Page 17 of Violent Attraction
7
20 years old
I made her hate me.
Two years ago, I had a plan set to ask Isabella Morales to prom. I wanted to do it. I was going to do it. But I made her hate me instead.
All because a darkness engulfed everything that I was, and I didn’t want to cloud over her light with it. I didn’t want to drown the very light that made Isabella her own person, because that’s what I would have done.
So, I made her hate me. I walked into that basement and threw every single plan that involved Isabella out of the fucking window, because she deserved better than what I could give her.
The second I walked out that door, I became a different person. I no longer was the boy waiting for graduation to come, I became a man that wanted to embrace every last minute of his youth and forget that this was the life he chose to live.
A man that in the two years that I have walked through that door, has moved more drugs and more bodies than thought imaginable. And those numbers will just keep on growing from here.
Today though, for a few hours at least, the drugs and the bodies will not take precedence.
No, right now the only thing that matters is watching a certain brunette bella walk across her graduation stage.
“Why is it so hot? And if this is such a fancy school, why can’t they have this shit inside where there’s cold air flowing?” Camila’s little voice takes my eyes off the stage centered on the field in front of us.
“Hey. Language.” Why I agreed to babysit the eleven-year-old, is beyond me.
“You say shit. You say a lot of worse words than shit, actually. Why can’t I say them?” She has me there, doesn’t she?
I guess this is what happens when you spend a lot of time around a kid.
“I’m allowed to say it because I’m older. But you aren’t, so stop saying it.” I should really watch what I say around this girl, she’s like a parrot that repeats everything.
“But it’s hot,” Camila whines and I think if she was standing up instead of sitting, she would be stomping her foot. God, she reminds me so much of her sister.
“Suck it up,” I say, turning to her and trying to give her the sternest look that I can.
Camila’s eyes get all wide and sad and when she pops out her bottom lip and it trembles slightly, I cave.
“Fine. I’ll take you for ice cream after this, just stop complaining. And stop with the bad words.”
“Okay!” The sadness magically goes away and she settles into the seat next to me, like this whole thing didn’t just happen.
If Leo thinks he has it bad with Isabella now that she’s officially an adult, the man has another thing coming with Camila. She’s had the both of us wrapped around her whole hand since she was five, now imagine the poor bastard that she ends up with.
“Where’s Leo and my dad?” Camila asks a few minutes later.
That’s a good question.
I volunteer to be put on Camila duty because Ronaldo had something very important to discuss and needed his son to be present. Fine by me, I was more than happy to skip any meeting and grab Camila and make it to Isabella’s graduation early.
Now though, it's only about twenty minutes before the ceremony starts and Leo and Ronaldo are nowhere to be found.
“They’re running a little late, but they’ll be here.” I give her the best reassuring nod that I can but I can tell that she sees right through it.
For the next fifteen or so minutes, I check the time on my phone more times that I can count. Isabella might hate me for distancing myself from her, but I know that if her brother isn’t at the very least here, she will be pissed beyond belief.
It’s only a few minutes before the ceremony starts, as everyone in the stadium is getting ready for the graduates to come out, that Leo finally shows up taking a seat next to his little sister.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Camila snaps at him, not even bothering to look in his direction.
Leo looks at her with wide eyes, and then turns to me as if to ask what has gotten into her. I just shrug. The girl is just something else.