01/Lou

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One/Lou

 

I stared at my new neighbor from across the street. He looked to be about my age, and danger radiated off of him like a glowing sign. I had crushed on his uncle-who was in his late 20's, an ex-gang banger, and current football player-for three or four years. And he knew it, and he still invited me over for his parties when he threw the wild extravaganzas with his teammates. But now he was like an older brother to me.

    Today was like the first day of school every year for the past fourteen years of my life-neither of my parents were awake to see me off, and I had to fend for myself. The only difference was that this year my older brother, Mario, was off to college, enjoying girls, parties, and freedom.

   Sighing, I toughened up and walked next door. Every year, I had snuck over to Juan's house, and he always had breakfast for me. He didn't have any permanent girlfriends, and, even if he did have a woman over, he made sure they knew the deal.

   The boy sat on the front porch, shirtless, and nursing a coffee. He glared out at the world, like it was at fault. I hadn't heard much about him, but the past few nights his playing basketball in the wee hours of the morning had awakened me. I thought about complaining about it, but the look on his face made me stop.

   I closed the door behind me, looking everywhere but at him as I walked up. I was shy-ish, anyway-and the feel of his eyes on my body made my skin prickle. I suddenly felt awkward in my usual get-up of a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with some basketball team's name on it. What was he thinking? Was I too fat to him? Too skinny? Pretty? Ugly?

   It doesn't matter anyway. He's going to the same school as you, and, in an hour or two, he won't even look at you without thinking of your mom.

  I shook the thought off, angry rippling through me. The reason I didn't have many friends is because I trusted no one. I had shared my secret with my ex best friend, Cecilia, and now everybody hated me. Or, they made fun of me anyway. Rich, I was. But my mother had ruined me without even trying. And I hated her as much as they hated me.

   Once I got to the porch, I paused a second to greet him, but, instead, it was like my brain disconnected from every single part of my body. My eyes widened, drinking him in. He was a cool glass of water in this muggy Louisiana air. Tall with tanned, golden skin, he had it all inked up from his wrists to his shoulders. The showcase of black ink against that smooth skin captured my attention. I studied him, vaguely noting the Spanish phrases, and wondering briefly about the tree that was tattooed from his waist to his pecs and branching out. I slowly drug my eyes from his waist up over his full lips, where I rested for a minute, to that nose, and over those vivid blue eyes. Finally, I let my eyes wonder over his hairstyle-a Mohawk that had soft, pretty curls streaked with gold running through them.

   I blinked, heart racing. "G-good mornin'," I stuttered, swallowing. My throat felt really, really dry.

   A smile crossed his lips. He stood then, and his posture said everything about him I would've guessed-he was deadly, dangerous, sexy, and he knew it. He knew I was attracted to him. "Buenas dias, chica." That slight accented combined with that husky voice had me at a loss for words.

   I just smiled instead and disappeared inside.

   Juan was already up and laying shirtless on the sofa, watching ESPN. He turned to me, pausing the TV. "Look at that hunk catch the ball," he said, blowing a kiss at himself on the screen.

   I arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, Papi, he's a hottie," I joked, taking up my seat in the recliner. I still had over forty-five minutes before school started, but I knew he would want to talk to me first. "I dunno, that hottie on the sidelines, though. Whew." I wiped my brow, thinking of his teammate, Richard Smooth, or Rico Smooth as they called him.

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