Jesus Christ, I mimed to Val, who was grinning at my rambling.
“Vincent.”
“Yes?”Kill me, please.
“Have you been drinking?”
“What? Nooo… well… maybe a little.”
Shit, now I’d done it. What if you called my parents?
“Where are you now?”
“I’m at Valentina’s. Listen, though, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to make sure we were on for tomorrow, and we are, so, awesome.Adios.” I ended the call and stuffed my phone between my knees. Meanwhile, Valentina was busting a gut at my awkwardness.
“Val,” I huffed. “Why would you tell me to do that? That was, like, the worst idea, ever.”
“Aye, pobrecito.You should have seen your face. Hurricane season? Why would you even bring that up?”
“I was nervous.” But why should I be nervous with you? We talked all the time, even on the phone. Ugh, I hoped things wouldn’t be weird tomorrow. Whatever. I’d just act like I didn’t remember.
Val’s cousin Junior came by then with his friends and asked if we wanted to smoke. It seemed like a good idea, so Junior rolled a blunt, and we went around the side of Val’s house where her nosy neighbors wouldn’t see us. I was just taking my first hit when your voice rumbled like thunder from right behind me.
“Vincent.”
I fumbled the blunt, and Junior went diving into the grass to rescue it like it was a newborn baby. I spun around to find you looking huge and intimidating with your back blocking out the porch light and your hair framed by the golden haze.
“Holy shit.” My heart was racing. “You’re here.”
“Who are these people?” You quickly sized up Junior and his friends.
“It’s fine. You know Val, and this is her cousin Junior. We were just… um… yeah, we were smoking pot. Don’t tell Dad, okay?”
You surveyed Junior and his friends again like you were mentally assessing their threat potential. It was in the negative range, but I didn’t want to say it out loud and offend anyone. Meanwhile, I’m sure they were putting your threat potential in the upper levels. It was a vibe you gave off in times like this. Fucking lethal.
“All right,” you said after a small hesitation.
“Cool.” I patted you on the back, more to show everyone else you were harmless. “How’d you know I was here?”
“You told me.”
“Oh… right.”Details, Vincent.I turned toward everyone else. “Guys, this is my… Henri.”
You offered your hand, and they all went from hard, wannabe thug types to proper Catholic school boys with their “yes, sirs” and firm handshakes. Junior was literally holding a blunt in his other hand when he shook yours. It was kind of hilarious the respect you commanded.
“You want to smoke?” I asked. I sensed you were uneasy about what my parents might have to say about it. “It’s fine. We’re not going to tell them, right?”
“Right,” you said and glanced around again to make sure everyone was on board with that plan. We nodded vigorously.
If I were all sexy and experienced, I’d offer to shotgun you, but I’d only smoked a couple other times, and I’d probably cough up a lung if I tried, so I just took a small puff and handed the blunt over to you. It was kind of hot watching you smoke, the way your eyebrows drew together, lips puckered, cheeks pulled in, like you were sucking a…
Fuck. What the ever-loving fuck was wrong with me?
And then my phone started vibrating. My dad was calling me. I hadn’t realized how late it was—half an hour past my curfew already. While I panicked about what I would say to him, you calmly took the phone from my shaking hands and answered.
“Hello, Santiago, it’s Henri… Yes, I’m here with Vincent… I’m picking him up to spend the night. We have plans tomorrow… He forgot to tell you?” At this you raised an eyebrow in mock disappointment. “Yes, he is very forgetful sometimes… Okay, sounds good… Yes, you too. Goodnight.”
You handed the phone back to me, all cool and collected. It was kind of scary how smooth you were. There was complete silence for, like, three seconds, then Junior exclaimed, “Shit, bro, I need a Henri.”
