On Monday, Luis surprises me by coming over to my house after soccer practice.
“You could have just texted me,” I tell him.
He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I thought you could use a calculus tutor. I’m offerin’ my services,” he says, then adds with not a small hint of cockiness, “for free.”
Oh, man, I am in trouble. The more time I spend with Luis, the more I want to be with him. I force myself to keep distant, and tell myself that I’m not going to let him get too close. I’d like to, though. When he puts his arms around me, I feel protected and safe. My mind tells me it’s a false sense of security. I’m constantly trying to determine which of my emotions is centered on reality.
I even get the sense that when he says he’s going to work at his cousin’s auto body shop, he’s actually doing something else. I’m probably being paranoid. I told him to be honest with me, and I want to trust him. But I have my doubts. It’s easy to push all doubts to the back of my head when I’m with him, though.
“I do need some help in calc,” I admit.
“Hi, Luis,” Mom says as I lead him to the kitchen table where my books are spread out.
“Hi, Mrs. Cruz,” Luis says politely.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together lately,” she says, stating the obvious.
Luis nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, I hope it’s not too serious. Nikki has to concentrate on her college applications and keeping her grades up.”
I cringe. “Mom, don’t embarrass me.”
“It’s okay, Nik,” Luis tells me. “My ma said the same thing.”
I’m tempted to prove to them both that we don’t have to compromise our future just because we’re together.
“Can Luis eat over, Mom?” I blurt out, changing the subject before she asks him for his dating credentials. I know she worries about me, and doesn’t want a repeat of what happened between me and Marco. Both my parents have grilled me about any boy I talk to. What they don’t know is that all friendships I’ve had with guys after Marco were just that—friendships. This thing with Luis … it’s much more. But I told my parents we were just friends so they won’t freak out.
“We’re ordering Chinese, Luis,” Mom says. “Do you like Chinese?”
He shrugs. “I can eat anythin’.”
“You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner.” She says it without a smile on her face, like she’s only saying it to be polite. I hope Luis doesn’t notice. She looks at our schoolbooks spread on the kitchen table. “You guys better get cracking on that homework.”
Luis and I sit at the kitchen table. He helps me with my calculus, then moves across the table to start on his own homework. I’m working on a poem for language arts. Our teacher said we should write about someone who had an impact on our lives, whether it was good or bad. I want to write about Luis, because he makes me want to change … he makes me want to love again. I’m still holding back, but to be honest, I don’t want to.
I glance at Luis for inspiration.
I catch him checking me out at the same time. Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach as I fantasize about what it would be like if we were alone together.
I expect him to look away, but he doesn’t.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I’d ask you the same thing,” he says.
“Do your work,” I tell him, trying not to let on that I’m tempted to go sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.
He looks down at his social studies folder. “I can feel your eyes on me,” he says after a minute.
“Sorry.” I stare at the blank page and start my poem. My first attempt is about a hero, who has come to save me before my heart turns completely to ice and cracks in a million little pieces never to be healed. No, that sounds too paranormal. I hope what I have with Luis is real, but after my bad judgment in the past, I don’t trust my instincts.
“Want to come over on Sunday?” he asks me. “Mi'amá will be at work, and my brothers are gonna barbeque.”
“Sounds great.”
“I’m gonna warn you, though. They’ve already talked about playin’ Panty Discus.” He laughs when he sees my expression. “It’s not what you think. It’s a game played with a tennis ball and panty hose … the kind that women wear. You have to see it to really appreciate it.”
“I’m sure,” I say, unconvinced. “Are your brothers competitive?”
“Let’s just say I suspect Carlos started trainin’ for it months ago while he was stationed overseas. Alex has always won, but now that we’ll be playin’ in pairs I think we’ve got a good shot at winnin’ the whole thing. Brittany is kind of a lightweight when it comes to strength.”
“What do you win?”
“Braggin’ rights.” He shrugs. “They’re kind of a big deal in my family.”
When my mom goes to pick up the Chinese food, I bite my lip wondering if I should bring up The Talk. I look up at Luis and know I’m going to have a hard time keeping to my original conditions.
“Umm … didn’t you challenge me to a debate or something like that the other night?”
His head shoots up. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
I laugh. “For what?”
“The debate, or, you know … whatever you’re ready for … I’m all in.”
“This isn’t the World Series of poker.”
“I know what it is, chica.”
I twirl my hair on my finger nervously. “I have to admit I’ve been thinking about being with you a lot.”
“Me too. Come here.” He pulls his chair out and motions for me to sit on his lap. Hoping my mom won’t come in, I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. I look down at his dark, mesmerizing eyes. “Nik, I won’t hurt you. I’m not gonna ditch you afterward.”
“I know. It’s just hard for me and … I’m afraid.”
“Of what?” He rubs my back affectionately. “Talk to me.”
I don’t say what’s really on my mind. Marco. The miscarriage. The betrayal. Luis’s secrets. I’m afraid of making myself vulnerable. I bury my face in his neck and squeeze tight. Despite all of my inhibitions and all of my suspicions, I’m falling for Luis. Being able to resist him physically is beginning to be impossible.
“Just so you know … I’m not on the pill or anything,” I say softly.
“I’ve got condoms,” he says, then smiles sheepishly. “Not on me, of course. I’m not one of those pendejos who carries one around just in case.”
Who better to get over the past than with someone I want to be with … someone who I’m starting to fall in love with. I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I’m nervous.”
He reaches up and cups my face in his palm. “You need to trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can.”