Firsts Read online

  Since coming here, Brax and I are inseparable. It might have to do with the fact that he’s caught me playing Sy’s demanding voicemails. Now that we’re here, we do everything together, even the campus tour. It’s been an experience worth living.

  Azalea has cooked us authentic Puerto Rican food every day, and we've explored all over the city. Brax’s favorite part has been the chilè mango stands. I think he likes the food here more than any white boy. The first time we had it, it was a challenge to get him to try. Now? We go there once a day, and he eats two all by himself.

  I haven’t tried to seduce him yet. The time needs to be right, or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I’ve always imagined it to be Sy taking me the first time. Taking, not sharing. Brax would share the moment, cherish it, worship it, even. Sy would take, and take, and take, until there was nothing left of me. But I want that, to be reckless and carefree. To let him do to my body what I’ve imagined him doing all along.

  Yesterday, we stopped by The University of P.R., and I can say that’s exactly where I plan on going after graduation. We checked out the entire place including the dorms, and social studies building. I’m ready to leave Cape Hill and live my life without the baggage of what I’ve done.

  I didn’t always want to help substance abuse people, but it all changed after my first visit to Puerto Rico. When I was younger, eight to be exact. I met a man on the street in Esperanza. It was my first visit with Mamá, we went to meet her friends and older sister, Belén. My mind wanders back to that day.

  Across the street from the hotel we’re staying at, there’s street corn, and believe me when I say, I must have authentic street corn.

  We head over to get lunch, street tacos are Mamá and I’s weakness. Next to the cart, there’s a homeless man. Or, at least, he appears homeless. He sits, well, nearly lays on several flattened boxes and palm tree leaves. He wears a dilapidated straw hat, which appears to block out the sun. His clothes are dirty, not grimy, but almost like he could have been a mechanic at some point. But besides that, he looks like a normal, kind man.

  I’ve only eaten a few bites of my amazing food, when I notice him.

  He doesn’t ask anyone for money, and he doesn’t hold a sign asking for help. He only sits there with this perplexed expression and a sadness about him. Like a loss my young mind couldn’t possibly understand.

  I don’t know what makes me walk over to him, but I do. Mamá calls after me, telling me to come back, but I don’t stop my journey. Before lowering to the dirty ground, I straighten my dress. Then, I sit as ladylike as possible next to him.

  He doesn’t say a word. Not a “bueno, como estas,” or “hola,” he just hums peacefully, chewing on a piece of wheat.

  The man doesn’t give me any bad vibes, and usually if a person is depraved, they have an aura that makes me feel anxious. I don’t feel any of that while next to him.

  After adjusting myself so I’m facing toward him, I tap his shoulder, offering my few-bites-eaten corn. We don’t talk at first, we just sit there in the hot sun while he enjoys the corn. When he finishes, I notice tears in his eyes.

  “Muchas gracias, ángel.” He reaches over, kisses my hand, and continues humming a song I don’t know.

  When Mamá finally makes it over to me, she’s furious. She screams at me, telling me I could have been hurt. But when she notices the man, she quiets. They have a long discussion in Spanish that I don’t understand. And when we get back to the hotel, she tells me his story.

  You see, Jorge, the homeless man, he became an addict. His addiction cost him his home, his wife, his kids, and his life. I was the first person to treat him like any other human being. From that day on, I decided when I got older, I’d become an addictions counselor.

  And that’s why Puerto Rico is the place I want to call home. To plant my roots where I should’ve been raised. My roots form there, and to continue them is something I’ve always wanted.

  TWELVE

  LEIA

  “DO YOU THINK MY DAD will show up?” I ask Azalea that night. Silva works overnight in a bar, the apple doesn’t fall that far. Not really. I’ve been told the bar is his front to sell drugs.

  “No,” she replies with a shake of her head. “I think he’s too embarrassed for how little he’s been a part of your life.” He chose to be himself. He picked other women, money, booze, and drugs. Dad didn’t pick me when he could have. He didn’t pick us when he should have.

  “He should be, he’s never been more than a bio-dad,” I comment none-too-gently. But deep down, I don’t feel it. He’ll always be my daddy. The man who tried to be here. Until I was five, at least.

  “And I won’t fault you for feeling bitter. Just know he loves you in the only way he can.” She comes over to the kitchen table, setting down a single slice of flan. There’s a candle trying to stand in the center, but it’s too moist and tips to the side a little. She lights it and I make a wish.

  “It’s your birthday in a few weeks, and since you won’t be here, I figured we’d throw a small celebration,” Azalea says cheerily, bringing me in for an embrace. Her smile makes me grin in return. Brax comes in as she’s hugging me.

  “What’s this?” he asks happily, a lighthearted expression on his face.

  “She’s apparently having me celebrate my birthday early,” I tell him with a grin.

  “Yes! And I have a surprise later on, after you guys go on your tour.” She emphasizes with a wink. Apparently Brax is taking me on a lover’s tour that starts in San Juan. We leave in about twenty minutes. Our appointment starts in two hours, and it’s an all-day event.

  We eat the flan, pack snacks, hydration, everything needed for a hike, and head out.

  The El Yunque lover’s tour starts at La Coca falls. It’s beautiful here. The water is almost the only thing audible. The birds chirp in the distance, and Brax watches the wall with pure fascination on his face. And I, in turn, watch him. I love seeing him as carefree as this.

  I could get used to this, spending time and being untroubled together. Brax decided to book a tour with only five other couples, it’s more serene when there’s not too much talking.

  “What do you think?” Brax asks, stopping his staring contest with the huge waterfall in front of us.

  “It’s absolutely breathtaking,” I muse, listening to the water splash on the rocks below. It’s amazing how things as simple as nature blow my mind.

  “I’m glad we came together.” Brax grips my arm, pulling me into his embrace. He tugs my chin up, leveling our eyes. “Thank you for letting me come here with you, Lele. It’s been like a dream.”

  Why does he have to say such sweet things? Brax doesn’t wait for my thanks, he seals his mouth with mine, quite literally taking my words and breath away. His kisses are always giving. It’s such a different experience than with Sy. As he still grips my chin, a smile breaks through while his lips are against mine.

  “Thank you,” I say. Behind my words is so much more than the kiss. It’s a thank you for being patient, an appreciation for choosing a woman split in half by two people, and unending gratitude for loving me regardless of it all. Our tour guide interrupts us, asking us to take some photos before we leave.

  After we spend about five or so more minutes taking pictures of the waterfall, the rock formations, and us in front of it, we head to the Yokahu tower.

  It’s a beautiful tower in the middle of the forest. Brax taps my shoulder, weaving us through the people standing, gaping at the castle-like structure. It reminds me of one of those old lighthouses only seen in the movies.

  “Look!” Brax yells from ahead of me. Reach the top of the twisting set of stairs, an entire forest and mountains are laid out ahead. It’s absolutely stunning to see this much greenery. In Cape Hill, it’s practically a desert in the middle of a crater. Out here, it’s luscious and vibrant.

  “Wow,” I barely utter, awed and stunned stupid at the sight. I’ve never been up here. And it’s such a sight.

/>   “I know.”

  “I never thought I’d be somewhere like this, not in my lifetime,” I tell him before thinking about it. Brax steps in my line of sight, cupping my face in his big hands.

  “I’d take you anywhere, baby.” He places the softest kiss on my nose. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, no matter how insane, absurd, or downright crazy it is. In the end, I'd be with my best friend, and that’s all that truly matters.”

  Emotion eats at me, reminding me what kind of person I’ve become. It makes sure I know how unfair I’m being to Brax. That I can’t keep my mind or heart too far from the other side of the country, to the man that’ll never be truly mine. I lean my forehead against his, cherishing the closeness, and not understanding how my heart can beat for two men at the same time.

  Love is strange, and it never makes itself clear. It’s merciless in its taking, and no one truly survives the battles we believe we’ve won. My only concern is the fallout between the two men I’m not sure how to live without. I close my eyes as a single tear trickles down my face. Brax is the first to pull back.

  When we separate, we take some more photos, and are distracted by the couple next to us. They’re discussing the options of becoming swingers. We laugh as they try to list the pros and cons of sharing their bed with others. The things you hear while on vacation…

  La mina trailhead is directly after our stop at the tower, it’ll take us to La Mina falls. There’s a swimming area Brax has been dying to take me to. By the time we make it there, we’ve already been hiking for hours. It’s such a fun experience, and I there's no one I’d rather spend it with.

  After we swim at the falls for an hour or so, the shuttles pick us up from off the original trailhead, and we head back home.

  ***

  I TAKE AN EXTREMELY COLD shower as soon as we’re back. It’s muggy as hell out here. It’s not warmer than home, but it sure feels like I’m drinking water every time I breathe. I’m used to the dry heat, and actually prefer it. The weather has made my hair puffier than usual. And the shower won’t do me any favors, that’s for sure.

  When I'm finished, I blow-dry my hair, straighten it, curl it, and prepare for the activities. By prepare, I slip on the saucy lingerie set and a classic dress that I’ll be able to dance in.

  Azalea told me we’re going for traditional, and holding a family celebration. There’ll be food—lots of it, alcohol, dancing, embarrassing stories about Dad and Mamá. Sy’s family is even coming. Azalea’s inviting all of Dad’s side and even inviting abuelita and abuelo. I’m so nervous, and they probably won’t even show up.

  Brax is dressed fancy when I make my way downstairs. He can’t see me, the tall pillars block me from his hind of sight. But I see him, boy, do I see him. He’s wearing a traditional guayabera and dress slacks. I can’t say I thought it’d be as attractive as it is, but I digress. It’s even unbuttoned halfway and shows his insanely chiseled chest. Licking my lips, I give him a sultry wink. One that promises, tonight.

  His eyes widen, but I don’t think it’s from my expression. I’ve moved around the pillars, showing my dress. One I’d probably never wear in Arizona. It’s sensual, the slit goes nearly to my hip, and it’s something you’d wear to a fancy evening out with a man. But I’d wanted to impress Brax—to show him I’m ready for the next step with us.

  I watch as he gazes at my heeled feet, all the way to my lips, stopping along the way. He’s undressing me, and it makes me feel dominant—beautiful even.

  He finally makes his way to me, bringing me in for a long kiss. His tongue teases mine, and it makes me weak with need. There’s something we share whenever our bodies touch, and I love it. And I think he does too.

  A throat clears from behind me, and when I turn to see who interrupted us, I face my dad.

  “Daddy?” I nearly cry. No matter how much I pretend to hate the bastard, I miss him so fucking much. He stands there all Adonis-like. When he smiles, it takes over his entire face. He’s grown his beard a bit since the last time I saw him, and he looks even bulkier if that’s at all possible.

  I jump into his open arms, hugging him for dear life while he spins me in a circle. “I can’t believe you came!” I squeal, unable to control the relief and joy in my voice. There’s something about seeing him after the long gaps, and how he smiles at me. It’s like he never abandoned me in the first place.

  “Of course, niña. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” his strong and emotional voice brings tears to my eyes. He never seems emotional. A rock in the middle of the ocean, has more emotion than my dad. I laugh at myself, crying and emotional, overjoyed that my dad is here for me. He came. For the first time in years, he came for me.

  As he’s twirling me around and enjoying my presence as much as I am him, I hear my Mamá. “You best be putting her down, Danté.” Her command is strong and not as small as it used to be while around him. She’s not messing around, and I don’t know why she won’t allow me to enjoy this moment with him.

  “Mamá, what’re you doing here?” I question as Dad sets me down. She eyes me, her face scrunched in obvious displeasure.

  “I thought Sy and I would join in on the celebration.” Fuck. As she’s finishing her sentence, Dad is growling at her mention of Sy, who sidesteps around her. “Mi corazoncito,” he practically purrs. And then my father is putting himself between Silas and me.

  “No te acerques a mi hija, hijo de puta!” he rages, his face mere inches from Sy. Did I miss something? Does Dad know what we've done? Has Sy told people about us? There’s no us to tell, right?

  My stomach churns. I don’t even know what to say to either of them. I peer around Dad to find him glaring at Mamá and Silas. Mamá doesn’t respond, she just scowls back at him. Sy laughs, he fucking laughs. He’s gone mad, they’ve all gone fucking nutty.

  And Brax and I stand here like outsiders, like the kids in an awkward divorce. There’s some silent battle going on between my parents and Sy.

  “I—I’m going to go dance,” I hurry out, grabbing Brax’s arm. “Feel free to talk it out like adults.” I yell over my shoulder, while pulling Brax with me.

  “Wanna tell me what that was about, Lele?”

  “Honestly, I wouldn’t know where to start. Let’s dance?” He nods as if accepting my poor excuse, and leads me to the dance area.

  When I had my Quinceañera, I learned all the traditional dances. Brax will be in for a treat. In hopes of not scaring him with my knowledge, I start with a slow samba. Not surprisingly, he's not getting the steps. Giggling at his lack of coordination, I grip his neck and pull him close. The salsa isn’t too hard, so that’s what I decide on next.

  “Amorcito,” I purr easily. Immediately, I feel silly using a pet name, but he smiles at me, like I’ve finally accepted him as mine. “Hey.” I touch his chin like he’s done me on many occasions. “Follow me, keep your body loose, and feel the movements as I do them, okay?”

  “Okay, but when my two left feet makes us fall, remember that I warned you,” he teases and then leaves a chaste kiss on my lips.

  I start moving my hips slower than necessary, hoping he’ll get comfortable. His eyes light up, and I love that he’s enjoying this as much as I am.

  We start twisting together, he’s following easier, but still isn’t perfect at it. I’m enjoying Limbo by Daddy Yankee when my dad stops Brax.

  “May I?” he asks Braxton politely, shocking me. Brax waves him over, and he cuts in. When he grips my hand, he yells above the music. “Can I get a softer song, I didn’t get to be at my baby’s Quince.” The DJ, which is really just Uncle Fabian, gives him a thumbs up, and changes it to a song I’m not familiar with.

  “Baby girl,” he whispers, pulling me close. “I’m sorry for never being the man you needed. Or giving you that fairytale dance you talked about when you were a little girl.”

  He starts spinning me, making me twirl all princess like. My heart soars. He’s trying. He’s actually trying. When my eyes catch Mamá’s, t
here's tears trailing down her cheeks. She’s shaking with the emotions swirling in her eyes. But when I look at Sy, revenge and murder shoot out from his eyes. It terrifies me. It’s not something I’ve ever witnessed from him.

  “Thank you, Daddy.” I hug him close, ignoring Sy’s angry glares. We dance until the song ends, and it’s the perfect moment. When I finally look up at him, he has unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s everything I could have hoped for in a reunion.

  “I want to be around more, I’m going to be staying with Seph and Iago in Arizona." My eyes nearly pop out. He’s coming to Arizona? Where Mamá and Sy are? With his two right-hand men, no less.

  I hold back my tongue, and it’s hard. But maybe he isn’t aware of Sy and Mamá. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he gives me an expression I’m not used to. Determination.

  “I’m going to win my girls back. And Silas is going to leave. For good.”

  There’s no room for questioning, his demanding tone and straight posture says it all. He’s coming for us, and he’s not giving up.

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  “And stay the fuck away from Silas. He’s no good, mija.”

  I nod, and Braxton finds his way back to me. He pulls me close, we’re practically hugging and only shuffling side to side. My emotions are all over the place now. I’m not sure how Brax is aware of my emotional change, but he understands when no one else does.

  “Wanna get out of here?” I whisper into his ear. He pulls back, mouthing you sure? Nodding, I pull him away from me toward the house.

  As soon as we’re out of sight of all people, I jump into him, mauling him with my lips. He catches me, lifting me by my hips. He carries me down the hall to the room we’re staying in. Within minutes, my dress is lifted above my hips, and he’s trailing kisses down my body.

  He stops at my hips, revealing my belly and the jewelry adorning it.

  His eyes don’t leave mine as he kisses me. Brax’s tongue swirls around the metal, and in the dip of my navel. I’m squirming and moaning as he traces lazy circles across my abdomen. And his lips get lower and lower with each flick of his tongue. When he reaches my hips I groan loudly, arching into him. He bites me softly, nipping at my sensitive flesh, then he’s kissing it better.