Perfect Chemistry 1 (13 page)

except the target kept getting larger and larger. The next thing I

knew, he gasped and that was it.

My dad was dead.

I never held him or touched him. I was too afraid. In the days that

followed, I didn't say a word. Even when the police questioned me, I

couldn't speak. They said I'd been in shock and my brain didn't know

how to process what happened. They were right. I don't even

remember what the guy looked like who shot him. I've never been able

to seek revenge for my father's murder, even though every night I

replay the shooting in my head trying to put the pieces together. If I

could only remember, the fucker would pay.

My memory of today is clear, though. Being stood up by Brittany,

her mother scowling at me . . . things I want to forget are stuck in my

brain like glue.

Paco downs half his beer in one gulp, not even caring when it

dribbles down the sides of his mouth and onto his shirt. When Javier is

talking to other guys, Paco says to me, "Carmen really screwed you up,

you know."

"And how's that?"

"You don't trust chicks. Take Brittany Ellis--"

I curse under my breath. "Paco, on second thought toss that Corona

over here." After I catch it, I down the beer and crush the can against

the wall after it's empty.

"You may not want to listen, Alex. But you're gonna hear me out no

matter if you're drunk or not. Your loose-talkin', hickey-makin', sexy

Latina ex-girlfriend Carmen stabbed you in the back. So you're makin'

a complete U-turn by stabbin' Brittany in the back."

I'm reluctantly listening to Paco as I grab another beer. "You

callin' my chem partner a U-turn?"

"Yeah. But it's gonna backfire big-time, man, 'cause you actually

like the girl. Admit it."

I don't want to admit it. "I only want her for the bet."

Paco laughs so hard he stumbles and ends up sitting on the

warehouse floor. He points to me with the beer still in his hand. "You,

my friend, are so good at lyin' to yourself you're actually startin' to

believe the bullshit comin' out of your mouth. Those two girls are total

oppo-sites, man."

I grab another beer. As I flip the top open, I think about the

differences between Carmen and Brittany.

Carmen's got sexy, dark, mysterious eyes. Brittany's got seemingly

innocent, light blue ones you can practically see through. Will they be

that way when I make love to her?

Shit. Make love? What the hell possessed me to think about

Brittany and love in the same sentence? I am seriously losing it.

I spend the next half hour ingesting as much beer as possible. I'm

feeling good enough to not think . . . about anything.

A familiar female voice cuts through the numbness. "Wanna party

at Danwood Beach?" she asks.

I'm staring into chocolate eyes. Although my brain is clouded and

I'm dizzy, I know enough to register that chocolate is the opposite of

blue. I don't want blue. Blue confuses me too much. Chocolate is

straightforward, easier to deal with.

There's something not right here, but I can't pinpoint it. And when

Chocolate's lips are on mine, I don't care about anything except wiping

Blue from my mind. Even if I remember Chocolate as being bitter.

"Si," I say when my lips separate from hers. "Let's party. Vamos a

gozar!"

An hour later, I'm standing in water up to my waist. It makes me

long to be a pirate and sail the lonely seas.

Of course in the back of my hazy mind I know I'm gazing across

Lake Michigan and not an ocean. But right now I'm not thinking clearly,

and being a pirate seems like a damn good option. No family, no worries,

nobody with blond hair and blue eyes glaring at me.

Arms like tentacles wrap around my stomach. "What're you thinkin'

about, novio?"

"Becoming a pirate," I murmur to the octopus who just called me

her boyfriend.

The octopus's suction cups are kissing my back and moving their

way around to my face. Instead of scaring me, it feels good. I know

this octopus, these tentacles.

"You be a pirate, I'll be a mermaid. You can rescue me."

Somehow I think I'm the one who needs rescuing because I feel

like she's drowning me with her kisses.

"Carmen," I say to the brown-eyed octopus-turned-sexy mermaid,

suddenly aware that I'm drunk, naked, and standing in water up to my

waist in Lake Michigan.

"Shh, let go and enjoy."

Carmen knows me well enough to make me forget about real life and

help me focus on the fantasy. Her hands and body wrap around me. She

feels weightless in the water. My hands go to the places I've been

before and my body presses against familiar territory, but the fantasy

doesn't come. And when I look back at the shore, the sounds of my

rowdy friends remind me we have an audience. My octopus/mermaid

loves an audience.

I don't.

Grabbing my mermaid's hand, I start walking back to shore.

Ignoring the comments from my friends, I tell my mermaid to get

dressed as I pull on my jeans. When we're dressed, I take her hand

once again and we weave through the crowd until we find a vacant space

to sit among our friends.

I lean against a big rock and stretch out my legs. My ex-girlfriend

straddles me, as if we'd never broken up and she'd never cheated on

me. I feel trapped, caught.

She takes a drag of something stronger than a cigarette and

passes it to me. I look at the small, wrapped joint.

"This ain't amped, is it?" I ask. I'm wasted, but the last thing I

need is narcs in my system on top of the marijuana and beer. My goal is

to be numb, not dead.

She puts it to my lips. "It's just Acapulco gold, novio."

Maybe it'll work to wipe out my memory for good and make me

forget shootings and ex-girlfriends and bets of having hot sex with a

girl who thinks I'm the scum of the earth.

I take the joint from her and inhale.

My mermaid's hands move up my chest. "I can make you happy,

Alex," she whispers, so close I can smell the alcohol and mota on her

breath. Or it might be mine, I'm not sure. "Give me another chance."

Being high and drunk makes me confused. And when the image of

Brittany and Colin with their arms around each other at school

yesterday forms in my head, I pull Carmen's body closer.

I don't need a girl like Brittany.

I need hot and spicy Carmen, my lying little mermaid.

NINETEEN : Brittany

I convinced Sierra, Doug, Colin, Shane, and Darlene to go to Club

Mystique tonight, the club Megan told me about. It was in Highland

Grove, on the beach. Colin doesn't like to dance, so I ended up dancing

with the rest of the gang and even this one guy named Troy, who was

an amazing dancer. I think I picked up some moves I can introduce to

our pom squad.

Now we're at Sierra's, headed for the private beach behind her

house. My mom knows I'm sleeping at Sierra's tonight, so I don't have

to worry about checking in. While Sierra and I are setting up blankets

on the sand, Darlene is lagging behind with the guys, who are unloading

stashed beer and bottles of wine from the back of Colin's car.

"Doug and I had sex last weekend," Sierra blurts out.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I know I wanted to wait until we were in college, but it just

happened. His parents were out of town, and I went over to his place

and one thing led to another and we just did it."

"Wow. So, how was it?"

"I don't know. To be honest it was kinda weird. But he was really

sweet afterward, asking me over and over if I was okay. And at night

he came to my house and brought me three dozen red roses. I had to

lie to my parents and say they were for our anniversary. I couldn't very

well say the flowers were in celebration of his taking my virginity.

What about you and Colin?"

"Colin wants to have sex," I tell her.

"Every guy over the age of fourteen wants to have sex," she says.

"It's their job to want to do it."

"I just. . . don't want to. At least, not now."

"Then it's your job to say no," she says, as if it's that easy. Sierra

isn't a virgin anymore, she'd said yes. Why is it so hard for me to say

yes, too?

"How will I know when it's the right time?"

"You sure as hell won't be asking me about it. I guess when you're

totally ready you'll want to do it with no reservations or questions. We

know they want to have sex. It's up to you to make it happen. Or not.

Listen, the first time wasn't fun or easy. It was kind of sloppy and

most of the time I felt stupid. Opening yourself up to making mistakes

and being vulnerable is what makes it beautiful and special with the

person you love."

Is that why I haven't wanted to do it with Colin? Maybe deep down

I don't love him as much as I thought. Am I even capable of loving

someone so much that I open myself up to being vulnerable? I really

don't know.

"Tyler broke up with Darlene today," Sierra whispers to me. "He

started dating a girl in his dorm."

If I didn't feel sorry for Darlene before, now I do. Especially

because she thrives on attention from guys. It fuels her self-esteem.

It's no wonder she was totally all over Shane tonight.

I watch as the rest of the guys and Darlene come into view and set

blankets down on the beach. Darlene grabs Shane's shirt and pulls him

aside. "Let's go make out," she tells him. Shane is all too ready to honor

her request.

Pulling her away from him, I lean close and say so only she can hear,

"Don't fool around with Shane."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't like him like that. Don't use him. Or let him use

you."

Darlene pushes me away. "You seriously have a demented view of

reality, Brit. Or maybe you want to point out everyone else's

imperfections so you stay the Queen of Perfect."

That's not fair. I don't want to point out her flaws, but if I see

her going on a self-destructive path, isn't it up to me as her friend to

stop her?

Maybe not. We're friends, but not super-close friends. The only

one I let close enough is Sierra. How dare I give Darlene advice when

she can't reciprocate?

Sierra, Doug, Colin, and I sit on blankets and talk about the last

football game in front of a bonfire we make with sticks and old pieces

of wood.

We laugh, remembering the missed plays and imitating the football

coach who yelled at the players from the sidelines. His face gets all

red and when he's really upset spit flies out of his mouth as he yells.

Players get out of the way so they don't get sprayed. Doug does a

hilarious imitation of him.

It feels good sitting here with my friends and Colin, and for a while

I forget about my chemistry partner, who's been occupying my

thoughts lately.

After a while, Sierra and Doug go for a walk and I'm leaning against

Colin in front of the fire, the light giving the sand around us a bright

glow. Darlene and Shane have hooked up for the night despite my

advice against it and aren't back yet.

I grab the bottle of Chardonnay the guys brought. The boys have

been drinking beer and the girls have been drinking wine because

Sierra hates the taste of beer. I bring the bottle to my lips and finish

it off. I'm feeling buzzed, but I probably need to drink an entire

bottle myself in order to feel completely carefree.

"Did you miss me this summer?" I ask, leaning into Colin as he

smoothes down my hair. It's probably a mess. I wish I was drunk

enough not to care.

Colin takes my hand in his and leads it to his crotch. He lets out a

slow, moaning breath.

"Yeah," he says into my neck. "Lots."

When I take my hand back, his arms snake around to my front. He

squeezes my boobs like they're water balloons. I've never minded

Colin's touch before, but now I'm annoyed and creeped out by his

roving hands. I shrug out of his grasp.

"What's wrong, Brit?"

"I don't know." I really don't know. Things with Colin seem strained

since school started. And thoughts of Alex keep invading my head,

which is annoying me more than anything. I reach over and grab a beer.

"It feels forced," I tell my boyfriend as I open the can and take a sip.

"Can't we sit here without fooling around?"

Colin lets out a long, dramatic deep breath. "Brit, I want to do it."

I try and down the entire can in one gulp, but end up spewing out

some of it. "You mean now?" Where our friends can see us if they turn

around?

"Why not? We've waited long enough."

"I don't know, Colin," I say, really scared to be having this

conversation although I knew it was coming. "I guess . . I guess I

thought it would happen naturally."

"What can be more natural than doing it outside, in the sand?"

"What about condoms?"

"I'll pull out."

That doesn't sound romantic at all. I'll be freaking out the entire

time and worrying about getting pregnant.

Not how I want my first time to be. "Making love means a lot to

me."

"To me, too. So let's do it already."

"I feel like this summer changed you."