Nikki quickly covers her nakedness with her hands and whispers in a frantic voice, “It’s Marco. What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know.” My body is still coming off the high and I can’t think straight. I’ve hardly had time to recover, and I know there’s a good chance the evidence of what we just did is probably gonna be visible. Not good.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“I’ll get rid of him.” I pick up her clothes and hand them to her.
I watch as Nikki clutches the bra and shirt to her chest. “Thanks,” she whispers.
She rushes past me, but I take her hand and gently urge her to face me. “Are we cool?” I know it’s a stupid thing to say, but no other words come. I want to tell her more, a lot more, but I can’t.
“Yeah, we’re cool. Just … go.”
She locks herself in the small bathroom while I make sure my shirt covers any evidence of our encounter.
“What the fuck took you so long?” Marco asks.
Shit. Think of something fast. “Takin’ a piss. What’re you doin’ here? I thought you didn’t party with north siders.”
“I might not party with ’em, but I’ve got business with ’em.”
By business he means drugs. “You’re loco.”
“And proud of it.”
He peers over my shoulder and scans the pool house, but the lights are off so he can’t see anything. I close the door and head out, hoping to guide Marco far away from Nikki. It’s obvious she doesn’t want him knowing what happened between us. Hell, she might want to deny we fooled around. Or maybe she was so buzzed she won’t even remember it in the morning.
Marco and I walk into the main house. “This place is lame. Let’s bounce,” he says, pushing through the crowd of people who are eyeing us suspiciously.
“Who invited the wetbacks?” Justin Dougan calls out as we leave. He’s on the front lawn with a bunch of the guys on the football team, and they’re not sober. They’re all laughing and giving Dougan high fives for insulting us.
Marco and I both halt, give each other knowing looks, and in unison turn to face Dougan and his crew.
“What the hell did you just call us?” Marco asks, ready for a fight.
“You heard me,” Dougan says. “We only allow immigrants to clean our houses or mow our lawns.”
“Really?” Marco says. “ ’Cause when I screwed your sister in her bedroom two weeks ago she didn’t say anythin’ about that. In fact, I know firsthand that she loves eatin’ big, fat burritos.”
Oh, man. Dougan’s nostrils flare, and his group advances toward us. “You’re dead, Delgado.”
“Did you really screw his sister?” I mumble out of the side of my mouth so only Marco can hear.
He grins mischievously and nods.
“Go back to Mexico where you animals belong,” Dougan says, then spits at us like we’re the animals he accuses us of being.
Without hesitation, Marco charges him. I’ve got his back, though, when two of Dougan’s friends pull him off and start pummeling Marco with their fists. It doesn’t take long for my own fists to start flying.
And it doesn’t take long for a crowd to gather.
I don’t get into fights often, but when I do the beast in me unleashes with a vengeance. Maybe Dougan is right and I am an animal. The instinct to fight is in my Fuentes blood. Two guys are holding me down while a third is kicking my stomach. It doesn’t even hurt … with each blow the rage rising to the surface makes me stronger. I break out of their grasp and bring two of them down before I scramble to get up and pull a guy off of Marco.
I fight one guy to the ground, punching until he stops fighting back. Then Dougan and I get into it. He throws a punch that hits me square in the jaw. I retaliate with a punch of my own that brings him down.
I don’t even notice the flashing blue lights of a cop car until two cops pin me to the ground. One puts his knee on my back and starts to handcuff me. I look over and see another two cops handcuff Marco.
“Get up, Luis,” one of the officers orders.
Huh? I know that voice. I turn to look at the officer. Holy crap. It’s none other than Officer Reyes, my next-door neighbor and the guy who’s been flirting with mi'amá.
“Shit,” I groan. “Not you.”
“You know this kid?” another cop asks Reyes.
“Yeah. And I know his ma ain’t gonna be happy he got in a fight.” Reyes looks on the ground right next to me. Two packets wrapped in blue cellophane are lying in the grass. “What are those?” he asks me. “Those come out of your pockets when you were fighting?”
“No.”
He picks up the packets.
“Looks like blow to me,” one of the cops holding Marco says. “You two been dealing tonight?” he asks us.
Marco shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“Cesar, I swear they’re not mine,” I tell him.
I glance up at the crowd and see Nikki, standing with her hand over her mouth in shock. When our eyes meet, she turns away in disgust. She doesn’t believe me.
From the look on Reyes’s face, he doesn’t believe me, either.
He lets out a slow breath and shakes his head in frustration. “All right. You two, over by the squad cars. Now!”
I’m told to spread my legs so Reyes can pat me down.
“Got any weapons, drugs, or needles on you, Luis?”
“No,” I say.
“You high or drunk?” he asks, his hands patting up and down my legs.
“No.”
“Then why were you fighting?”
I shrug. “Just felt like it, I guess.” I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit if the pendejo called us wetbacks and thinks Mexicans should be second-class citizens.
“Think hard, because I’m the one who’s gonna have to call your mother to explain why I have you in custody and suspect you were dealing some pretty serious shit. I’d rather give her a reason why you thought it was a good idea to come all the way to the north side of town to cause trouble.”
What, does Reyes think that poor Mexicans are only allowed on the north side to mow lawns and clean houses, too? “I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” I tell him.
“Really? Why are you here?”
“He was invited,” Derek’s voice calls out. “By me.”
“And who the hell are you?” Reyes asks.
“I live here.”
“Let me see some ID.” Derek pulls out his ID and Reyes examines it.
Reyes gives a short laugh. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“Listen, I’m sure you’re aware that the legal drinking age in Illinois is twenty-one. You’re eighteen.” Reyes tsks and shakes his head. “Where are your parents?”
“Vegas.”
“So you thought you’d host yourself a birthday bash while they were gone?”
Derek nods. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Uh-huh. Get everyone out of your house, lock it up, and come to the station with us so we can call your parents,” Reyes says.
Derek is one cool gringo to come out here and vouch for me. “Don’t take him in, Reyes,” I say. “Give the guy a break. It’s his birthday.”
Reyes shakes his head. “Birthdays aren’t a license to break the law, Luis.”
I’m led to the back of one of the squad cars, while Marco and Derek are led to the other. Two officers drive them away while Reyes walks over to Dougan and his buddies. He talks to them for a while, taking notes the entire time. After a while Reyes and his partner walk back to the squad car I’m in.
Reyes gets in the driver’s seat and turns to me. “You really screwed up tonight.”
“Tell me ’bout it.”
“Listen, Luis. I care about your mother. You being involved in fighting and drug dealing is gonna hurt her real bad.”
“I already told you the coca wasn’t mine.”
“Was it your buddy’s stash?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Here’s the deal. I’m gonna let you and your friends off tonight after calling their parents, because I didn’t find the drugs on your person and a few witnesses said that you and Marco were harassed before the fight. But I’ll be watching you like a fucking hawk from now on. If I find out you’re dealing or getting into more fights, I’ll be on your ass so fast your head will spin.”
Shit, this guy is worming his way into mi'amá’s life, and now he’s going all parental on me. I’ve lived without a father my entire life, and have done just fine.
“You’re not my father,” I remind him.
“You’re right. If I were, I’d lock you in juvie for the night to teach you a lesson.”