"Perhaps Botox would be of help. My lips hardly seem appealing."
"Megan, honey, that's because that lipstick does not do your face any justice. Consider a more inconspicuous shade, you don't want to accentuate your thin lips further," I state confidently, pulling small strands of blonde hair from my tight ponytail to frame my face as I stare into the mirror. "Botox is for self-conscious individuals. Women like us embrace our flaws- for we are blessed with rather pretty ones. Remember, what you might consider flaws, others consider their beauty traits."
Ashley sighs as she closes her locker door and turns to me with a sarcastic smile, "oh, Amora, if only you could share your confidence with others."
As I roll my eyes, a small satisfied smile stretches the corner of my lips, "I would if they could return the favor by granting me the time I spent building it." I adjust the baby blue skirt on my waist, to match the ones of Megan and Ashley. "Now, we are late already. Go ahead before me, I'll be ready and out there in a moment."
Dismissing them, I pull the matching baby blue tank top out of my locker as their white sneakers screech against the marble floor numerous times, eventually exiting through the noisy door and leaving me by myself. I roll my eyes when I hear them speaking to a man behind the door and graceful giggles emit from their mouths.
I've taught them well.
As a breeze of cold air brushes against my upper bare skin, I search through my locker for a sports bra, ignoring the sound of the door opening.
Huffing in frustration, I realize I forgot to bring a sports bra, so instead I decide to settle with the bra I have already donned. I reach for the cheerleader tank top just as warm arms wrap around my bare stomach, a soft breath sprawling over my exposed neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
I glance down at the muscular arms in recognition, a wide smile slowly forming on my face as my heart jolts with elation and excitement. My stomach performs a somersault when soft lips kiss me on the bottom of my neck and trail along my shoulder, stopping on my bra strap to pull it over my shoulder with his teeth. I bite my bottom lip as goosebumps arise on my skin, his hot breath running back up my neck and fanning my ear.
"Miss me?"
With a genuine grin still prominent on my face, I turn in his arms and face the deep brown eyes, crinkled in the corners with a wide smile to match mine.
"Nathan!" I squeal happily as I throw my arms over his shoulders and pull him close. He leans down into the hug, tightening his arms around my torso. His soft yet rough palms run along my bare back. "I didn't know you were coming!"
He chuckles into the crook of my shoulder and then looks as I pull my head off his sculpted shoulders to kiss him on the cheek as he replies, "it was a last-minute thing," he says as I peck his lips repeatedly despite his attempts to speak normally. His smile widens as my pecks move to his cheek and then pull his forehead down to my height to reach it with my lips. "I had some spare time and since I haven't seen you in a while I decided to come here and surprise you. Judging by the fact that you can't seem to abstain from spreading your lipstick all over my face, I'm going to assume you are happy I did."
Laughing in response, I smack his arm playfully before picking up my tank top. Just as I grasp the material, I let out a yelp when he grabs my wrist and pulls me in for a slow kiss, his lips moving with mine longingly. I smile into the gentle kiss, opening my eyes to find his deep brown eyes intent on my face as I pull apart slightly. Even though we have a lot of differences that keep us from fully committing to each other, the feeling of love is enough to keep us coming back for more and through his gaze I can tell that he loves being in my presence just as much as I do.
I break eye contact, ravenous butterflies scattering around in my stomach.
It's almost comical how confident I can be, yet when he solely stares at me with those intense cavernous eyes, it is enough to grant emancipation to the zoo in my insides.
"What is this?" He leans forward as he scans a picture on my locker door. I lean past him to have a look at what picture he is referring to as I pull the top over my head and fix it on my figure.
"Oh, that," I smile softly as I tighten the bow on my head, "it's the picture of us from the club we met at, remember?"
He nods slowly as he takes the picture in his hand and lets his eyes rake it, a satisfied smile spreading on his face. His expression almost looks victorious as he stares at our smiling faces as if he has achieved something he has been yearning for a while. After a moment, he looks away from the picture and glances at me, the smile still present.
"Come with me to the beach? Or an ice cream store?"
I send him a look as I pick up my white sneakers- deciding to change shoes in the gymnasium since I am tardy already. "I have cheer, Nath."
He nods as his eyes roam over my figure, now fully clad in my cheer-leading uniform, my heart jumping when I see him bite his bottom lip from the corner of my eye. "Right," he replies with a sigh, "it's important to you," he smiles in acceptance. "What about after? I can stay over for the night but I will need to leave early in the morning because I have a few classes."
I turn my head to him abruptly when he mentions his classes, "how is college going, by the way?"
He shakes his head in amusement, "don't change the subject." He opens the door for me as I strut in front of him towards the gymnasium. "I'll tell you all about it when we go out somewhere."
Frowning, I turn to him as I walk, "sorry, I already have plans for later..."
He furrows his eyebrows, "plans? What plans? It better not be with—"
"Shawn?" I complete his sentence absent-mindedly, "it's not. I'm going to the mall with the girls."
When he doesn't respond immediately, I turn to look at him, only to find him standing in place with his mouth agape and his intense eyes smoldering with fury.
"To go to the mall?" he muses, astonished. "Really?"
"Nath, babe, you know my parent's big event is coming soon and I desperately need—"
"To what?" he folds his arms and looks at me pointedly, "to impress some man?"
"Of course not! You know I don't need to go to such lengths to impress a man, anyw—"
His eyes cloud over and his posture stiffens, "Are you being serious right now?"
Sensing his accumulating anger, I groan in annoyance, "what is your problem, Nathan?"
"My problem?" he raises his voice, taking two steps forward, "my problem is that I came all the way here to spend time with you even though I have plenty of things to do and now you tell me you can't because you need to go to the mall! The mall can wait, I can't!"
Groaning in annoyance, I roll my eyes and turn to leave, muttering, "then you should have told me you were coming."
I hear his heavy footsteps quickly catching up to me, "can you stop being so fucking selfish all the time?" he fumes, "you're acting like a self- centered bitch. You know how busy I am with my job, studying and my dad's issues! I make huge efforts to see you and you can't make the damn slightest!"
Still walking hurriedly, I respond heatedly, "I have responsibilities as well, you know! Don't get all arrogant just because I am two years younger than you!"
"Well, then it's time you get your priorities straight because there is a big difference between responsibilities and recreations!" he shoots. I huff in response, placing my shoes on a bench just as he reaches me and stands in front of me, "you know you are not the center of the world, right?"
The silence that follows sends chills throughout my body, almost like every passing second as his intense gaze bores into my eyes is a scream of desperation. Nathan's fury doesn't settle in well. He is usually the patient one that tries to settle things through a compensating gift or a simple apology. His fear of being abandoned doesn't allow him to remain mad for too long, in worry that it might be fatal to our undefined relationship.
Yet, lately, his fury has been getting in the way rather often, causing our fights to intensify and feel like every peaceful moment together is as crucial as ever. His mood swings have been of worry and I've been wondering if his father had more of an effect on him than he realized.
"You know what?" he seethes, showing me the picture he was looking at earlier. He holds the center with both hands and tears it into two, ripping our bodies apart before letting it fall to the floor. "I am done with you, I had enough. Call me if you ever decide I'm worth it because I am starting to doubt it profusely," he finally speaks up, yet this time it is in a low and dangerous voice. Almost threatening.
Letting out a gasp of horror as he turns to leave, I stumble back slightly, his words hitting me like a bullet to the brain. Pain and anger stir in my chest, my fists clenching and un-clenching. Before I know it, I'm already hot on his heels and shouting profanities at him.
"You, asshole! I am damn worth it! You don't get to say that and just leave! You heard me? Don't you dare walk away from me! Come back her at o--"
The feel of a gooey substance spreading over my shoe and foot cut my words off. I look down, only to find my high heel shoes covered in mud. A shriek of annoyance and frustration escapes my throat as I look back up at Nathan's receding figure.
"You know what? Leave!" I shout at him hoarsely, ignoring the pain growing in my chest, "I don't want to see you ever again! I hope you disappear from my life! I don't need you anyway, pendejo! I have other people who care about me! I have... I have Megan and- and Ashley!"
Even to my own ears it doesn't sound believable. Who, out of all the people who know me, actually care about my well-being? A sob almost escapes my throat when I realize that I might have lost a rare one who irrefutably does.
He is almost out of sight and probably too far to decipher anything when a soft plead escapes my lips, in hope that he would return.
}{}{
"Dios mío! Ew, ew, ew!" I screech in disgust as I bravely keep on walking through the wide hallway focusing my full attention on the hideous disaster taking place on my designer high heel shoes.
I spot a maid in the corner of the hallway and lift a hand up to wave it at her, "maid," I raise my voice slightly, desperate to gain her help.
She turns to me as I speak, "get me a towel! quickly!" I cry out loud, desperate to get the chunk of chaos off of my marvelous shoes.
The maid just rolls her eyes and walks down the hallway to get me the towel. The poor thing is just so jealous. I step out of my dirty shoes and leave them in the hallway, entering my bathroom and rinsing my feet.
Suddenly my phone rings and I gracefully take it out of my white purse and answer it after looking at the caller ID of Megan Kamarow. "Oh, hey Megan," I straighten instantly so that I can walk to my room. "You would not believe what happened to me after you two left the locker-room," I sit down on my white bedroom couch with a dramatic sigh. She might have a specific matter she called to discuss with me, but that will have to wait. For now, I have important matters to speak of.
"It is Nathanael otra vez. Lo mató, te juro! Me estoy harta de todo, es una idiota! Lo quiero matar por todo lo que me dijo! No entiendo porque se hace todo eso a mi cuando yo no lo hice nada! Nada! Que quiere de mi?! Me va hacer una mujer loca algún día, te juro!"
"—Amora, you're speaking Spanish again—"
"Me estoy harta!"
"Amora! English please!"
"Bueno, okay, let's start from the beginning. Nathanael surprised me today with his presence, saying he wanted to hang out. I obviously had responsibilities- cheerleading, so I told him to fuck off. Though I did tell him nicely, I swear." I put my purse on my lap and search through its contents. "He got super mad at me for some reason that is beyond me. And then guess what??" I ask her but she hardly has time to answer before I cut her off.
"He called me a bitch. A BITCH! Me! The Amora Ferreira Santos!" I exclaim in disbelief as I pull out the torn picture to scan it.
She gasps at my words, "how rude."
"If anything, he's the bitch here. He even went as far as to take a picture of us from my locker and literally rip it apart like some kind of savage. For God's sake, I swear he has no manners!"
"I agree with you one hundred percent," she immediately agrees. She then lets out a reluctant sigh, "listen, Amora—"
"Then you know what happened??" I place a hand on my forehead with irritation. "I was rightfully very displeased, so one thing led to another and I accidentally walked right into a puddle full of mud. That idiot, it's all his fault, he ruined my brand-new shoes and now I'll have to wait another two weeks till an order of the new pair will arrive," I rant, annoyance clear in my voice.
"He's so sickening, I swear," Megan adds as if she is physically disgusted.
I play with my perfectly manicured fingernails with boredom, mentally going through the list of things I can do to get revenge on that unworthy boy. I huff in frustration when my mind keeps reminding me just how worthy he actually is. "Anyway," she begins, her voice uncertain. I catch a glimpse of my hair in the mirror and scrunch my face in disgust. "I called you because I have a problem. My dad--" I drop my phone to the couch and skip towards my walk-in closet. I glance into the draw containing all of my brilliant hair supplies. I grab a hairbrush and gently run it through my silky blonde hair, stroking it with my hand after every brush as I admire myself in the mirror.
I scan my upturned green eyes and small pointed nose I inherited from my mom. I cursed my genes for getting dark brown hair that is now long blonde balayage strands, reaching the bottom of my back. My round, full lips got me many compliments in the past and I was sure to use it to my advantage with the men.
I let the last strand of hair fall from my brush before I put it in place and sit back down on my couch. I pick my phone back up and press it to my ear, immediately feeling overwhelmed by Megan's unnecessary rant about her dad, that is most likely very juvenile, "he basically just threatened-"
I sigh deeply, "listen, I'd love to listen to your problems but I have some important matters to attend to at the moment. We'll talk another time." I place my feet gently on the cold tiled floor once more and stand up straight as I pick up the two pieces of the torn picture in my hand and focus on it. "Anyway, adios! kisses!" I kiss the air for the effect and hang up before she can protest.
I throw my phone onto the couch once again and continue to examine the picture as I walk towards the center of my room where my bed is sealed by a thin layer of see-through white curtain to grant privacy. I walk over to the right side of my bed and kneel down in front of the small nightstand, my eyes still on the torn picture in my hands.
I connect the two pieces to complete the puzzle of a man and a woman. A boy and a girl. The boy has a hand lightly draped over the girl's shoulder as she holds that hand with her own. They are both smiling into the photo and have a certain spark to their eyes. They look so happy. Well, we were happy.
Even though we were never in necessarily good terms, we shared unforgettable experiences. The days I dedicated to him were my happiest ones yet. I will forever welcome those memories with open arms and remember those days with a huge smile on my face just like I am now.
The smile won't disappear even if I tried and not even my pride will smack it off my precious face.
I then place the picture on the floor and grab the nightstand by the sides and push it slightly aside only to reveal a small door, the size of an arm. I reach for the tiny round handle and open the door. I pick up the torn picture and after one last glance, I place it inside before closing the door and dragging the nightstand back into place to conceal the little white door.
I then take a deep breath as I stand up and head to the closet to put on a comfortable pair of. I exit my room, the heel of my Nike shoes furiously thumping on the perfectly cleaned tiles. My eyes squint in response to the glistening light that is encasing the spacious hallway on full force from the high and wide windows that are revealed by the long white curtains. I make the final turn to face the giant wooden door and grasp the crystal handle, opening it with so much force that I think I might have cracked the wall. Papá will take care of that later.
I groan loudly as I realize that neither mi papá nor his workers are present in the office to be able to offer me their assistance. I enter the office anyway, in order to hopefully find some cash or papá's credit card somewhere under all these papers. I scatter the papers around in the desk messing them up completely as I search for a solution. I need to order the shoes again today or else they might be out of stock.
I suddenly hear a few scattered noises in the hallway, catching my attention. I perk up happily and walk to the entrance of the office to greet mi papá when I reach the hallway and scan the area I see that no one is there.
I roll my eyes at no one in particular and walk to drawers placed behind the open door to continue my mission. I push my hand into the pile of papers, accidentally dropping a few as I move my hand around to hopefully find something.
My hand lands on a flat and hard object and I immediately pull it out only to be disappointed as I realize it's a card stock paper with a list on it. I am about to throw it back into the pile when something catches my eye. At the top of the list, there is a title that says, "Targets."
Targets of what?
I examine the list of people:
"Harry Bolton,
Lauren Hal,
Leonardo Paisley,
Bruno Utterson,
Kayla Connor..."
Before I can throw it back in the drawer, I hear fast approaching footsteps of several men from somewhere outside the room. Instinctively, I step forward to check through the open door who it is but my heart stops in my chest and I feel the color drain from my face with trembling fear.
My father is at gun point.
"Where are the papers?" one of the two men clad in black clothes presses the gun harder into my father's skull. "Speak!"
Who are they? What are they looking for?
"I am certain I haven't failed to mention several times that I have not even a slight indication as to what you are talking about," Papa answers, as composed as ever.
"I see. Then do you need a reminder, to freshen up your memory a little?" with my heart pumping loudly against my ribcage I watch as the second man approaches my father with clenched fists and before I know it, he sends his fist flying into my father's nose and my hand flies to my lips to cover up a scream.
I watch in horror as my father's head reals back with the impact and groans in pain, blood droplets falling from his nose. My mind urges me to take action while I am still hidden and unscathed. The man shakes his hand from the pain of the punch and turns to the desk in a frantic search after something specific.
"Take him to his bedroom, there must be something important there too. I'll search here."
The other man complies and pushes my father harshly down the hallway, with the gun still threateningly pointed at his head. My heart races with fear for my father's life and I realize I might not have much time.
With shaking hands, I pat through my pockets for a phone before it's too late.
Then his eyes snap in my direction.
My blood runs cold as my heart stops its erratic beating and I feel time slow down. He glances at my hand and his eyes seem to zero in on it as I can't manage to move a single bone in my body.
He slowly grabs the walky-talky in his pocket and raises it to his mouth, his eyes trained on me.
"Daughter has target's paper. She knows."
Then it all happens so quickly.
He zooms towards me and that finally seems to trigger me because I bolt for the door and make my way faster out of the room, slamming it behind me to earn myself some time. Then, I proceed to run with all I have.
Adrenaline floods my system; it pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. The quick footsteps feel like they are only centimeters away from me as his desperate shouting echoes throughout the hallway. Jolting through the empty house, I soundlessly pray someone shows up in the hallways to save me somehow. I zigzag through the many hallways in hope of losing him in this huge house.
His footsteps are no longer heard as I continue to run till I get to the big entrance room and grab the door handle to open the heavy door with all the force I can manage before I run outside and into the darkening evening, my vision obscuring slightly. I circle the fountain of the big green garden and within seconds I am behind the tall black fences.
I don't stop running as I look behind me to see if he is on my tracks when I suddenly bump into a strong form and fall to the floor with a loud thump. My adrenaline surges so fast I almost vomit, I can taste saliva thickening in my throat and beads of sweat trickling down my brow.
My heart races faster as I glance up to see two me looking down at me with furrowed eyebrows, displaying their clear bewilderment. I swiftly get up in order to scurry away when a firm hand grabs my arm and prevents me from leaving.
I look at the big hand circling my arm and glance up at him as I tremble profoundly with fear. I try decipher his face in the darkness of the night with a shiver of dread creeping up my spine.
I look at him hopelessly still breathing frantically, "What could you possibly want from me?" I whisper, my voice broken as tears prickle at the corner of my eyes and threaten to spill.
He furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to speak, "are you okay?" His soft tone confuses me. He softens his strong grip on me. I scan their clothes, noticing they, in comparison to the brutal men inside, aren't clad entirely in black clothes.
"I-I..." My heart is still beating frantically in my chest as my brain struggles to calm my racing thoughts. I feel completely despaired as I take a quick glance at the house and they follow my cautious gaze but when they don't see the problem, they look back at me with confusion in their eyes. "A guy..." I breathe heavily, struggling to get a full sentence out of my mouth as I keep on glancing back to the house. "He's after m-me..." the tears start rolling down my cheeks as they analyze my face as if trying to understand something.
The other guy looks down at my free hand and notices the paper that I haven't realized I was still holding before he narrows his eyes at it. He takes the card stock paper without asking and looks at it carefully. His eyes narrow further and he seems to come to a realization. He shows the paper to the guy holding me and they both exchange distressed looks.
When they shift their gaze back to the house their eyes widen almost immediately. The guy grasping my hand tightens his hold on me to a point where I would have screeched in pain if it weren't for the sight I face when I look back at my home. My shaking hands go to my heart in a swift move as the scene unfolds in front of my eyes.
Now, not only one person but at least ten men dressed in black run out of the front door and head in our direction. I feel like my world is slowly becoming black and too unnerving to comprehend. I feel a tug on my hand pulling me, immediately gaining my attention and consciousness, dragging me quickly in the opposite direction of my house.
"It's not safe here, come with us," he commands while I try my best to match their quick sprints. The other man looks behind to see me struggling, "RUN!" He demands. I struggle with his request, my feet slipping and I almost tumble over, time I know I cannot afford. I almost want to scream for the man to release my arm, but the sole thought of being caught by those vicious-looking men keeps me running with all my might.
"Where are we going?" I breathe as I look up at them, struggling to speak properly with a gnawing pain in stomach growing with every second. It isn't pretty, nor is it sexy like it seems in the movies, reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save your skin.
One steals a quick glance behind his back, before answering, "right now it doesn't matter where we are going, it matters where we are running from." He speaks through heavy breaths, shouting in order to be heard over our stomping footsteps, "just run with us and when I say run, I mean run, because your life is hanging by a thread."
Those last words send me off guard but I don't have time to react as they pull my hand and drag me into the streets of New York.
Even though everything seems like a catastrophic turmoil, there is one thing running through my mind on repeat.
Am I ever going to see my father again?