Write Your Own Song

Chapter 22

Angel heard her before he'd even laid eyes on her.

She was screaming at some poor guy at a party a couple of his friends were throwing in an abandoned warehouse downtown. The guy was Jimmy Malone, if Angel wasn't mistaken. The kid was a small time wannabe who wore his jeans halfway down his ass and walked with that swagger that usually got white kids around there stomped on by the real hoods of Central High. How this shithead had lasted more than a week walking and talking like fucking Tupac was his homeboy was beyond him; but it looked like his days were numbered if his loudmouthed bitch of a girlfriend had anything to say about it.

Damn, she was fine – all tricked out curves and fiery passion. He'd never seen anyone like her – certainly not in his neighborhood or in the halls at school. She must be new. Her accent was thick, like she hadn't been in the states long, and she didn't seem to know anyone beyond Jimmy. Well, after tonight she wouldn't be a nobody. Half the party was staring and the other half would hear about it tomorrow at school after they'd sobered up enough to process more than how much money they owed their drug dealers and how many times to pump the keg in order to draw a cupful.

Poor Jimmy couldn't sink any further back into the couch if he tried. She wasn't hitting him, but her finger was jabbing so hard into his chest that she'd probably draw blood eventually. Shit, half the stuff she was shouting was in Spanish - she could be hollering her grocery list at the guy for all he knew.

Angel was leaning against the wall, watching the argument play out in front of him. It was better than the rap videos Tiny had playing on the shitty TV next to him. Taking a sip of his beer to hide his grin, he silently cheered the broad on. She finished in style – throwing a cup of beer in Jimmy's face and screeching a couple of choice words that Angel had no trouble understanding despite not knowing a lick of Spanish. Dude was fucked. Dude was fucked up good.

Her work done for the night, she stormed out the door, slamming it so hard that the cinderblock walls shook. Jimmy just sat there, like she'd sucked out his soul and left an empty husk behind. After a beat or two, everyone looked away from him, like being a loser might be contagious if you stared too long. Conversations began to slowly pick back up and someone turned up the TV, filling the room with an old Michael Jackson song. Angel spared Jimmy one last glance before heading for the door.

He had no idea what made him do it, what made him follow her – gut instinct, maybe. Shit, if he was honest with himself, he'd admit that what pulled him toward her was definitely in the general vicinity of his guts, just a bit more south. Gut instinct or not, she turned him on and he'd never felt such a strong attraction to a woman before. So he let his dick do the thinking – wouldn't be the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

He found her easily – she was waiting at the bus stop. Her wait was going to be a long one; the next bus wasn't due to arrive for another forty-five minutes. He hated the bus with a passion, but being fifteen meant he was at the mercy of his two older brothers. They both gave lame reasons for not being able to chauffer his ass around town that night, so it was the bus or nothing. But luck was on his side and he managed to hotwire a Corvair a couple of blocks from his house – not the finest piece of machinery in the world, but when you're desperate, anything would do. The only thing missing was someone to fill the passenger seat and he had a feeling that was one problem he was about to find the solution for.

She glared at him as he approached. "What do you want?" she asked, the words had bite to them, but her Puerto Rican accent dulled the sharp edges.

He stopped where he was and held up his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. It ain't safe out here alone."

She laughed, a deep, throaty sound he could get lost in. "I'm perfectly fine. I can take care of myself."

Angel cocked his head to the left and smiled the smile he knew she wouldn't be able to resist. His ma always said his smile could melt hearts. "Oh, baby, I don't doubt that for a second."