Chapter 16
Our parents got back late in the afternoon, hauling the monthly groceries for all three houses. It was the new strategy to save money: buy everything in bulk and split it. For us, it just meant more work.
Pedro and I headed down to help, while Mariana trailed behind in silence, like she always did when she was pissed. Tomorrow, she'd be talking to me like nothing happened, but for now, she was playing it cool.
As soon as they pulled up, the grind started. Boxes and bags stuffed with rice, beans, pasta, sugar, oil… a stockpile that seemed endless. Like always, nobody asked if we wanted to pitch in—they just dumped the job on us. Unloading the car was a drag, but the worst part was sorting everything, dividing it up fair for each house, repacking it, and shoving it all back into the trunk. Endless bullshit. The heat made it worse, sweat sticking to my skin, each bag of rice feeling heavier than the last.
And there I was, wiped out, thinking how just a few hours ago I'd been spread-eagled, waiting for Mariana to make a move. Now I was sorting pasta packages, like that's all my life was.
"This is hell…"
Pedro laughed, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I could be doing so many better things right now…"
Mariana shot me a quick glance, but stayed quiet.
The work wrapped up, Pedro left with his dad, and Mariana with her mom. Like expected, she stormed off without even looking at me, still mad because I'd pushed her buttons. But I knew that grumpy ass well—tomorrow she'd act like nothing happened.
I finished stowing the groceries, tossing the boxes, when I heard a yell from the gate.
"I'm coming in!"
The voice was unmistakable. Carla. Of course it was her. And by the sound of it, she'd already gotten over the ass-chewing she'd taken.
I laughed nervously. Carla and I still had unfinished business. After what went down in the laundry room, we hadn't talked about it once. But she strolled in with the smuggest face, greeting my mom with fake-as-hell sweetness.
"God bless you, Aunt!"
"God bless you too, honey... big time!" my mom replied, twisting her face. She wasn't dumb; she knew Carla was up to no good.
"Hey, cousin, I wanna talk to you!"
My stomach flipped. What did she want with me? Couldn't she just drop it? But that was Carla—once she wanted something, she wouldn't let up. She played innocent in front of my mom, but I knew that look.
"One enemy at a time," I thought, taking a deep breath to hide my nerves.
"Let's go to my room, cousin? I'll grab a towel and take a shower," I said, and we slipped out before my mom could sniff out trouble.
We barely made it to the room before Carla blurted it out, no buildup, no bullshit, like she was talking about the weather.
"Cousin, my boyfriend's obsessed with you, won't shut up about anything else."
The shock froze me in place. The blood drained from my face, shame burning hot up my neck. My stomach churned, heart pounding like I'd been caught red-handed.
"What?!" My voice came out thin, barely a whisper.
But Carla didn't let up, didn't notice—or pretended not to—the panic eating me alive.
"We haven't talked since that thing…" she went on, eyeing me, her gaze full of something I couldn't read. "Wanted to see how you were doing."
I swallowed hard. Now she seemed like she was holding back from spilling it all at once.
"I'm good, cousin…" I rushed out, trying to dodge the topic. "That day, I just acted on impulse. Forget about it, okay?"
She tilted her head, dark eyes gleaming with mischief, a sly little smile playing on her lips.
"Well… that's the thing, I can't!"
The silence after hit me like a gut punch. Carla dragged it out, real dramatic. I knew that move—she loved toying with me, keeping me on edge. My chest heaved, the air feeling thicker.
"He suggested something interesting…" she finally dropped.
My fingers clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.
"What kind of something?" I asked softly, already regretting opening my mouth.
Carla smiled. Slow, calculated. The kind of smile that always spelled trouble.
"We wanted to invite you to pick up where we left off… You in?"
The question hung there like a punch to the gut. My whole body went cold. Legs wobbling. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.
"Cousin… I… I…" The words died in my throat. "I'm a virgin."
Carla blinked a few times, surprised. Then she threw her head back and laughed loud, almost mocking.
"For real? No way! You're gonna pull the virgin card on me, girl?!"
She said it way too loud. Enough to make my spine freeze.
"Shut up!" I hissed, panicking, glancing at the door.
But Carla just laughed harder, loving my freak-out. I bolted to the door to check if it was locked, like turning the key would keep the sound in too.
"Yeah, fuck, I am a virgin, so what?" I snapped, trying to stand my ground.
"I just can't believe it…" she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
"And anyway, I'm seeing this guy now, so that shit with us ain't happening again, cousin…"
Carla didn't like my shutdown. The smile vanished, something darker creeping into her eyes.
She started walking toward me slow, and a chill shot up my spine. I knew that vibe. I'd taken plenty of beatings from her when we were kids. It always went like this: the slow approach, the intimidation, then the slaps, hair-pulling, and bruises on my legs.
My body reacted before my brain, feet backing up, hunting for an escape. But there was nowhere to go.
"Don't run…" she whispered, her tone enough to lock me up.
She stopped right in front of me, face so close I felt her hot breath on my skin. Her hand grabbed the seam of my shorts, tugging lightly, no rush, eyes locked on mine. My heart was drumming in my chest.
Then, out of nowhere, she shoved her hand between my legs. Hard.
I choked on the shock. My whole body curled up from the rough touch. I was filthy from the work, sticky with sweat, skin dry enough that the friction stung. But she didn't care. Her fingers poked between my lips, like she was hunting for a way in, like my reaction meant jack shit.
"I'm gonna scream! Get your hand out of there!" My voice shook, more fear than anger.
"Scream," she taunted, not stopping. "What're you gonna tell your mom? That I fingered your pussy?"
I shut up fast. Panic surged, hot and choking. What would I say? How could I explain without dragging myself down too?
"Stop, Carla… please, this is wrong. I don't like it."
And it was true. Nothing hot about it. I felt invaded, exposed. Carla had always bullied me, and now she was just switching up the harassment.
I tried to twist away, but she was stronger. Her body blocked me in, hand wedged between my thighs, and I felt… small. Like when I was a kid, when she'd steal my toys, shove me in the yard, and laugh while I cried.
"Look at this…" she murmured, voice almost soft, like she was soothing me. "I'm just gonna hit that little button to wake up the slut inside you and ask again."
That's when, for some reason, I found it funny. The way she said it, that weird seriousness in those dumb words… I laughed.
And when I laughed, all the fear drained out.
"Get your hand out of there, fuck," I said again, but calmer now.
And, surprisingly, she did.
But before I could catch my breath, she brought her finger to her nose and sniffed.
"Stinky pussy, cousin… You don't wash this thing, Larissa?"
My face burned.
"Fuck, I was loading, unloading, and sorting groceries, damn it!"
I could've explained better. Could've said that before all this, I'd been tangled up in other stuff that added to that funky smell. But Carla didn't need to know that.
She laughed. That nasty laugh of hers, full of something I couldn't pin down.
I swallowed hard. My body was still shaking, but I had to get out of this with some dignity.
"Carla…" I took a deep breath. "I'll think about it, okay? When I decide, I'll let you know."
She eyed me for a second, like she was weighing my words. And for the first time, she seemed okay with it.