almost nauseated with embarrassment.
Lucky won’t look away or give me an ounce of space. He stares me down ruthlessly, with unmasked enthusiasm. I lift my dress up over my bare ass and slide the underwear back on. I know he saw my privates and a roaring heat surges through my body with the thought. Lucky licks his lips. He bites the lower one. Our eyes connect. He just saw every single part of me and I know he could feel that my panties were sopping wet.
“Why did so many cops bust an underage drinking party?” I ask, trying to take the spotlight off of my nudity. He nods his head fast like he does when he’s either angry or messed up on drugs.
“Your little faggot friend Jeremy sells coke and tonight was his idea of a fun set-up.”
“What?” I say, shaking my head. “He likes books and he does well in school.”
“Yeah, so did fucking Ted Bundy. Lenny, don’t make me talk about this.”
“How did you get out? Do you have any drugs on you?”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Fucking Jay called me and told me a set-up was going down. That’s why the order was so tall. I searched that whole goddamned place for you and then hid in the broom closet when they busted down the door.”
“Jaylee from the park?”
“Yeah. But where was little Lenny? She was hiding in the closet too, letting some fucking asshole pop her cherry!”
“That’s not fair!” I yell, turning my face away from him. “What about all the things you do with girls right in front of me? What about Yari? What about fucking my best friend so I have to hear every terrible little detail? How about ignoring me until you broke my heart? How about that, Lucky! You think you’re any better than me? You’re a coward and I hate you!”
The elevator opens into a dark garbage room that smells like rats and cat urine. I take my heels off and just fucking run away from him. It’s probably not safe, since I’m drunk and it’s late. But being with Lucky isn’t safe either. Lucky is probably the most dangerous mistake I could ever make.
Chapter 12
Lucky
I stay inside all of the next day and the one after that. It probably looks like I’m lying low but it’s much, much more than that. Some people might think my relationship with Belén is fucked up. But this is how it is and I can’t fucking change myself.
Our moms are from the Dominican Republic—they grew up on a farmhouse in rural Santiago, then followed their uncle to New York. One by one they came over and tried to make something of their lives. Awilda, my ma, Beatríz, Belén’s mom, and Jimena, Tía Hemi, that’s the order of their ages and the same order they left the island. After Hemi was born, Grandma got real sick. She died from a fever that may have been caused by a mosquito. Then Gramps had three girls on his own and a whole farm to take care of, not to mention Hemi was still just a baby. Gramps started her on warm, frothy, unpasteurized cow’s milk. Straight from the barn into her baby bottle. My ma always said that’s why Hemi can’t help but eat like a barnyard animal.
But the shit’s that really our family’s dirtiest secret isn’t in the barn—it’s in the Bronx, right here in New York City.
Tía Betty was nineteen when she arrived in New York. She looked like a grown woman but was probably more like a kid. She’d lost her mom, didn’t speak the language and didn’t have any skills for success. She was also pretty lonely and scared half to death. She didn’t move in with her sister Awilda, because my ma was already living with my dad. That left Luis, their only other contact in the city.
She’d met her uncle once before, her mother’s only brother. Luis had come to the city young, set out for his fortune. When Betty arrived he was a thirty-seven-year-old man with his own livery cab medallion. He was lonely too. And I guess it’s not too hard to figure out what happened. Lonely, single man still longing for the homeland gets a ripe, young
Lucky won’t look away or give me an ounce of space. He stares me down ruthlessly, with unmasked enthusiasm. I lift my dress up over my bare ass and slide the underwear back on. I know he saw my privates and a roaring heat surges through my body with the thought. Lucky licks his lips. He bites the lower one. Our eyes connect. He just saw every single part of me and I know he could feel that my panties were sopping wet.
“Why did so many cops bust an underage drinking party?” I ask, trying to take the spotlight off of my nudity. He nods his head fast like he does when he’s either angry or messed up on drugs.
“Your little faggot friend Jeremy sells coke and tonight was his idea of a fun set-up.”
“What?” I say, shaking my head. “He likes books and he does well in school.”
“Yeah, so did fucking Ted Bundy. Lenny, don’t make me talk about this.”
“How did you get out? Do you have any drugs on you?”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Fucking Jay called me and told me a set-up was going down. That’s why the order was so tall. I searched that whole goddamned place for you and then hid in the broom closet when they busted down the door.”
“Jaylee from the park?”
“Yeah. But where was little Lenny? She was hiding in the closet too, letting some fucking asshole pop her cherry!”
“That’s not fair!” I yell, turning my face away from him. “What about all the things you do with girls right in front of me? What about Yari? What about fucking my best friend so I have to hear every terrible little detail? How about ignoring me until you broke my heart? How about that, Lucky! You think you’re any better than me? You’re a coward and I hate you!”
The elevator opens into a dark garbage room that smells like rats and cat urine. I take my heels off and just fucking run away from him. It’s probably not safe, since I’m drunk and it’s late. But being with Lucky isn’t safe either. Lucky is probably the most dangerous mistake I could ever make.
Chapter 12
Lucky
I stay inside all of the next day and the one after that. It probably looks like I’m lying low but it’s much, much more than that. Some people might think my relationship with Belén is fucked up. But this is how it is and I can’t fucking change myself.
Our moms are from the Dominican Republic—they grew up on a farmhouse in rural Santiago, then followed their uncle to New York. One by one they came over and tried to make something of their lives. Awilda, my ma, Beatríz, Belén’s mom, and Jimena, Tía Hemi, that’s the order of their ages and the same order they left the island. After Hemi was born, Grandma got real sick. She died from a fever that may have been caused by a mosquito. Then Gramps had three girls on his own and a whole farm to take care of, not to mention Hemi was still just a baby. Gramps started her on warm, frothy, unpasteurized cow’s milk. Straight from the barn into her baby bottle. My ma always said that’s why Hemi can’t help but eat like a barnyard animal.
But the shit’s that really our family’s dirtiest secret isn’t in the barn—it’s in the Bronx, right here in New York City.
Tía Betty was nineteen when she arrived in New York. She looked like a grown woman but was probably more like a kid. She’d lost her mom, didn’t speak the language and didn’t have any skills for success. She was also pretty lonely and scared half to death. She didn’t move in with her sister Awilda, because my ma was already living with my dad. That left Luis, their only other contact in the city.
She’d met her uncle once before, her mother’s only brother. Luis had come to the city young, set out for his fortune. When Betty arrived he was a thirty-seven-year-old man with his own livery cab medallion. He was lonely too. And I guess it’s not too hard to figure out what happened. Lonely, single man still longing for the homeland gets a ripe, young
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