Perfect Chemistry

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The smell of August in Colorado is definitely different from the smell in Illinois. I shake out my new, short hairstyle, not even bothering to smooth the frizzies down as I attempt to unpack boxes in my dorm room at the university.

My roommate, Lexie, is from Arkansas. She’s like a little pixie, short and sweet; she could definitely pass for one of Tinkerbell’s descendents. I swear I’ve never seen her frown. Sierra, at the University of Illinois, wasn’t so lucky with her roommate, Dara. The girl has divided the closet and room into separate quarters and gets up at 5:30 a.m. every day (even weekends) to work out in their dorm room. Sierra is miserable, but she’s spending most of her time in Doug’s dorm room so it’s not too bad.

“Ya sure you don’t want t’go with us?” Lexie asks me, her Southern drawl flowing from each word. She’s going with a bunch of other freshman girls to the quad, where there’s some kind of welcome party.

“I’ve got to finish unpacking, then I’m going to see my sister. I promised her I’d visit as soon as I unpacked.”

“Okay,” Lexie says, pulling out and trying on clothes to get the “perfect look” for tonight. When she finds an outfit, she fixes her hair and touches up her makeup. It makes me think of the old me, the one who tried so hard to meet everyone’s expectations.

When Lexie leaves a half hour later, I sit on my bed and pull out my cell phone. Flipping it open, I stare at the picture of Alex and me. I hate myself for having the urge to look at it. So many times I’ve tried to force myself to delete the pictures, erase the past. But I can’t.

I reach into my desk drawer and pull out Alex’s bandanna, fresh and clean and folded up neatly into a square. I touch the smooth material, remembering when Alex gave it to me. To me, it doesn’t represent the Latino Blood. It represents Alex.

My cell rings, bringing me back to the present. It’s someone from Sunny Acres. When I answer it, a woman’s voice is on the other end of the line.

“Is this Brittany Ellis?”

“Yes.”

“This is Georgia Jackson, from Sunny Acres. Everything is just fine with Shelley, but she wanted to know if you’d be here before or after dinner.”

I look at my watch. It’s four thirty. “Tell her I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’m leaving now.”

After I hang up, I place the bandanna back in my desk drawer and shove the phone into my purse.

Taking the bus to the other side of town doesn’t take long, and before I know it I’m walking toward the lounge at Sunny Acres where the receptionist said my sister was.

I spot Georgia Jackson first. She’s been the link between Shelley and me when I call to ask about her every few days. Her friendly and warm welcome greets me.

“Where’s Shelley?” I ask, scanning the room.

“Playing checkers, as usual,” Georgia says, pointing to the corner. Shelley isn’t facing me, but I recognize the back of her head and her wheelchair.

She’s squealing, a hint that she won the game.

As I get closer to her, I catch a glimpse of who’s playing against her. The dark hair should have been a clue that my life is about to be turned upside down, but it doesn’t fully register. I freeze.

It can’t be. My imagination must be going berserk.

But when he turns around and those familiar dark eyes pierce mine, reality zings up my spine like a lightning bolt.

Alex is here. Ten steps away from me. Oh, God, every feeling I’ve ever had for him comes rushing back like a tidal wave. I don’t know what to do or say. I turn back to Georgia, wondering if she knew Alex was here. One look at her hopeful face tells me she did.

“Brittany’s here,” I hear him tell Shelley before he stands and carefully turns her wheelchair around so she can face me.

Like a robot, I walk toward my sister and wrap her in a hug. When I release her, Alex is standing in front of me, wearing khaki chinos and a blue-checkered button-down shirt. I can only stare at him, my stomach doing weird flip-flops, making me queasy. The world recedes at the edges, and all I can see is him.

I finally find my voice. “A-Alex . . . ? W-what are you doing here?” I ask, all tongue-tied.

He shrugs. “I promised Shelley a rematch, didn’t I?”

We stand here, staring at each other, some invisible force keeping me from looking away. “You came all the way to Colorado to play checkers with my sister?”

“Well, that’s not the only reason. I’m goin’ to college here. Mrs. P. and Dr. Aguirre helped me get a GED after I quit the Blood. I sold Julio. I’m workin’ at the student union and takin’ out loans.”

Alex? In college? His shirtsleeves, neatly buttoned at his wrists, hide most of his Latino Blood tattoos. “You quit? I thought you said it was too dangerous to quit, Alex. You said people who try to get out die.”

“I almost did. If it weren’t for Gary Frankel, I probably wouldn’t have made it. . . .”

“Gary Frankel?” The nicest, geekiest guy in school? For the first time I scan Alex’s face and see a faint, new scar above his eye and nasty ones by his ear and neck. “Oh, God! W-what did they d-do to you?”

He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His eyes are intense and dark, like they were the first time I noticed him in the parking lot that first day of school senior year. “It took me a long time to realize I needed to fix everythin’. The choices I made. The gang. Bein’ beaten to within an inch of my life and branded like cattle was nothin’ compared to losin’ you. If I could take back every word I said in the hospital, I would. I thought if I pushed you away, I’d be protectin’ you from what happened to Paco and my dad.” He looks up and his eyes pierce mine. “I’ll never push you away again, Brittany. Ever. I swear.”

Beaten? Branded? I’m feeling sick to my stomach and tears sting my eyes.

“Shh.” He puts his arms around me, rubbing his hands across my back. “It’s all right. I’m okay,” he chants over and over again, his voice catching.

He feels good. This feels good.

He rests his forehead against mine. “You need to know somethin’. I agreed to the bet because deep down I knew that if I got emotionally involved, it’d kill me. And it nearly did. You were the one girl who made me risk everythin’ for a future worth havin’.” He straightens and takes one step back to look me in the eye. “I’m so sorry. Mujer, tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. If it’ll make you happy for me to leave you alone for the rest of your life, say the word. But if you still want me, I’ll do my best to be this. . . .” He gestures to his clothes. “How can I prove to you I’ve changed?”

“I’ve changed, too,” I tell him. “I’m not the girl I was before. And I’m sorry, but those clothes . . . they’re not you.”

“It’s what you want.”

“You’re wrong, Alex. I want you. Not a fake image. I definitely prefer you in jeans and a T-shirt, because that’s who you are.”

He looks down at his attire and chuckles. “You’re right.” He looks back up at me. “You once said you loved me. Do you still?”

My sister is watching this exchange between us. She smiles warmly at me, giving me the strength to tell him the truth. “I never stopped loving you. Even when I tried desperately to forget you, I couldn’t.”

He lets out a long, slow breath and rubs his forehead in relief. His eyes look glassy, filled with emotion. I feel my own eyes welling up again and I gather a handful of his shirt in my fist. “I don’t want to fight all the time, Alex. Dating should be fun. Love should be good.” I’m pulling him toward me. I want his lips on mine. “W-will it ever be good for us?”

Our lips almost touch before he pulls away from me, but then he—

Oh. My. God.

He kneels on one knee before me, holds my hands in his, and my heart skips more than a few beats. “Brittany Ellis, I’m goin’ to prove to you I’m the guy you believed in ten months ago, and I’m gonna be the successful man you dreamed I could be. My plan is to ask you to marry me four years from now, the day we graduate.” He cocks his head as his voice takes on a more playful tone. “And I guarantee you a lifetime of fun, probably one with no lack of fightin’, for you are one passionate mamacita . . . but I definitely look forward to some great make-up sessions. Maybe one day we can even go back to Fairfield and help make it the place my dad always hoped it would be. You, me, and Shelley. And any other Fuentes or Ellis family member who wants to be a part of our lives. We’ll be one big, crazy Mexican-American family. What do you think? Mujer, you own my soul.”

I can’t help but smile as I swipe a lone tear trailing down my cheek. How can I not be crazy in love with this guy? Time away from him didn’t change anything. I can’t deny him another chance. That would be denying myself.

Time to take the risk, to trust once again.

“Shelley, you think she’ll take me back?” Alex asks her, his hair dangerously close to her fingers. She doesn’t pull his hair . . . just pats his head gently. I feel the tears running down my cheeks at full speed.

“Yeah!” Shelley yells with a goofy, gummy grin. She looks happier and more content than she’s been in a long time. Both of my favorite people are with me right here; what more could I ask for?

“What’s your major?” I ask.

Alex flashes me his you-can’t-resist-me smile. “Chemistry. And yours?”

“Chemistry.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Kiss me so we can see if we still have it. ’Cause you own my heart, my soul, and everything else in between.”

His lips finally sear mine, more powerful than ever before.

Wow. The solar system is finally in alignment, and I got my Do Over without even asking for it.