Chapter 58
I spent two weeks locked up in the house waiting for the shitstorm to die down. If I'd known I was gonna be stuck inside like this, I wouldn't have done any of that crap, okay? I fucked myself over big time. My mom was in a panic, thinking that if I stepped foot outside, Cletus would send some thug to "settle the score." According to her theory, every deadbeat was only lazy because someone was covering for his laziness.
From what we heard, he wasn't even that pissed about my dad impounding his car. The real hate was aimed at me and Diana because of the scratches on his ride. We keyed it from one end to the other. The whole damn thing. Hood, doors, trunk. No mercy.
I don't give a shit. A sleazy guy like that deserves to get fucked over.
A couple days later, we realized the full extent of the mess we'd made. Some old dude showed up at the gate to pick up the car, all scratched up from top to bottom. He came with this look like it was a personal insult. My mom crossed her arms, stared the guy down, and invited him in. It turned into a shouting match.
"The old man's boy's car all scratched up! Who's gonna pay for this?"
"Ah, get lost! You lazy bum from hell! Get that piece of shit car out of my garage right now, or you'll be leaving with all four tires flat!"
My mom yelled back, jabbing her finger right in his face.
I was frozen in the kitchen, just my head poking out the door, heart pounding like crazy. The old guy backed down quick, pulled out his phone, and did the payment right then and there for my dad. My mom waited for the confirmation message from my dad before she'd let him go.
"Get that junk out of here."
Shit had hit the fan.
Mariana disappeared from around here. My aunt forbade her from coming over. No big deal... except for the longing that gnawed at me all day. She'd sneak away and see me quick after class, but we couldn't make out—we didn't do that on the street.
Diana? She vanished. When she bothered to reply, it was short and cold. The ditzy blonde ghosted me good and proper.
And it wasn't just her. The rest of the family bailed too. The only one who showed up was that disaster of an older brother of mine, every damn day, the creep coming to "give advice" and check if everything was okay—must've been my dad who sent him. I can't stand him or his wife. What a greasy bitch.
The middle one, who's older than me, stuck with my dad. That guy's got no interest in anything, so at least he doesn't bug me. Better that way.
And that's what went down over those two weeks—a weird silence in this house, I swear. I was in my room, sprawled on the bed, gossiping with Mariana on the phone. We talked about everything and nothing, and I was almost dozing off when I heard a noise from the kitchen. A woman's laugh. Loud, mocking.
"Cuz... I think someone's here at the house,"
I texted her, already slipping on my flip-flops.
I got off the bed, went to the bedroom door, curious. The sound was getting clearer—it was definitely laughter, the kind that pissed me off because it sounded too damn happy.
"I'm gonna go see who it is, I'll tell you later,"
I said, already heading down the stairs.
Her reply came quick:
"Okay, but tell me everything after! I'm bugging my mom to bring me over!"
I rolled my eyes and walked to the kitchen. And there they were.
Sitting at the table, laughing like they owned the place: my mom's young guy—that dumbass who thinks he's hot shit—and, to my surprise, Carla. My cousin.
I was crazy about her. She had this presence that filled the room, a way of being that made me feel small and fascinated at the same time. Pretty, with that drugstore blonde hair, dark roots showing without a care, and a nice body—I still remember her dancing funk in my room wrapped in just a towel with nothing underneath. Everyone said Carla was a "slut," and she didn't even bother denying it—she just smiled!
My mom hated having her around, said she was a bad influence on me. If my mom knew the shit I'd already pulled, she'd change her mind quick and say I was the bad influence on Carla.
"Hey, cuz,"
I said flatly, without much enthusiasm, trying to hide how uncomfortable I was.
I'll be real about her. Truth is, I had no reason to have a problem with Carla. What happened was that, kinda, my first time—like, real heavy making out—was with her and her boyfriend. I was more naive back then, didn't really get what was going on, just remember being scared. And the bitch even laughed after, saying I'd "figure it out," that I'd liked it. That left me afraid of her, scared and angry all mixed up. Ever since, every time I saw Carla, it was like part of me was still stuck in that day.
That thought hit me right there in the kitchen as I got closer, so I followed up with
"You disappeared, huh?"
"Yeah, Jully... things have been crazy, cuz. I was working at a store. You know how it is."
She replied, forcing a smile.
The kitchen felt smaller. I looked around trying to figure out what was going on. My stepdad with his perv face, eyes glued to Carla's legs, and her with that uncomfortable look—I'd never seen her act like that. She seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else.
"So what'd you come here for, cuz?"
I asked sharply, no manners at all, already guessing what was up.
"Well... your mom was supposed to fix some clothes for me. It's for tomorrow, but she texted saying it'd be a bit late."
My stepdad wasn't even hiding it. Staring at her crossed legs without any shame. I felt the disgust rising up my body, his creepiness and her trying to pretend she didn't notice.
"Cuz, let's go to my room then?"
I said, already turning away.
"Hey Jully, we're talking here,"
My stepdad protested.
"That's rude."
I stopped, took two steps back toward him, and looked him dead in the eye.
"You want me to tell my mom what's rude, uncle?"
He laughed weakly, straightened up in his chair, and let out that lame chuckle, like he'd been caught red-handed. Dumb perv asshole.
Carla brushed past me and headed straight to my room. In the hallway, still walking side by side, she muttered low:
"Holy shit, cuz, what a pain in the ass. How do you guys put up with him?"
"He was hitting on you, right?"
I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I opened the bedroom door and kept going:
"Come on in. Wait here with me."
When she stepped in, the sour look on her face faded and Carla turned back into the one I knew: cocky, full of herself. She scanned the room with her eyes, made a disgusted face like she'd never set foot there before, and flopped onto my bed, kicking off her sandals.
"Cuz..."
I barely locked the door—that was Mariana's job—and a million questions popped into my head.
"Those stories they tell about you... are they true?"
She sank into the pillows and laughed, thoughtful.
"Fuck! Just like that?"
She looked at me, adjusting herself with a curious face.
"About what? That I'm a slut?"
She paused, laughed, and when the smile faded from her face and she got more serious, she continued.
"Cuz, I said that stuff to scare you guys. It's not like that at all."
"You'd say you were going to the party and hooking up with three, four guys—I remember the day you said that clear as day; me and Mariana were terrified."
She laughed again, that laugh like she thought she was above everyone.
"Of course not, you idiot. And if I did? What's the problem?"
She flipped onto her stomach, chin in her hands, looking down at me. I'd already sat on the floor, leaning against the dresser.
"At most, I kissed two guys at the same party. That's it."
I'd done way worse than just kissing two people in one day. I couldn't judge. But there was this huge elephant in the room, and now it was about to start dancing.
"So... you know that day at the laundry?"
She started, cautious, and only when I nodded did she go on.
"That was new for me too. I'd never done anything like that."
I could have said a million things, but I froze.
"I was ovulating, you know? Horniest time... and you showed up. The rest you know."
"I know."
I wanted to tell her how I felt, I swear. But the words wouldn't come. Some stupid shame, a lump in my throat, urge to cry for no reason. I was terrified of getting her reputation and becoming the family disgrace.
"Carla, did you tell anyone?"
My voice came out like a squeak.
"No, are you crazy?"
She changed her expression, firmer.
"Cuz, I don't go around doing that stuff. That was just something that happened. And it stayed there. That's it."
Continues