uncrossed his arms. Protective or possessive? What was going on with him?
He headed to his room to shower. He needed to run to the east warehouse and talk to the manager.
***
The next night, a knock sounded on the garage door and Sixto called from the kitchen, "Come in." He finished tucking his tan polo shirt into his jeans.
Élian and Rico walked in. "¿ Qué bola asere ?"
Sixto answered, " Nada . ¿ Qué bola ?"
Rico put his hand out in a fist. "¿ Qué pasa socio ?"
Sixto tapped it with his. "You guys want a beer?"
"No, man, let's go!" Élian gestured toward the door. " Vamos !"
Rico shoved his shoulder. "It's not even ten yet, I don't want to be the first one there."
"We can get seats at the bar," Élian said. "The chicas like guys on barstools."
Rico laughed. "New strategy for getting booty?"
"He needs all the help he can get." Sixto handed them each a beer.
Élian gave them both the finger. "You fucks haven't been any luckier lately."
Sixto smiled and nodded. "He's right, Rico. Might as well stay home and watch a movie."
"No way am I going to miss seeing Élian try to work his barstool into a hookup." Rico took a pull on his beer.
"Hey, I'm ready to try anything." Élian poked Rico. "You should be too, jerk-off."
As Rico grabbed Élan's finger and twisted it, Sixto asked, "You hungry? I've got some junk." He opened the cabinet, pulled out Lays and Cheetos, and poured them into bowls.
They sat in the living room, Élian and Rico on one couch, Sixto on the other. He worked the remote and Salsa Cubana played.
"Not dance music," Rico complained. "I wanna hear some rap."
He changed the play to top forty rock. "Roommate's home, I don't want to piss her off."
Élian looked around, "Are we gonna get to see her?"
"She's not on display." Sixto threw a Cheeto at him. "You can meet her if you want, but don't act like an ass, all right?" He looked toward Bree's door. They'd been missing each other all day, both of them spending time in their rooms.
Rico leaned forward. "Is she anything like the bitch?"
"Uh uh." The look in Bree's eyes today when she walked in—it was the first time he saw her since he'd interrupted her private moment. She didn't seem freaked out by it.
"What's she like?" Rico asked. "Is she my type?"
" Bocón , you told me yesterday you're interested in Marisa." Sixto didn't mind his sister getting involved with Rico. The guy'd had a crush on her for years.
"Marisa's back?" Élian asked Sixto. "For how long?"
"For good. She quit Disney World and she's staying with the parents until she can find a job."
"Why'd she quit? I thought she liked being The Little Mermaid."
Sixto set down his beer. "Guess she's getting old. She's thirty-four."
"Do you think I should offer her a job at the restaurant?" Rico grabbed a handful of chips.
Sixto shook his head. "You think she wants to work in a Cuban café? You can't ask a princess to do real work."
Élian laughed, but Rico asked, "Think she'd go out with me?"
Élian hit him on the shoulder. "She wouldn't go out with you in high school. You think she's lowered her standards since then?"
"Shut up, pijirigua ." Rico snapped.
"I'm ridiculous?" Élian asked. "You've been in love with her for fifteen years and never got lucky."
"Hey!" Sixto growled. "That's my sister you're talking about."
Bree walked out of her bedroom carrying her laptop. She stopped when she saw he had company.
"Bree." He stood. "I'd like you to meet my friends."
The guys stood and turned, staring at her as she walked toward them.
"Aiyee, spooky," Rico whispered.
Sixto gave him a glare, but no one was looking at him. All eyes focused on Bree. She did look great tonight—a yellow sundress, her hair long and wavy, barefoot. Sexy.
"Bree, this is Rico Urizza and Élian Carriffa."
She shook each of their hands. " Mucho gusto ."
Sixto smiled. He loved the effort she put into embracing their language. His friends looked presentable tonight, dressed for the club. Rico wore a
He headed to his room to shower. He needed to run to the east warehouse and talk to the manager.
***
The next night, a knock sounded on the garage door and Sixto called from the kitchen, "Come in." He finished tucking his tan polo shirt into his jeans.
Élian and Rico walked in. "¿ Qué bola asere ?"
Sixto answered, " Nada . ¿ Qué bola ?"
Rico put his hand out in a fist. "¿ Qué pasa socio ?"
Sixto tapped it with his. "You guys want a beer?"
"No, man, let's go!" Élian gestured toward the door. " Vamos !"
Rico shoved his shoulder. "It's not even ten yet, I don't want to be the first one there."
"We can get seats at the bar," Élian said. "The chicas like guys on barstools."
Rico laughed. "New strategy for getting booty?"
"He needs all the help he can get." Sixto handed them each a beer.
Élian gave them both the finger. "You fucks haven't been any luckier lately."
Sixto smiled and nodded. "He's right, Rico. Might as well stay home and watch a movie."
"No way am I going to miss seeing Élian try to work his barstool into a hookup." Rico took a pull on his beer.
"Hey, I'm ready to try anything." Élian poked Rico. "You should be too, jerk-off."
As Rico grabbed Élan's finger and twisted it, Sixto asked, "You hungry? I've got some junk." He opened the cabinet, pulled out Lays and Cheetos, and poured them into bowls.
They sat in the living room, Élian and Rico on one couch, Sixto on the other. He worked the remote and Salsa Cubana played.
"Not dance music," Rico complained. "I wanna hear some rap."
He changed the play to top forty rock. "Roommate's home, I don't want to piss her off."
Élian looked around, "Are we gonna get to see her?"
"She's not on display." Sixto threw a Cheeto at him. "You can meet her if you want, but don't act like an ass, all right?" He looked toward Bree's door. They'd been missing each other all day, both of them spending time in their rooms.
Rico leaned forward. "Is she anything like the bitch?"
"Uh uh." The look in Bree's eyes today when she walked in—it was the first time he saw her since he'd interrupted her private moment. She didn't seem freaked out by it.
"What's she like?" Rico asked. "Is she my type?"
" Bocón , you told me yesterday you're interested in Marisa." Sixto didn't mind his sister getting involved with Rico. The guy'd had a crush on her for years.
"Marisa's back?" Élian asked Sixto. "For how long?"
"For good. She quit Disney World and she's staying with the parents until she can find a job."
"Why'd she quit? I thought she liked being The Little Mermaid."
Sixto set down his beer. "Guess she's getting old. She's thirty-four."
"Do you think I should offer her a job at the restaurant?" Rico grabbed a handful of chips.
Sixto shook his head. "You think she wants to work in a Cuban café? You can't ask a princess to do real work."
Élian laughed, but Rico asked, "Think she'd go out with me?"
Élian hit him on the shoulder. "She wouldn't go out with you in high school. You think she's lowered her standards since then?"
"Shut up, pijirigua ." Rico snapped.
"I'm ridiculous?" Élian asked. "You've been in love with her for fifteen years and never got lucky."
"Hey!" Sixto growled. "That's my sister you're talking about."
Bree walked out of her bedroom carrying her laptop. She stopped when she saw he had company.
"Bree." He stood. "I'd like you to meet my friends."
The guys stood and turned, staring at her as she walked toward them.
"Aiyee, spooky," Rico whispered.
Sixto gave him a glare, but no one was looking at him. All eyes focused on Bree. She did look great tonight—a yellow sundress, her hair long and wavy, barefoot. Sexy.
"Bree, this is Rico Urizza and Élian Carriffa."
She shook each of their hands. " Mucho gusto ."
Sixto smiled. He loved the effort she put into embracing their language. His friends looked presentable tonight, dressed for the club. Rico wore a
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