Boycotting Blue

07/Lou

   But we came too early.

   Late enough that I wasn’t able to actually see her body, but we were early enough that I saw them zip her into a body bag and cart her away.

   The scene is still clear in my head. An ambulance with the lights cut off. Two police officers smoking a cigarette. Mom and Dad clutching each other. Mario tossing a football into the air and listening to some rap song through his headphones. Daisy. In a body bag.

   Juan grabbed me because I was about to take off into the street to get to my sister. I didn’t believe it then. Instead, Mario ended up at a friend’s house, and I ended up spending a week and a half at Juan’s. My parents swept every detail of her under the rug. They hid her pictures, tore down everything in her room, and then redid the room she killed herself in into an exercise room. They burned her body, and they still refused to talk about Daisy. Like there hadn’t been a third kid.

   The only person who said anything about her was Mario, who had her name, birthday, and death date tattooed on his bicep, the words wrapped around a cross. Before every sport, he would kiss the tips of the fingers on his right hand—she was right handed, he was left handed—and then touch the tattoo before saying, “For Daisy.” We still talked about her occasionally, out of ear shot of our parents, who would freak if we said anything.

   Which was why I was surprised when I walked into the house and my sister’s name was coming across my mother’s lips.

    “What if Luigi ends up like—like Daisy?” She sounded horrified, and her voice cracked, showing her worry and her grief. I hadn’t known her to cry. Not at the funeral, nor at anything.

    Dad sighed, pulling Mom into a hug. From my position, they couldn’t see me, but I could see them clearly. Dad had his “nerd” glasses off, as I called them, and his smooth brown face was without a wrinkle. He looked stressed, though. “Lou is not Daisy; she never has been. Our youngest is much, much more reserved.”

   I wasn’t as close to my dad as Mario was. My dad still bought me things, checked on me, and loved me, but he didn’t spend time with me willingly. It didn’t really bother me much. We always had awkward, stilted conversation when we were together anyway. I was sure he couldn’t name a single favorite thing of mines: sport, team, color, song, band. He probably didn’t even know my middle name.

    Mom sighed, too, leaning against Dad like he was her anchor in the wild water. “I know, but I’m worried. She doesn’t even talk about boys… I wonder if I’ve scared her into being, you know….”

    It took me a moment to get what she was saying. And when I did, I wanted to run into the kitchen and tell them that I was, in fact, interested in boys!

    Dad laughed. “We would know if she wasn’t interested boys, Lorena. She’s just reserved. Think about what happened with Daisy—she doesn’t want that to happen to her.” He ruffled Mom’s hair as his tone became serious. “I am worried, though, about this new neighbor of ours. He seems to have taken a liking to my Luigi.”

   What? How did he even know that?

   “I saw them earlier today when I was in my office. I looked out the window, and the way he stared at her… it was weird. They only met this morning, I’m sure,” he continued, looking worried. “I just don’t like the way he looks at my daughter. He’s dangerous, Rena. And she’s too sweet.”

   Mom laughed bitterly. “From what I witnessed earlier today, our daughter can handle herself.”

   A little smile crossed my face as I quietly snuck past them and headed upstairs.

**

I felt awkward today.

   Usually, I dressed casually, t-shirts and blue jean shorts, Nike shorts, or athletic shorts. I didn’t care much to actually look nice, but I had tried today. I had put on eyeliner and red lipstick that made my lips look even fuller than they were, and instead of blue jean shorts, I was wearing a sundress, a light blue one that hugged my curves. My cowboy boots had been shined and looked nice and new. I felt like everybody would know I had tried for Blue.

    It took everything in me to walk forward.

    I still wasn’t sure if he wanted me to hang with him at school or not. I knew we were friends, but, honestly, I had known him only a few hours, and what if he didn’t want to hang out with me anymore? What if, after a good night’s sleep, he had decided I was lame as hell?

   I wouldn’t have blamed him. I was lame. Especially compared to his bad boy status.

   Somebody whistled at me. My face turned hot at the compliment. I was completely out of my element. I didn’t do sexy. I rarely did anything but… me, I guess you could say. I was awkward and shy, and cute. Not sexy. Just cute.

   I found myself nibbling on my bottom lip, and a little grin fought to overcome my face at the thought of Blue’s “threat” to bite my lip himself if I didn’t stop.

   “Hey, sexy, I know you wore that for me today.”

    I didn’t look.

    I could hear the foot steps behind me. “Don’t play hard to get, beautiful.” There were hands on me, pushing me against the wall. A white smile against chocolate brown skin greeted me. The boy leered at me, eyes staring down at me in a way that made my skin crawl. “I know you heard me speakin’ to you, pretty girl. Your mom didn’t run last night, so—“

    Blue appeared behind him like my knight in shining armor. He grabbed the boy and pulled him off of me, getting into his face. “Escucha, you talk to her again like that, an’ I’ll rip tu heuvos off, comprendes?” he growled, half of the boy’s shirt balled into his fist.

   The boy’s Adam apple bobbed. “I-I’m not afraid of you.”

    Blue chuckled. “You should be.” He released the boy and smiled at me. “Come, amiga. We have trouble to get into.”

   Man, trouble had never sounded so nice.

A/N: Comments, please! I need critiscim. Or words of encouragement. However you feel!