Читать книгу Adios To All The Drama - Diana Rodriguez Wallach - Страница 14

After we got home, Lilly and I decided to forget about Emily. While we had waited for Teresa’s return, we sat in the hotel lobby for nearly thirty minutes theorizing that our friend was hiding everyone from a secret lover to Jimmy Hoffa. By the end of the talk, we still had no real answers. If Emily insisted on keeping her new boyfriend a secret, so be it. It’s not as if I were going to strap her to a water board and torture the truth out of her. I’d already learned from experience that she’d tell us when she was ready. I just hoped that it wouldn’t be after her whole world was shattered and she was left sobbing in a puddle of desperation like she was at Cornell.

The car ride home with my tía was devoted entirely to discussing which shade of flowers best matched the carpeting in her reception site and whether it was possible to get spring flowers in January. My brain was on overload. From Emily’s drama to Teresa’s wedding, I was ready to shut down the minute I walked through the door. Only that wasn’t an option. As soon as I got home, I received a group e-mail from Bobby reminding everyone to have their festival “tasks” completed by Monday.

So, with barely a brain cell functioning, Lilly and I switched gears. We were currently spending our Saturday night designing posters and editing photos from Alex’s digital camera. Not exactly a wild evening of booze and salsa like Alex was used to in Puerto Rico, but he said he didn’t mind.

“So you think I should design it with the school colors?” I asked as I stared blankly at the layout on my screen.

I was utterly void of inspiration.

“I think you should go with shades of green,” Lilly pointed out as she scanned the photos in Alex’s camera. “That’s what I think of when I think ‘Ireland.’”

“Good point.”

“Wow, these photos are amazing,” Lilly whispered.

“Gracias.”

Alex was seated on the floor at the foot of my chair, his hand resting in my lap as he watched me design text boxes and word art.

“So do you just take photos of birds and frogs? Or do you have any of us?” Lilly asked as she clicked through the images.

Alex’s eyes suddenly shot toward her with a glint of panic. “Ay, Dios mio. Lemme see the camera,” he ordered.

A smile quickly spread across Lilly’s freckled face.

“You do have photos of us, don’t you?” She laughed, darting toward the bathroom, the camera in her hands.

Alex chased after her, reaching desperately, but she swiftly slammed the door shut and locked him out.

“Lilly! Por favor!”

I swung around and saw him pounding on the solid wood panels. Lilly was silent on the other side. I had no idea what was on that camera, but I was suddenly very intrigued.

Then, I heard her gasp through the wood. “Caray,” she cursed.

Alex slumped against the wall and slid down to a seated position. He rested his head in his hands and folded his knees to his chest in an act of defeat.

Slowly, the doorknob turned and out walked Lilly, beaming from ear to ear.

“Are you ready for your close-ups, Mariana?” she teased.

I popped up and snatched the camera from her hand. As soon as my eyes met the digital two-inch screen, I sucked in a quick breath. There I was—a tight shot of my brown eyes, a stray lock of hair dripping in front of them. I flicked to the next image; it was me standing in front of my uncle’s hotel in Utuado. I moved to the next photo, and it was me looking over my shoulder, not realizing a camera was present. There had to be at least a dozen more images like this. All when I wasn’t looking.

“But I don’t even remember you having your camera out,” I said, my forehead wrinkled with confusion.

Alex sighed, closing his dark eyes tightly.

“When could you’ve possibly?” I murmured, shaking my head.

I flicked to the last image. It was taken through a pane of glass. The image was blurry, but almost artistically so. My eyes appeared focused and serious. Behind my left shoulder, I caught a fragment of a familiar sign.

My fingers immediately flew to my lips. It was the Internet café at UPR. I stared at the tiny patch of T shirt exposed in the frame. It was exactly what I was wearing the day Alex found me in the Internet café with Javier. When we hadn’t spoken for two weeks. When Lilly had manipulated us to stay apart.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, blinking at the screen. “You took these when we weren’t together…”

“It’s not how it seems,” he said quickly, rising to his feet.

“Were you…”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘stalking,’” Lilly joked.

I glared at her, not finding any of this nearly as funny as she was. She immediately wiped the grin from her face.

“No, I wasn’t. It was just, I don’t know. I wanted to see you…. But Lilly told me to back off.” He snapped his eyes toward her. She quickly looked away, flushed with guilt.

“So why didn’t you say ‘hi’? Why didn’t you call? You just followed me…”

My mind was whirling. On some level, I was flattered. To think that he liked me so much after knowing me for such a short period definitely filled me with a surge of confidence. The idea, however, that I was being watched and I hadn’t noticed, scared the breath out of me. I watched enough Law & Order to know those stories don’t usually end well.

“I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to go up to you. But I thought it wasn’t what you wanted…. And, sometimes, I would just see you around…”

“And take my picture!”

Lilly closed my bedroom door quietly so my parents wouldn’t hear. Thankfully, she had the good sense to realize that if my father heard a word of this conversation, he would lose it in a way that made Uncle Diego seem passive.

“I missed you, and I wanted to see you. And I was too scared to tell you how I felt.”

I paused, bewildered, staring at the photo of me in the café one more time. I remembered how I felt at that moment. I was consumed with sadness over the fact that I hadn’t seen Alex, that he had possibly lost interest. My mind was crammed with constant images of him, never-ending questions about what had happened between us. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to talk about him every second of the day.

“I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

“No, I understand…sort of,” I interrupted. “I missed you too. Not enough to stalk you like the paparazzi, but still…”

Alex rushed over and hugged me tight.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he whispered.

“Your first fight, how cute,” Lilly cooed from across the room.

He leaned down and kissed me. I tried to kiss back, my mind still reeling. Then Lilly coughed loudly and reopened my bedroom door.

“Okay, now that that’s settled,” she said at maximum volume.

Alex slowly unwrapped his arms from around my waist, and I quickly turned back to my computer. I didn’t think I should spend any more time helping him edit his photos. I’d leave that up to Lilly. I doubted the images would disturb her as much.

Later that night, I curled into my fluffy white bed. The room was dark and the house was still. I closed my eyes, but snapshots of my face kept skipping through my mind. I liked Alex. I had from the moment I met him. The idea that he had missed me filled my chest with warmth, but the fact that he’d photographed me without my knowing, made my gut wrench.

I tossed under the covers, trying to find a comfortable position that would settle my mind. But before I could relax, I heard my doorknob turn. Instinctively, I shot up and reached for my bedside lamp, only I couldn’t find the switch. Then a familiar image appeared in the shadows. It was Alex.

“Shh,” he whispered.

I nervously yanked my comforter up to my neck. I was sleeping in shorts and a ballet camp T shirt, but somehow the fact that I was lying in bed made me feel naked.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in a hushed voice.

He sat on my bed. “I heard noises in my room.”

“What?”

“And I remembered those stories about your abuela…”

“Alex, my grandmother’s ghost is not in your room,” I whispered sternly. “Seriously, you have to go. If my dad finds you here, he’ll kick you out of our house.”

He brushed his hand against my auburn hair, which was loosely tied in a low ponytail.

“I’m worried about the photos. About what you think…of me,” he said softly, still stroking my hair.

“Alex, we can talk about this later.”

He ran his hand softly down the side of my cheek. My body tingled. I closed my eyes.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me. I’m not loco,” he whispered.

“I don’t think that.” I opened my eyes and peered at him timidly.

He lowered his face abruptly and kissed me, clutching my jaw in his palms. He dug his fingers into my hair and he tried to shift his weight on top of me. I immediately stiffened and shoved him away.

“Alex, you have to go,” I said firmly.

The look in his eyes was almost desperate. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. If I were an eighteen-year-old boy and my girlfriend was sleeping down the hall, I might think there was a chance of midnight romance as well. But this was my house, with my father. And this was not the way the Ruíz family operated. For as much as I liked Alex, he was only going to be here for two months. And I had to live with my parents forever (or at least the next two years). If my dad found him in my room in the middle of the night, he would ship him back to Utuado and he would never, ever look at me the same again.

“I’m sorry. It’s my dad. I don’t want to get you into trouble. Not during your first week,” I whispered quickly, lightly pushing him out of the bed.

I scrambled to my feet and tugged at my shorts.

Alex smiled. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” I whispered.

“Good.”

He leaned over and kissed me again, softer this time. My shoulders relaxed as I clasped my hands around his neck. For a moment, I wanted him to stay. Then reality set in.

“Go,” I said again, pushing him toward the hall.

He tiptoed out of my room, and I carefully closed the door behind him. I stared at the clock on the far side of the wall. It was 1:00 A.M. on a Saturday night. I knew at least one person who’d be up at this hour.

I plucked my cell phone from my desk and hurried into my bathroom.

The phone rang three times.

“What up!” Vince shouted into the receiver.

“Vince, it’s Mariana,” I whispered loudly.

“What are you doing up?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Man, it was one of the brother’s twenty-first birthdays. He actually kicked twenty-one shots, including a blow-job shot with all this nasty whipped cream. It was freakin’ hysterical! The stuff was all over his face! And you do not want to know what that looks like coming back up,” he said, laughing.

“Vince, are you wasted right now?”

“Not completely. The after-hours parties haven’t started yet. We’re doing an eighties theme. I tore up a pair of jeans and got this bandana for my head. I so look like Bruuuuuce,” he joked in a deep tone. “Too bad I can’t grow a good beard….”

“Vince, focus. I’ve got issues with Alex.”

“Holy shit! I forgot all about him. You a child bride yet?”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re not knocked up, are you?”

“Vince, come on. It’s just—”

“Is he trying to get in your pants?” Vince yelled.

“I don’t know, I mean—”

“Oh, my God! That freak’s been there what, two days? And already he’s—”

“Vince, it’s not like that…exactly. It’s just…weird.”

“What’d he do?” Vince sounded dead sober, all humor lost from his voice.

While he wasn’t the type of brother to listen to my problems and offer sound advice, it was nice to know that he would step up if any guy tried to hurt me.

“This summer, in Puerto Rico, he took pictures of me…”

“You let him take pictures of you naked! Are you retarded? Do you know how many websites they could be on? Oh, my God! I mean, I have some pictures of chicks like that—I didn’t take them, but they’re crazy hot…. Anyway, you do not want to end up on an e-mail forward!”

“Vince, no!” I interrupted, shaking my head (it was amazing where his mind went). “He took pictures of me without my knowing. Of my face. Fully clothed. When we weren’t together those two weeks. Apparently, he was kinda, like, following me. Like, everywhere.”

“Ew.”

“And then, he came into my room a few minutes ago, while I was sleeping—”

“Just stop. Dad needs to boot this tool back to the island.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“First, tell him to keep his little stalker fantasies to himself. And second, lock your door!” he yelled. “Dude, I’m comin’ home next weekend. I’ll straighten this freak out.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna take time away from Mali to deal with my drama.”

“Ah, man, wait till you meet Mali. She’s smokin’! I have a total Asian fetish right now.”

“That is beyond offensive. Do you say that to her face?”

“Not usually. But whatever, I’ll take care of Alex.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just, I don’t know. Things aren’t exactly going the way I expected.”

“You mean that perfect little bubble Alex existed in during your vacation on a tropical island didn’t follow him here? Gee, I’m so surprised,” he snipped. “Mariana, there’s a reason they’re called ‘summer flings.’ They’re not meant to be pushed past Labor Day.”

I frowned. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

“Yeah, and brush up on Macbeth if you can. This paper’s gonna kick my ass.”

I smirked as I hung up the phone. I thought college was supposed to be hard. Right now, Vince’s biggest worry seemed to be which party to go to and which class to blow off. I couldn’t wait to graduate.