His Girl

Retaliation

I took his advice about taking the rest of the week off. All I had to do was jam my finger down my throat a few times so mom heard loud gagging.

"I hope I don't catch the flu from you," she said as she tucked me into the bed she'd made on the couch.

"Stay back," I turned my face away.

"Okay. Call me if you need anything, honey." She left for work.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I bawled. I wouldn't stop until she came home. It would take several days, many gallons of tears, and still I would not be rid of the longing feeling. I wanted to see him again, which made no sense. I barely knew him at all and I'd gotten beaten up just for looking at him.

By the next Monday, I forced myself to return to school. I was shaking as I walked to home room. I flinched as people passed me, terrified of being hit again. It got worse when I spotted the gang of girls standing together. I wanted to run. Coming back had been a bad idea.

As I tiptoed past them, I heard the sound effects coming from their mouths. They weren't happy to see me. One stepped forward, I braced for impact.

"Leave her, Dina," Camila said. I looked up in surprise.

"Oh you don't know what I'm talking about, little miss innocent?" Her attention turned to me.

"Huh?"

"Don't act like you weren't in on it."

I continued to class, totally confused. I was even more baffled when Ms. Suarez opened class with a reminder that terroristic threats, vandalism and violence weren't tolerated among the student body. I begged to differ on the last one.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Jake who sat next to me.

"You really don't know?"

"No, I don't."

"All those girls who fought you, each of their houses got targeted. Broke all the windows, cocktails thrown, crazy stuff."

"Cocktails?" I pictured rich housewives thrusting glasses of wine at one another.

"Bottle bombs." Still, I looked confused. He sighed, "gas in a glass jar, rag on top, light it and boom." He pantomimed throwing with an explosion following.

"Oh. How? Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"I, erm, I don't know."

"Finally got tired of her psychotic episodes, I guess."

"Who?"

I was distracted by a familiar saunter passing me. My eyes traveled up, Breaker winked at me as he found a seat. I made eye contact with Jake. Really?

"Ya' think?" I looked at Breaker. He had his usual pencil behind the ear, not a textbook or folder in sight. His focus was on the tree outside the window. He was back to normal, his lip had healed. A warm sensation poured over me. Had he done that? For me?

I watched him during lunch, he and his friends hung out between the parking lot at the furthest table on the outdoor patio. I couldn't place them like I could with other groups. There were jocks, with thick necks and dense eyes. They took their shirts off and threw a football around the field. Across campus, in what looked like mechanical garages, were the "continuation students", which was code for gang members. They had thinner necks covered in tattoos, they wore the same two-toned clothing options and walked in groups. It was best not to make eye contact with them, but if it was inevitable, be respectful. That seemed to be their hot button.

But Breaker and his crew didn't fit any of those. They had tattoos, they sometimes removed their shirts, it was clear no one wanted to pick a fight with them, but I didn't know their label. They skateboarded but they weren't skaters. They surfed sometimes but weren't surfers. They always had money but weren't the rich kids. The Southern California bad boy vibe was an enigma to an outsider like me.

He sat facing away from the table, his knees were a mile apart, his arms spanned wide leaning back on his elbows. He was a vision of arrogance. It should have repelled me but it was alluring.

I should have looked away but it was too late, he saw me. I froze, a warm tingling electricity between us. He cocked his head back, a native greeting I'd recently learned. It meant, I know you. It was casual and intimate all at the same time. I smiled, my bottom lip between my teeth. He did it again as he stood to join his friends walking away. A versatile gesture, it also meant goodbye. But not goodbye, more like, later.

Yeah, later. I thought.