“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.”