Me: Whoa. Talking dirty to me?
Victor: And I want to lick every part of your body.
Me: Hmmm. Sounds so good that I’m already ready for you, big boy.
Victor: You’re killing me. I’m switching to FaceTime.
I laugh out loud in the empty room.
Me: You texted me first…at 5 in the morning. Good run?
Victor: Yes. It would have been better if you were here with me.
Me: You’re allowed to text or call me after 7am.
Victor: Haha. I’m going to practice, but I’ll see you at 4, right?
Me: I’ll wait for you at the campus cafe.
A minute later, I’m still staring at the messages.
I bite my lip. How did I agree to this? Victor can be very persuasive with his alluring lips and gentle hands. Yesterday as Victor was walking me back home, he asked if I wanted to join him at the rec center so he could show me some self-defense moves. I jumped at the opportunity. One day I want to teach self-defense to women so that they are empowered and can protect themselves. And as soon as I agreed, Victor said to bring extra clothes. Because… afterward we are visiting his mom, who will cook sugarplum hard candy. I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips against mine and the hot kiss that followed fogged my brain to the point that I agreed. Quickly. At that moment if he asked me to eat jellyfish, I would have said yes.
We’re meeting in front of the campus café because we don’t want to explain ourselves to Alek. But soon I’ll have to tell him. Victor and I are getting braver on campus. He’s kissing me, we’re holding hands. It’s only a matter of time before Alek or his teammates spot us. And I really don’t want to hide from my brother. I want our special sibling bond back. I need to convince him that Victor is good to me, that he is…my home.
I gulp as the realization hits me. Falling for Victor, loving him, is one thing, but knowing deep down in my soul he’s the one is heart-wrenching. Although I haven’t gotten threatened by Charlie lately, the thought of getting hurt by him still disturbs my mind. The thought of the uncertainty of the future is always there, not letting me move forward with my life.
But I have a plan. The bet I’ll place in Las Vegas will bring me enough money to pay Charlie back, getting rid of him forever.
So then why does my stomach painfully twist when I try to imagine my future life withthe one? How come I can’t replace the picture of my dream husband on my board with a mental image of Victor? My chest is achy.
My finger hovers over the keyboard on my cell phone.
Me: I’m nervous to meet your mom.
Victor: Oh, you should be lol.
Me: It’s not funny.
Victor: Sorry. I promise everything will be okay.
I spend my day studying. But every time I decide to work on something connected to my future, to create goals like getting a 4.0 in my first semester in college or getting yoga instructor certification by end of spring semester, I stall.
My brain refuses to work and the question, “What’s the point of doing all of this?” keeps popping up. And that’s why every time I think about Victor my heart aches. Some people go through life having never met their version ofthe one. But I’ve met mine, and I may not get to keep him.
* * *
“Hey, you okay?” Victor’s voice pulls me back. We’re stretching in one of the exercise rooms at the rec center. The glass doors of our room are closed—the sounds of clanking metal, TV shows, and grunting are unable to penetrate our space.
“Sorry. My head was somewhere else.”
Enough with the pity party.
I jump to my feet and shake my legs in an exaggerated manner. I crack my knuckles. Taking the hairband from my wrist, I put my hair up in a messy bun.
“Now I mean business. Ready to kick the Bull’s butt,” I tease.
Victor laughs and gets up on his feet. “I like the attitude. Maybe today we can focus on neck grabbing and how to protect yourself.”
