Deck held up a card withexacerbatewritten on it.
“To make worse or increase the severity of.”
“Right-o.” He held up another.Provocative.
“Intending to provoke, inspire, or arouse.”
Deck gave a short nod and shifted in his seat.
We sat on the same side of the Deckers’ dining table. An open bag of Doritos rested on a chair between us. An hour ago, I’d put Marisol to bed, and Deck asked if I could look over one of his English assignments. He had done a decent job creating his PowerPoint presentation onMacbeth, so we finished the small edits quickly. Afterward, he offered to review my flash cards for the gazillionth time. Deck always seemed down to practice with me. Maybe because he didn’t have to read anything, just hold them up. He would never admit it, but I also thought he enjoyed learning the words.
Whatever the reason, I never passed up the opportunity to spend time with him. With the beautiful boy who had teased and protected me since I was ten. For years, I had been attracted to him in a little girl’s way. And loved him like family. But now, as I saw glimpses of the man Deck was becoming—both good and bad—as he revealed to me the person no one else was allowed to see, my love for him had evolved into something more genuine.
Something withgradiations, frayed at the edges.
Something torn and stretched in certain places, stitched tighter in others.
It consumed me and burdened me in turn.
Because I got to see a side of Deck he reserved only for me. Even with his enormous family and how close he was to mybrother, I seemed to be the only one who understood that Deck’sI don’t care about school or anythingattitude was a front for being terrified of disappointing people. In return, he saw me in a way no one else in my life did. He knew how I played my part to get by in the neighborhood.
We kept each other’s secrets.
My longing for him used to stem from the way I felt whenever he was near—the stomach butterflies and wishing he would give me my first kiss. Those things were still there, but now it also sprang from the belief that I was his shelter from the storm, the only person he let his guard down for. He didn’t have to pretend to be hard for my sake.
That's why I was pretty sure he loved me back.
Because he let me see the real him.
I loved him despite the fact he and Johnny had been hanging out with Chi-chi, making shitty decisions and acting like fools. I suspected Deck had tried to bring Cruz, Eliazar, and my brother out of the situation. Tried and failed.
Deck felt like the black sheep of his family. His parents didn’t know what to do with him. He lashed out at them. María and Michael yelled back. Part of the reason they asked me to babysit Marisol all the time was because they knew that when Deck opened the door for me, his shoulders eased.
I wanted to put my arms around him and offer him that comfort, to reassure him he wasn’t alone. I saw what he saw. Johnny experimenting with meth. Eliazar’s parents close to kicking him out. Cruz’s family MIA for months.
But infuriatingly, he never allowed himself to acknowledge what had changed between us. Some misplaced sense of honor held him back. I knew he didn’t think he was good enough for me. But he couldn’t bring himself to stay away either.
We gravitated toward one another, but whenever we got too close, Deck got scared. He would hurt me. Pull away.
Like last summer, when we played around in the backyard sprinklers at Angelina and Justina’s birthday party. He chased me to the side yard before lifting me and spinning me in circles over the water. I screamed as he made me dizzy. When he came to a stop, both of us laughing, my wet body slid down his until we were eye to eye. Everything around us fell away. All the noise faded to a low buzzing. Deck held our bodies together, my bikini top plastered to his naked chest. He swallowed, and his eyes landed on my mouth. I was sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he quietly set me down and stepped away. No one seemed to notice other than Marisol, and I wasn’t sure how much an eight-year-old would read into the moment.
After that, Deck dated Daria Drysdale for a few weeks. He made a point of inviting her over to make out on his couch when he knew I would be there watching his sister.
Another time, we were watching a movie on the Deckers’ couch with Johnny and Cruz. Deck sat next to me, and during the movie, our hands slowly moved closer. By the end, his fingers curled over mine. But when Cruz flipped the lights back on, Deck pulled his hand away and stared down like he couldn’t believe it had happened.
Then he went out with skanky Mandy Ramos until Halloween.
He’d been single since then, almost four months. Although who knew what he got up to with girls at Chi-chi’s? I’d heard the stories.
All I knew for sure was that Deck seemed determined to stretch the invisible rubber band binding us together to its limits. As a result, whenever he snapped back into my life, it stung. Even as I welcomed the pain.
Like now.
Deck held up another card.Inscrutable.
“Incapable of being investigated, analyzed, or scrutinized. Impenetrable.”
He kept finding reasons to talk to me. Coming to the Center to walk me home. Meeting up between classes at school. Hanging out whenever I was at his house with Marisol.
