even want to see Yari.

Mami meets me at Grand Central, all bundled up because it’s snowing. Looks like it might be a white Christmas. The train station is overwhelming. I’m not used to being squished up against so many people. Everybody has a ton of shopping bags; they’re all moving so fast it looks like they’re running.

Mami smothers me with hugs and kisses and holds my hand on the subway uptown. I tell her about my classes and finals and what I’m taking next semester. I don’t tell her about therapy. I don’t want her to think I’m unhappy. I’m not unhappy, I’m just kind of stuck.

We make
modongo
for dinner. Titi is coming. Lucky doesn’t arrive until tomorrow.

I open the fridge and peek in to see if my honey jar is still there. I find it behind Hector’s beer, just where I left it. My room is the same too, except it feels drafty and cold. I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I fall asleep like that, and I wake up to Titi and Mami leaning over me telling me dinner’s ready. I cry when I see Titi, I didn’t realize how much I missed her. She hugs me hard and tells me “
hay que engordarte ni
ña,” because she thinks I’m way too fucking skinny. We eat in the kitchen and Mami and Titi are so loud and so funny that they have me in stiches. I think I’m bursting with happiness and a belly full of warm soup. Titi ran downstairs to bring up her batch of
coquito
to fatten me up. I do everything to avoid speaking about Lucky, but, in the end, he finally comes up.

“He misses you,
cariño
, he feels bad about how you left things. He’s grown up a lot.”

“Me too,” I say, smiling at my aunt.

“You were just kids getting in fights. Having those crushes that we all have and you look back and laugh at them later.”

Mami’s eyebrows shoot up. She doesn’t want me to contradict Titi on her well-groomed story of what happened between us. She doesn’t want me to say that Lucky was the love of my life. That I haven’t moved on, not an inch, not a smidgen. That I still dream of his touch and cry myself back to sleep after I wake up.

“He’s looking forward to seeing you. And Yari too, they’ve kept in touch,” Titi says, rotating the thick gold bracelets on her wrist. I think she said that one to hurt, like a warning, like a swift, sharp kick in the gut.

“I should call her,” I say, pulling my knees up on the kitchen chair. “What’s she doing?”

No one seems to have any idea.

After Titi has gone back downstairs and Mami takes a hot shower and puts herself to bed, stating that she has to work in the morning, I retreat to my bedroom. It’s still cold in here, and peaceful. I page through books and look at my old journals. I check out the clothes in my dresser. It’s funny how you can imagine yourself in the future and it never turns out anything like what you pictured.

I pull a box out from under the bed. It’s got a film of dust on it and I blow it off, kicking up a dust storm. The box contains old pictures and yearbooks. I know the whole thing is chock-f of pictures of me and my cousin. I proceed with caution.

But it’s not long before they’re spread out around me. Dozens of pictures of us, smiling at the camera. Missing teeth, ridiculously dated clothing, with Hemi’s kids—even with Yari. My whole life, always with Lucky.

I dial Yaritza’s old cell phone number. It gives me the disconnected tone. It’s only ten o’clock. She might still be up.

I stick on my tennis shoes even though it’s snowing. I throw my arms into my pea coat and wrap a huge scarf around my head.

It’s quiet on the street, everything softened by the snow. I’m making tracks in the powder, which is on its way to passing my ankles. I stop in front of Yari’s familiar building. It’s possible she moved out. It’s possible she’s on her own now. I stopped talking to her at all when I went away to college. I don’t know if that’s on account of our friendship or if it has to do with Lucky. A guy with a North Face jacket and a doo-rag with a baseball cap over it pushes open the security door. I grab it before it closes.

“You know Yaritza on the fourth floor?” I ask him.

“Shit, Yari? Who don’t know Yari?”

“She still live here?”

“Yeah, she be around, I think. Why, you a friend of hers or something?”

“I was. When we were kids. Thanks.” I blink at the fluorescent light and head up the stairs to Yari’s apartment.

I can hear the television blasting from the hallway and it sounds like the radio is on to compete with it. I knock on the door hard with my knuckles and nobody hears it. I knock again and then give up and whistle and yell, “Yari!”

She opens the door with a baby on her hip. She’s got on short shorts and a baby doll T-shirt with socks on her feet; her hair is up in pins. Maybe she got it done for a Christmas party.

“Hey, Belén, you back for Christmas? Thanks for keeping in touch, bitch. Bet you didn’t know I had a kid, did you?”

“Oh my God! That’s your baby? What’s her name? Congratulations! Who’s her daddy?” I’m floored and confused. I feel happy to see Yari but it’s obvious she’s angry at me.

“Wouldn’t you like to fucking know? What’d you bring me for Christmas? You here to see Lucky?”

My heart falls from the little cavity where it sits all surrounded with organs—straight down to the floor. Right where someone can step on it and grind it in with their foot.

“Lucky’s here? Why is he here? I thought he was coming tomorrow?”

“I dunno. Got here early. Asked if he could spend the night. He, unlike some snobs, keeps the fuck in touch.”

“I’m sorry, Yari. I’ve been really selfish. I’m all wrapped up in my own shit. It was so inconsiderate of me. I should go. Maybe we could get together this week?”

The house phone rings. It’s pretty loud, even over the noise.

“Here, hold the baby,” Yari says, passing me her daughter.

I grab the chubby bundle and press her to my chest. I smell her wisp of baby hair and whisper, “Hello, Yari’s baby,” to her.

I bounce her a little because she starts to fuss. I want Yari to hurry back because I want to get the hell out of here; no offense to the baby, but I’m not prepared. I coo, trying to keep her from crying. When I look up, a shirtless, jean-clad Lucky is standing in front of me.

I cradle the baby, freeze and just stare at him.

He looks the same, but his body is so cut. Every muscle defined, every single line that could be there is delineated clearly. He must work hard in the Marines, harder than on a Washington Heights playground. He looks healthy too, like he eats well and sleeps and maybe doesn’t stuff himself full of drugs anymore. His arms are tattooed. He smells like a man. He’s at Yari’s house. I’m holding a baby, that’s maybe his, and I can do nothing but stare.

“Merry Christmas, Belén. I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow.”

“Did you come from overseas?”

“Naw. I’m stationed in North Carolina at the base. I drove up here in a rental.”

“Is this your baby? Are you staying with Yari?” I ask, holding the baby out to him like I’m giving her back.

Lucky bursts out laughing and hunches over, holding his hand to his chest.

“No, Bey, that’s not my baby! That’s Yari’s daughter, Amari. I just came over here because Yari was up and I didn’t feel like going to sleep yet. I didn’t know you were home. But I’ll head out with you.
My baby
, you are hilarious. I don’t even live here.”

“Well, you don’t have to—I mean, to make babies.” All of the color drains from my face. I might just pass out if somebody doesn’t take this baby from me.

“Let’s go, I’ll grab my shirt.”

I walk into the apartment after Lucky and place baby Amari in her walker. She bee-lines for the kitchen, where Yari is on the phone tapping ashes from a cigarette into a blue glass ashtray.

“Call me tomorrow, assholes, I’m taking Amari to Macy’s to see Santa if you all want to come.” Lucky shrugs his coat on and plants a kiss on Amari’s head.

“We’ll call you, Yari,” he says.

“Unless Belén’s too good for it!” she shouts as we make our way into the hall.

We walk down the stairs in silence. I wasn’t expecting this torture until tomorrow.

“I’ll leave my car here. There’s no way we’d find a spot,” he says, glancing over his shoulder.

There is something I can detect in Lucky that was never there before. Apprehension, nerves? Maybe it’s hard for everyone to come home again.

We walk up the hill in the quiet silence of the snow; my Converse slip a little and Lucky grabs my arm. The feelings that swim through me are so intense and painful that I feel nauseated. But I cling to his arm like I’ve never clung to anything.

“I didn’t know Yari had a baby,” I say in a small voice.

“Yeah, last year. You didn’t really keep in touch with anyone, Bey. Including us.”

“I know. I guess I was kind of escaping.” The snow lands in his short hair and melts into clear drops that reflect the streetlights. I want to run my fingers through his hair. I want to embrace him. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed him and how difficult it is to live without him.

“How about you, Lucky? Did you keep in touch with everybody? Have you been home much to visit?”

“Twice. This trip makes three. Came up here last year for Christmas and once in the summer. Ma’s been down a few times when I get leave. With friends, just through Facebook. It’s not like I call anybody or write them letters. Yari likes to gossip—she keeps me up to date.”

“I haven’t talked to anyone,” I say, unraveling my scarf to get some air.

“What about upstate? You seeing anyone up there, Lenny? You dating?” Lucky asks and he looks confident in his question. Maybe that means
he’s
dating. He’s got a girlfriend in North Carolina keeping his bed warm.

We reach our building and stand in front in the glow of the streetlight. I shake my head and open and close my mouth to speak but I don’t want to let Lucky in on all of my fucked-up heartache. It’s not really his fault and it’s great if he’s moved on. I don’t want my affliction to be his too, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“I’m seeing a therapist,” I saying, trying to keep my head up with conviction. “And Jeremy when he came to see me. I have a really cool roommate named Lucy. That’s about it for me.”

“You dating a therapist, or you going to one for help?” Lucky asks, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m not dating anyone,” I say and risk a glance at his eyes. He looks so concerned and so ruggedly handsome. Even more appealing than a few minutes ago. I have that swimmy feeling that I get in my dreams. When Lucky’s hand touching me is the only thing on earth that I need.