Tame

Chapter Eighteen

Angel Martinez was the boy I was going to marry. I didn't know how I was going to do it, but I was going to find a way. He was the love of my life, my best friend.
Our parents hated each other. Angel wanted to go to college, my parents didn't agree with that. They thought he should immediately start working after high school, but in the end it wasn't their decision. I never understood why my parents wanted to control everyone's lives.
I hated having to sneak around to see him. The late nights at secret places, the quick trips to my window when everyone else was asleep, it upset me.
I remember when my dreams of marriage came to a crashing halt. I told Angel about my moving to Brownsville six months in advance. He was sad about it, but quickly recovered because the next day he had Niva Lopez under his arm. At first I thought they were just friend even though I never saw them together until then, but then he kissed her nose and I knew I was wrong.
When he did his usual window trip that night, I ended things because I wasn't about to go down that road with him. I didn't expect him to be sad about it. I thought he'd take it as just news, but, instead, he got angry and said that he never wanted to see me again.
I had never been so confused before in my life. Wasn't I the one that supposed to be angry and hurt? Weren't those my lines?

The sound of thunder jolts me from my memory. I had forgiven and forgotten that years ago. My recovery time for the break up was quick because I knew I was never gonna see him again, so he wouldn't be a constant reminder of how things were. Looking into his happy face, I remember his letter being stuck to my water bill on my counter at home, the one Dean had tossed aside in his snooping episode. I wonder what it had said.
"Yeah, I did," I answer him. "But I haven't gotten around to reading it."
"That's cool," Angel says nonchalantly before glancing up at Keeper.
"Keep, could you give us a few minutes?" I ask.
"I know why you haven't read it yet," Angel tells me when the guard walks away. "You're still upset about Puerto Rico. About me."
I shrug. "Not really," I admit. "Because I'm on the road so much, it takes about a month, even more, before I can finally go home and look at my mail."
He nods in understanding though deep down I know he's still skeptical. "So, you're not mad anymore?"
I shake my head. "I'm good."
"Good," he replies and grins. "I was hoping if maybe we can get back on the right track. Not date or anything, maybe that can be for another time, but I want to be in your life again. I want us to be friends again."
I didn't bother to remind him that he said he never wanted to see me again. It was so long ago. Things had changed between then and now, we had changed.
"You know, I'm glad to see you're not scooped up yet," he says. "I was afraid that I really wouldn't see you again." So he does remember. "I'm glad to see you got out of there."
"Me, too," I agree. "I wouldn't be experiencing this," I gesture around the backstage area, "if I was locked up in the house, waiting for my husband to come home."
He nods vigorously and I can't help but laugh a little. It lightly dies away as I examine him more closely. "What's been going on with you? You've changed...a lot."
He chuckles. "Yep. Well I'm in college now. NJIT."
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "Engineering," I say more like a statement than a question because I know I'm right. His smile confirms it even more.
I remember him going on about his passion for engineering when we were at one of our late night secret places. The New Jersey Institute of Technology was his dream college.
"You remember," he replies, a hint of shock in his tone of my memory.
"Yeah," I confirm sheepishly. "It's one of the things about you that stuck."
I can't tear my gaze away from his smile. That thing is a dangerous weapon. It got him out of so much trouble with his parents and teachers when we were younger. It got him out of a lot of heat with me, too. 
"You still drawing?" he questions, and my whole body shakes in fright as if he emerged out of a dark corner and screamed, "Boo!"
"What?" I ask, stepping back just the tiniest bit.
"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you stopped. You were amazing!"
"You remember that?" I can't help but gawk at him. Even though I was still drawing when him and I were together, it had started to drift off so that I could spend more time with him. I haven't even looked at an old drawing of mine in a year.
"Of course I do. You were always talking about how you were going to be this famous artist and your work was gonna be displayed all across the world. I was looking forward to seeing that."
I push my hair back behind my shoulders, fighting the urge to tear up. Grandma Tiana was looking forward to seeing that, too.
"Yeah," I say lamely. "I stopped."
He frowns. "Sorry to hear that," he states. "Do you think you're gonna start back up again anytime soon?"
I shrug weakly. "Not sure. I'll try though."
He bounces on the balls of his feet excitedly. "Great."
I hear a door open and close from behind. "What are you doing in here, Ambrose?!" I hear Daniel scream and I know that's my cue to leave.
"I have to go," I tell Angel. "But here's my number."
When we finish exchanging numbers, I scurry off to Kane and Daniel's locker room. Dean's calmly grabbing my stuff as if Daniel isn't flailing in Kane's arms not trying to have a crack at him.
"Dean, what are you doing?" I ask tiredly.
"You and me are heading on the road," Dean replies and I can't help but note that he says it a little stiffly.
"You're not taking her anywhere!" Daniel grunts, still trying to wiggle out of Kane's strong looking grip. "Touch her and you're dead meat, Ambrose!"
"Daniel, it's okay," I assure. "Dean's not going to do anything to me."
Daniel stills, looking at me in confusion. "You actually want to go with him?"
I shrug. "I don't mind," I answer. "And I'll see you guys in Connecticut, okay?"
Daniel nods, seeming to be at a lost for words as Kane tosses him onto the couch and Dean slides past me out the door. I wave goodbye and follow him out of the building.

The weather doesn't let up as we get closer to the border that touches New York. If anything, it gets worse and the windshield wipers aren't doing much.
"Who were you talking to in the hallway?" Dean asks. I could clearly see through his nonchalant tone.
"An old friend of mine," I answer vaguely. "He lives here so he decided to come see the show."
He doesn't say anything as he looks over. I grip the armrest, I wish he'd keep his eyes on the road. It's bad enough I'm two seconds away from having a panic attack. This storm brings back so many memories.
I see her smile flash across my mind. The last smile she would have ever given me.
"Oh, okay, cool. You like him?"
I roll my eyes and don't answer. I'm already scared out of my mind right now, the last thing I want, is an argument with Dean.
"Ada," he presses. "Do you like him or not?"
"Why are we even talking about this?" I want to know. "He's just a friend, get over it. I don't understand why it's so important."
"Because I like you, Ada, you know that. I don't like you talking to some guy I don't know. I barely like it when you talk to Punk and Randy."
"I'm not getting into this with you," I mumble. "I'm sorry if you don't like it, but I don't know what else to tell you."
Dean blows air out of his cheeks in frustration before turning to me again.
"Dean, watch the road!" I warn, but he waves me away dismissively.
"Don't do this to me, that's not fair...." But I'm not listening. I spot a pair of headlights coming our way through the windshield wipers and heavy sheets of cold rain. My breath hitches in my throat which makes Dean follow my gaze as the semi-truck honks its horn.
When I close my eyes and bury my head in my hands, I hear someone screaming bloody murder. The sound fills every inch of the car, shaking my whole body. I don't notice it's me until seconds before I pass out.