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Fate (Fate 1)

Page 7

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They all nodded at the same time as she answered their curious unspoken question. Vince didn’t miss the warning look that followed from Angel. Clearly, like Sal, he was sure none of them trusted him to hang out alone with Grace’s baby sister.

After Sofia explained where they’d find the koi food, they were finally able to move the hell on. Vince snuck in a peek at those long legs before looking up, and to his surprise Rose was smiling. Then she wrinkled her nose that cute way she’d done earlier when he first mentioned the koi. “Are you really such a bad boy?”

“No.” The word flew out defensively surprising even himself. Typically he couldn’t care less what anyone thought of him.

“You don’t look bad.” Her smile teased as they reached the pond. “Oh how pretty,” she said pulling a strand of hair behind her ear and looking down into the pond.

Vince looked down at the koi, but his eyes quickly made their way back to her face. She was a little on the plain side. That could just be because she was so young and wore no makeup; yet there was something about her. Sure, she was cute in a very innocent way, but it was more than that. He wondered if maybe it was psychological. Maybe the rebel in him was already twisting up reasons to piss his perfect cousins off for having such little faith in him. She looked up and caught him staring, so he smirked. “So I don’t look bad to you, huh?”

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. Again he noticed what the sunlight did to her light eyes. Okay maybe she wasn’t that plain looking.

“Well except for that tattoo on your forearm.” She pointed at it. “What’s that about?”

Fighting the urge to shove his hand in his pocket to hide the tattoo, he shrugged. “Probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“What is it?” She stared at it; her curiosity was even more heightened than it had been before his last statement. Great.

“It’s my incredibly stupid, temporary-insanity moment is what it is. It’s what happens,” he said as he took a seat on the rock bench next to the pond, “when you do weed with your dumb-ass friends.”

“You do weed?” she whispered, eyes wide open glancing around.

He chuckled at the innocence in her startled eyes. “Not anymore. As a matter of fact, this stupid tat is the reason I stopped. Of course I knew enough about the evils of drugs. I’d seen plenty of people in my neighborhood including some of my friends do some dumb shit because of it, and still like a dumb-ass I did it with them for a while. Then one time when we were all high, we decided getting these matching tats would be the coolest thing.” He shook his head remembering how the next morning he tried in vain to rub the damn thing off. “The next day I made up my mind—never again. I’ve never seen my mom so pissed. Well, up until then. I’m just glad my brother hadn’t been with me. That would’ve been bad.”

“What does it say?” She sat down across from him on the other bench.

He stared at it, feeling the same stupidity he always did whenever he looked at it. He explained the skull and bones was something they’d always tagged on walls—a symbol of their pact—brothers until death then the letters L.P. Locos just under it that was now permanently tattooed on his forearm. “The letters stand for La Puente.” Shaking his head again he looked up at her. She was still staring at his hand. “I only hope this is as stupid as I ever get.”

“I don’t think it’s so stupid. Lots of kids at my school have tattoos. Some are pretty cool. But if it’s something you would’ve never done sober, then I can see why it bothers you.” She looked up at him with a faint smile. “A lot of people do things they regret when they’re under the influence.”

He smiled back looking into those eyes. They kept changing shades between light brown and gold. “Something tells me you’ve never even tried alcohol.”

She shook her head, frowning. “No offense, but I wouldn’t do that to my body. I’m on the volleyball and soccer teams at school. I know what drugs and alcohol do, not just to your mind but to your body. No thanks. I’d like to keep my body just like it is; thank you very much.” Her hand traced the outer part of her thigh: the part Vince had first noticed when he saw her. Forcing his eyes away from the finger that traced that tone muscle up her thigh, he straightened up and looked in her eyes again.

“But it’s crazy how many people I know that do all the time.” She lowered her voice again like she had earlier, and he was glad because it made him smile, softening the intensity of what just watching her touch her leg was doing to him. “Not just alcohol, but weed. There’s a guy in my building that sells the stuff. The cops have raided his apartment a few times.”

That’s when he realized that as different as they were, just how the same he and Rose really were. For her to live in a building where there was drug dealing going on, her neighborhood was probably just as run down as his. The only difference was unlike him, Rose obviously wasn’t using the whole “victim of environment” bullshit he so often blamed for his issues.

“So you’re a good girl in a bad neighborhood?”

She smiled, nodding, and every time she did that smile got even sweeter. As usual, Vince tried his best to hide his feelings. It was just admirable that’s all. Yeah, that’s what he was feeling for her—admiration. And why not? He kept saying most of the girls in his neighborhood had gone bad so early because their surroundings made them that way. Here he had Rose: the startling, but faultless contradiction to that argument.


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