I squeeze Brady’s hand and try not to cry again.
Brady
Since her hand’s in mine, I keep it there, walking her outside to the back of the building. A basketball court is on one side and a semi-indoor soccer field on the other. It’s closed in, with wooden bottom walls and Plexiglas along the top. The field itself is turf, and older kids are playing a soccer game on it.
Tori’s eyes are wandering, absorbing everything. She smiles. If she’d seen it last year at this time, when it was nothing but dirt and trash, she would have been frowning. “This is amazing, Brady,” she says softly.
I turn, hearing footsteps behind me.
Juan nods as he approaches us. “Hey, ese, who’s your friend?”
I introduce Tori to Juan.
“Hello, Juan.” Tori shakes his hand and smiles sincerely. Her reaction fills me with pride. I knew I could share this with her without any judgment. It’s just not in her.
Juan is a rough-looking kid. At only fourteen, he’s completely covered in tattoos. Prior to living here, he was running the streets of Tijuana in a gang. After his girlfriend was shot and killed, he came here to see Rodrigo, looking for a way out. Rodrigo didn’t hesitate to take him in, and he’s making real progress.
“’Sup, Tori. Nice to meet you.” He smiles his “I’m still just a kid” smile. He tips his head my way. “You bring her here to show her all the stuff you built?”
“Just showing her around, Juan.” I didn’t intend for Tori to know I had anything to do with restoring this place. That will lead to questions, ones I can’t answer.
“Cool, I better get back to the game. Catch you later, bro.” He flashes a peace sign as he backs away.
Tori turns to me, wearing my favorite smile. “You did all this, Brady?”
I shrug. “I only donated the materials. The kids and Rodrigo did most of the work. A few of my buddies helped out, and it only cost me fish tacos and a few buckets of beer.”
“How did you afford the materials? They must have cost a fortune!”
I was afraid she’d ask me that. This is one of the many things I can’t share with her. “I had some savings. No big deal. It’s just money. Can’t take it with you when you die, and these kids needed something. Sports can keep you out of trouble,” I'm lying and misery comes over me as I do. I hate lying to her.
Her blue eyes light up. “It’s amazing. Does your family know?’
I tense immediately. My insides rumble, and I’m about to be an asshole. “No, and you can’t tell them, either. What I do is none of their goddamn business.”
She looks up at me and tilts her head to the side in confusion. “They’d be proud of you.”
I shake my head. “I do this because it makes me feel good, not because I need attention from my parents. So don’t fucking tell them. They don’t need to know. Besides, my mom would use it as a way to brag and fill up her social calendar.” Truthfully, my mother does know, and thinks this place is a waste of money. She hasn’t got one shred of concern for these kids or what it means to me to do anything for them.
Fuck, now I’m being a dick. I search Tori’s eyes to measure how angry she is, but they look calm.
“Give her more credit than that, Brady. She loves you.”
“She loves herself. Fucking drop it, Tori.” My voice booms. Her smile fades and it hurts to witness her disappointment, but she doesn’t know my mother like I do, and if I can help it she never will. Tori’s scared eyes look up at me, and her lip quivers slightly. “Jesus, Tori. I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It was wrong. I would like it if you kept this between us, please.”
“I won’t say anything,” she says softly, her face woeful and bewildered.
I have to learn not to be so reactive when she brings up my mother. She wasn’t intentionally trying to push me, and I need to remember that. She doesn’t know. I pull her close, and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. She nods against my chest. I hold her close to me for a few minutes, afraid to let go for fear she’ll want to go home. When I do let go of her, she smiles and our minor argument appears to be forgotten.
When we’re back inside, I catch Tori looking up at the clock on the wall. Her eyebrows raise, and she looks around the room. It’s only six-thirty. I wonder if she has plans. I didn’t tell her how long we’d be gone.
“Is there a bathroom I can use?” she asks. I point to a door behind her.
“Thanks.”
As she walks away, I watch her. There’s a gracefulness to her stride that’s sexy as hell. Who am I kidding? Everything about her is sexy. As she slips through the door, I realize bringing her here may have been a mistake. I’m letting her get too close.
While she’s in the bathroom, I find Juan and tell him to round up the kids he knows need clothing. One of the best things about coming here is watching their faces light up whenever I bring them things. Sometimes it’s toys and books. Today, it’s clothing. They never seem to care what it is. They’re just happy to receive things.