Crystal Clear

Chapter Five

            As we pulled up to my house, I could feel the sadness of having to leave. When I so badly, desperately want to stay with Moe. He was literally the only fun person I have met here. He opened up my door for me and led me to my porch.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," I say then smile. I reach to ring the doorbell.

"That's a promise," he tells me. I giggle (GIGGLE!) and Herb opens the door. I basically give him a look of death but proceed to smile flirtatiously at Moe.
"Thanks so much, Mauricio, see you, tomorrow son," he nods and waves goodbye. As Herb closes the door, he turns to me. "He's a good kid, Gab. That's the only reason I let you out with him. Athletic, smart, hard-working. But has a whole lotta family issues," he says. I roll my eyes. He is one to talk about family issues. He created the mess that is my 'family'. I have a mother that I consider my actual family, but he wants to talk about family as well, so I'll talk and I'll play the game he wants to play.

Am I really getting defensive over this?

Trust me, it's dropped.

My father goes into the den, takes a seat on the recliner, lifting his feet onto the coffee table and then picks up a bowl of popcorn and a beer from the floor.

"How? What kind of 'family problems'?" I ask tentatively. I might as well hear the goss while I can. I hope I didn't sound too curious.

"Well, don't tell him that I told you this, but, his dad can't get back into the US. He's stuck in the Dominican Republic. His dad left on like some impulse after a fight he had with Mauricio's mother, Flora. She's not that great either, works a lot, like the rest of us work horses down here. That's what this town's built off, seems like, with this economy. Mauricio's got three older brothers, one in jail... two are high school drop outs... his sister has two kids with two different men and she's only twenty. They're a mess, when I tell ya, you think you have it bad, at least you have money, Gabriella. If you didn't have money you'd be a lot more miserable," he says to me. I actually got offended. Money doesn't equate happiness. Having a father leave you for eight years only to want to be back in your life spontaneously... that doesn't measure up.
"They can barely support each other, I think one of his sister's kids has a cancer. Leukemia or something maybe? Also, that guy Ray who works at the shop is his cousin. Ray came here from Texas to help them out," he goes on. All this drama, who would've known. My life is such a sad life. Almost as sad as Mauricio's.
"BUT Mauricio, he is an amazing athlete. Could probably make it to the NFL if he wanted to. I'm truly impressed by the boy. I want you two to be close, like an older brother, siblings, he's a good kid," my father tells me. What if we got close, but as something else? I wonder to myself...ugh, what am I even saying? First of all, no way in hell would Moe ever like me like that. He likes girls that wear drug store make up. Like Shannon.

"He's a good kid Gab. Go upstairs to bed, it's one in the morning," I obey my father's orders (for once) and stomp up the staircase. I close the door quietly behind me and take a deep breath.

Maybe, just maybe, it'd be alright here. After all, I'd have a fresh new start here. Nobody would know my past, my mistakes, all my Jersey history or even my reputation. Nobody would know anything, I could live however I wanted, a new me. Maybe... I can lead that life I had always wanted but could only dream about.

***

Mauricio

As I pulled up to my house, I could already feel the chaos happening in there. I quickly got out of my car and ran up the steps of my porch, dodging all the things that were just lying around on my yard. When I went inside, the fighting had already begun. My old brother Juan, he's been in trouble in the past, and my oldest brother Chuckie got into it. He was kicking Juan's ass, why, I have no idea, man. My mom, only in her early 40s, late 30s (am I really supposed to know this?) was screaming in Spanish at them to stop. She was too scared to get in the middle of them, because when they fight it's for real. My sister stood frightened in the corner with my cousin Ray and her two children, who were both crying for their uncles to quit it. As soon as my mom made eye contact with me she started shrieking, telling me to get in the middle of it and stop it. I knew she didn't want to put that sort of pressure on Ray, he was trying to help us out to begin with let alone deal with these two fools. I listen to her, blocking Juan from taking another fistful of Chuckie, pinning him against the wall. Unlike the rest of my family, I am obedient to what my mom says. I actually listen to her.

My mom is a thin woman, probably verge like anorexia if you were an American, since she is frail and America well... the bigger the better. She's tiny, five foot two, and has long black hair that reaches her waist. It's usually in braids, thick braids. She normally wears long skirts that reach her ankles and multiple shirts. Her eyes are unusually bright, hazel color, she always gets compliments on them.

Then there's my dad, but you can probably tell by now how nonexistent he is. I barely remember him. I know he is a daredevil and was always the risky type. He's a slacker. Lazy. The entire time we came to America, my older brothers would always say that dad just complained about going back to DR. He wanted to live like that again. That was about ten years ago. We haven't seen him since.

Once the fighting was over with and my mom was done yelling at them, Chuckie grabbed his coat and walked out. Where the hell was he going, it was almost two in the morning. He didn't have any friends left because he's fought them all or stolen money from them or ripped them off in one way or another. Juan went upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him. He didn't say a word to me, my mom, nobody. Just dipped. My mom tried chasing him up the stairs so they could talk, but he slammed that door right in her face. No thank you to me for saving his ass, not from my mom or him. My sister, Rosalynda gave me a hug and told me "thanks" with tears in her eyes. I know she appreciates everything I try to do for this family, but man, it's hard. I have a black and blue eye that's swollen thanks to Chuckie, gottam.

After I clean myself up in the bathroom, take a shower and finally lay down in bed, all I can think about is Gabriella Graise.

Gabby was above average in looks. She was gorgeous. Beautiful. Could not ask for someone prettier. She had long hair, that was very straight and reached her waist with highlights that seemed natural from the sun. Her eyes were a dark blue, so pretty. And her body... her body was great. I hope, wish, pray, that I get to see that girl in a swim-suit. A boy can only dream. I might just fall in love with her all over again.

Let me tell you, from the moment she stepped out of the men's room, I knew she was interested in me. The connection was instant. The chemistry felt like electricity.

Alright, let me throw it out on the table for you to see. I'll admit it, there's no shame in my game. I'm a player. I'm a 'man whore'. I lie to girls constantly all the time. The easier the better. But how else are you supposed to get under a girls clothes without having to throw some 'I love yous' out there? Please... sometimes I don't even have to go so far as to say that. Sometimes all I have to say is 'you wanna hookup?' and then the girls are like 'you talkin' to me?' Batting their eyelashes and licking their lips like I'm their next victim, even though they're all bowing at my feet, on their knees.

The longest relationship I had was this chick named Shannon. Gabriella met her earlier, I guess, awkwardly. But it's not really awkward because Shannon knows we're done. We've been done. She was aight.

For my sister, the tips I gave her was to never believe what a guy says because guys 13-20, I'd say, lie.

Girls call me a playboy. I don't mind it that much because the girls in playboy are hotties. Except they're so fake. Their tits, their asses. Just imagine a girl like that, except the difference is that her everything is real—that girl's name is Gabby Graise. My next victim in town. Okay, alright, maybe I shouldn't be using the word 'victim', that sounds kinda harsh. She's far more than that to me. So out of my league. City type. She is Mr. Graise's daughter, my highly respected boss. He gave me a job when nobody else would. I'm not going to betray his trust in me.

I'm not going to lose my job over some girl.

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So serious question: 

Would you lose your job over someone you were crushing hard on, if given the chance to be with them????