Chapter 13

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1999

My Spring Schedule:

Mondays and Wednesday: English Composition II and Public Communications (Speech)

Tuesdays and Thursdays: Pre-Calculus and Latin American Humanities

Losing the girls once more when they left was surprisingly easier this time and when I waved them off it was with smiles instead of tears. This is how it would be, I realized, even as we grew older. We wouldn't be essential to the day to day but it would be wonderful to see them when I did. It wasn't that I was detached from them, it was that I was my own person, with my own friends outside of them. It felt good. They still couldn't believe I had replaced them with a bunch of boys. I was honestly too petrified of Pre-Calculus to think of anything else. I was, however, happy that Victor and I would be in the same class. He was actually very good at Math and I sucked.

The next day, arriving to campus found me being greeted by a bunch of guys at the Atrium. I was officially, especially after the Alvin fiasco, one of the guys.

Jon was first, hugging me and twirling me around until I was dizzy. "Put me down!"

I greeted Steven and Victor with a kiss on the cheek along with other guys which I knew more as acquaintances. Composition II was again with the same militant professor but this time I was not terrified for my life. I had Public Communications with Isla whose hair was now with streaks of purple and she was in a hell of tumultuous relationship. I was also petrified of public speaking and the thought of getting up and talking to a bunch of people made me quake.

"Don't you want to be a lawyer?" Victor asked over our usual Burger King fare.

"Yeah!" Jon's mouth was full.

"Maybe a Corporate Lawyer." I ate my salad. "Where I won't have to fight with people in court."

"Now, that's where the money is," Steven said.

"What do you know about that?" Victor asked him with an annoyed look.

"I know one day Becka is going to be big league," he said. "Big time lawyer, gonna have a big-time husband, with a big-time house."

"I don't want any of that," I said.

"You don't want a big-time husband?" Steven asked and I looked at him.

"I don't know," I shook my shoulders. "I'm too young to think about husbands."

"Listen to me," Jon said. "Don't get married, Becka. Make all your money for you and then become a cougar and fuck young guys!"

Steven laughed and I couldn't help but grin and shake my head at his antics.

Victor rolled his eyes. "Why don't you let her decide what she wants to do?"

"Not all of us know who we're going to marry since we're teens," Steven said to Victor and I turned to Victor with a raised brow.

"What are you talking about?" Victor looked annoyed.

"Helene Sao not going to become Helene Manning?"

I was getting my period because my stomach did an awful lurch. Victor put down his Whopper and leveled him with a look. How did Steven know all of this? Victor was notoriously private about this life.

"Stop talking shit, man," he said.

"My girl Cynthia is friends with Helene, you know a town like this nothing goes by unnoticed." Steven held up his hands.

Victor glared at him then turned to Jon who looked innocent, but I could tell he was hiding something. Jon was the worst actor. Victor leveled me with a look.

"I know nothing," I said.

Victor took a deep breath, his shoulders encased in the tight blue t-shirt heaved. "Ok, so there are no rumors, Helene and I officially broke up. That's it. We've been talking about it for a while, but we finally decided it's best. She's in Dallas, I'm over here."

The table was quiet, but I stared at Victor. He didn't look sad, more than anything he looked annoyed that he had to bring it up.

"Well, shit happens," Jon said. "Now you're single and ready to –"

"Don't," Victor sighed.

"Mingle! So we need to party this semester like you've never partied before, we're going to get you laid four times before Sunday."

I became literally invisible as the guys planned their outing. Naturally, this is where our friendship veered, I could not go with them. Mostly because I didn't care for their level of partying and because I would hinder their plans. It wouldn't be cool to take a sister-like figure when they were trying to score girls. So I quietly ate my burger as they talked.

×××

How Victor had gotten sick between Burger King and the afternoon when we met in the library was beyond me. But sick he was. He looked pale and listless as he sat down next to me, his hair on the nape of his neck wet with sweat.

"Please do not come near me, you're contagious," I said.

Then he gave me the saddest puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen. "It's not a cold, it's my stomach."

He leaned forward on the table and rested his head on his arms letting out a low groan. Given the fact that I had a brother I knew exactly how this would go. Men were absolutely ridiculous when sick and Victor was on the fast lane of that highway.

"Ok, what did you eat?" Was I his mother?

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"It couldn't have been Burger King," I said but I remembered he had not consumed his usual amount of food. "I can't help you if we don't know what you have."

He raised his head slightly, his eyes bleak and watery. Pathetic.

"I had my shake for breakfast." He swallowed thickly. I had visuals of said shake ending up all over my laptop. "Wasn't feeling that good at Burger King."

"What did you have for dinner?" I asked and I was surprised at how soft my voice sounded.

"Sushi." He looked even worse at the mere mention of the food.

"From where?"

"Leftovers from Sunday."

"Oh lord." I shook my head. He looked at me fearfully.

"You think that was it?"

"Victor, it's Thursday. That fish was sitting there collecting all of the bacteria it could until you foolishly ate it." I looked around the library, we were in a back corner where we were supposed to go over Pre Calc.

He took a deep breath. "What should I do?"

"Vomit," I said and he looked as if I had suggested the assassination of a president.

"I'm not vomiting."

"You're not going to feel better until you do."

"I hate vomiting, let's not talk about it." He pressed his handkerchief against his lips. They were almost turning purple. This hardheaded idiot. I smirked as our eyes met.

"You know what I absolutely love? Pancakes, all warm and buttery, tons of maple syrup just poured over them -"

"Stop!" He grabbed my hand and his grip was super strong.

"Or tuna tartare," I whispered. "With extra sesame oil just chilled and gelatinous -"

And he was stumbling out of the library, rushing through stunned students as he scrambled to make it to the bathrooms. He made it back about half an hour later, he looked better but still weak and exhausted. When he looked at me, his eyes narrowed but I padded the chair next to me.

"You're a bitch," he mumbled.

"I know." I placed the ice-cold ginger ale I had bought him while he had been gone in front of him. "Drink it, it'll settle your stomach."

He looked at it suspiciously but reached out and took a tentative sip. He waited and then took another, glancing at me as he did.

"Did anyone know I was sick?" he asked.

"Yes, I told everyone," I smiled as he blanched. "I'm kidding, I didn't say a word, I wouldn't."

He took a few more sips, his shoulders relaxing but he still looked utterly pathetic as he laid his head on the table, his long arms dangling down to the floor. He blinked at me all innocent and I thought how much he looked like a little boy then. Without thinking about it I rested my hand on his back, his muscles surprisingly soft as I made circular patterns, soothing him.

"That feels good." He closed his eyes.

I smiled genuinely at him. He was sort of like a massive dog, he was loyal and he made me laugh, and I liked hanging out with him when the mood was right. Who would've thought?

"Did you come home desperate on leg day and ate whatever was available?" I asked him and he nodded. I had to smile, he was sort of cute.

"I was so hungry," he admitted.

"You know, your legs are already very nice," I said. "You don't have to kill yourself, just maintain."

He looked at me rather confused. "You think my legs are nice? I thought you hated everything about me."

I rolled my eyes. "If you're fishing for compliments, you're barking up the wrong tree."

"Not even one little compliment, look how bad I feel," he said and I let out a cackle of a laugh which made him smile.

"I already told you that you have nice legs," I said.

He stared at me. "You have a nice smile."

"Well, shit, Victor. I'm not the one vomiting," I looked away because I became suddenly very embarrassed that he, out of all people, thought I had a nice smile.

"Are you blushing?" His eyes, I noticed, crinkled at the corners when genuinely amused.

"I do not blush, I'm too brown," I snipped and looked at my notes. He'd had enough of my pity.

"You are blushing." He let out a laugh.

"Oh, you're awful."

×××

I joined the Hispanics for Social Involvement Club "HSIC" that Spring which, unbeknownst to me, would involve a lot of house to house calls to sign petition for whatever item was hot and important. This meant that I walked. A lot. My Latin American Humanities professor gave me extra credit for my involvement, so I figured I'd do it. It would probably look amazing in my resume. Around March, my Size 12 jeans were a little too loose on me and I realized that I had lost weight. I didn't even mean to but it seemed walking with a purpose was far more entertaining than walking in place. That's when I bought my first Size 10 jeans and I could not believe it.

"You've been dancing," Isla mentioned as she took me. I twirled for her with a bright smile. The jeans were quite slimming and I thought it made my butt look particularly pert.

"Nope, I've been knocking on doors," I said. "And this is the first time I've fit into size 10 since I was like in 6th grade."

"Just like that."

"Just like that. Social involvement does things to me." I sat next to her.

"You should join that 5K." She popped her gum.

"I'm not running."

I joined the 5K mostly because the guy who was taking names for sign up was very very, did I mention 'very?' Very cute. He looked like what a college frat boy should look like, his hair was a dirty blond and it fell over his eyes. He had a Ken smile of 100 watts and he looked me right in the eye when I walked to the table.

"Are you signing up?"

"I don't really run," I said. "I'm more of a spirited walker."

His smile was brilliant and slow. "A spirited walker. I like that."

"Yeah." I bit my lip.

"I can spirit walk with you, if you like," he said.

"Are you signing up?"

Victor had such bad timing, he bumped my hip when he looked down over my shoulder to the sign up form.

The guy glanced at Victor and then back at me. I shoved at Victor with my bag.

"Yes, I am," I took the pen from the guy's hand. "How much is it?"

"Ten dollars," Frat guy said.

I didn't have cash. I never had cash. I was addicted to my debit card. Victor knew this.

"I've got you." Victor was already pulling out his wallet before I would protest and now hot frat guy was going to jump into a very wrong conclusion. He shoved a crisp $20 at Frat guy.

"Sign me up too."

I turned to look at Victor with a tight smile on my lips. "Really?"

He looked at me with wide innocent brown eyes. "Yeah, why not?"

"Ok..." Frat guy slowly took the money from Victor. "Let me get your names."

"Becka Montana, B-e-c-k-a and Montana, like the state," I smiled at the Frat guy but I could feel Victor's eyes on me, a smirk on his lips.

"Nice," he glanced at me.

"We can still do the spirited walking together. If you like," I blurted and he, to my chagrin, looked startled. "Victor is far more of a quick runner, very quick. Didn't you do track and something else? You'd leave us behind."

"I was in football, not track and field." Victor was staring at me with annoyance.

"Whatever, there was running," I laughed. I looked psychotic. God, this was pathetic.

"Wait, are you Victor Manning?" Frat guy asked.

Victor sized the guy up. "Yeah, Colonial High."

"Hey, man, I played you in 97. I'm Jackson O'Malley, Orange Creek High," Jack extended his hand and Victor slowly shook it. "You were a Junior, but man you were good."

Victor's entire chest rose with pride and I was left standing between the two of them like a lost little lamb knowing nothing of football. When they were done back and forth, I cleared my throat and they both turned to look at me.

"So, the 5K."

"Oh." Jackson looked down at his signup sheet. "Yeah, let me register you, Manning."

I stared at Victor without pausing and finally he looked at me. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Ok, you're both set. Hey, Manning, my bad, I didn't mean to hit on your girl," Jackson said which left Victor and I both stuttering.

"He's not my boyfriend," I pointed with my thumb at Victor.

"No, just friends." Victor nodded.

Jackson looked from me to Victor. "Oh. Ok." He handed us a copy of our registration.

Then something stopped me and I turned and looked at Jackson with a smile on my face. "Wait, you were hitting on me?"

Jackson, who was standing now, smiled and shoved his hand through his hair. "A bit, yeah."

"Oh." Crimson. My face was crimson.

"If that's OK." His little side smile was everything.

"Yes, perfectly OK." I was gushing. I had not cool whatsoever.

"Alright, then I'll walk in a spirited manner with you," Jackson said.

"Ok," I lingered then Victor took my arm and pulled me.

"I'm going to take her before she continues being awkward," he said.

Jackson's smile widened and he waved at me and I stupidly waved back then turned to Victor.

"How dare you!"

"Calm down, I just saved you from staring at him with your love-sick eyes," he said as we turned the corner and away from Jackson.

"I did not have love-sick eyes!"

"Drool was forming here," he pointed to my lips.

I smacked his hand away. "Was not!"

He looked down at me and shook his head. "It's was obvious. Painful, I couldn't handle it."

"Then you shouldn't have come and interrupted me!"

"How was I supposed to know you had a game plan?" He glanced behind him. "What is it with these guys you like?"

"What's wrong with Jackson? He played football, just like you, he's not 26, he's not Clem, he openly told me he liked me, so what exactly is wrong with him?" I was toe-to-toe with him.

Victor licked his lips and side-eyed me. "He's not looking for anything serious."

I bristled. "That's hilarious."

"How so?" Victor arched a brow.

"Did you ever stop and consider that maybe I'm not looking for anything serious?"

His face hardened as he looked at me. "Now, that, is a lie."

I crossed my arms.

"You're not that type and you know it," he poked me with his index finger.

"Oh, please enlighten me, since you know everything about me."

He let out a long sigh and looked around, his hands went into his hair but he turned back to me. "You're like that girl you have to work for."

"I'm high maintenance," I said.

"No! No, it's like... god, I'm not good with words, Becka," he said. "So, if you were my girl, you're someone a guy would like to see happy. I'd want to do things for you like buy you flowers and call you first thing in the morning and final thing at night. And, you know, like order for you not because I didn't think you were incapable for ordering for yourself but because I'd watch you enough to know what you'd like. But you're also giving and most guys wouldn't appreciate that. You'd take care of him, like you'd know how he takes his protein shake and he'd be the first person you'd call if there was a problem."

He wasn't looking at me but I felt that he had stripped me naked.

"Anyone who doesn't deem you that important is just a waste of your time," he said and stuffed his hands into his shorts.

I stared at him for a moment and then I plucked at a dust in his black t-shirt. "You can be so fucking charming."

He looked down at himself and then back at me. "I'm no good with words."

"God help us if you were," I said and smiled at him. Slowly he returned my smile. "C'mon. You need to make sure I don't flunk Pre-Calculus."

I pulled him into the library and we went to our favorite spot, in the back, under the watchful gaze of the suspicious librarian. 


a/n: I'm really hoping that you all are enjoying the story! As a reminder, I'm posting a chapter a day because I'm going over the entire thing for grammatical and developmental mistakes. However, the entire manuscript had been finished months ago :)



Recommended 90s Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. Gettin' Jiggy With It - Will Smith
2. Kiss The Rain - Billie Myers
3. Come Baby Come - K7
4. Tubthumping - Chumbawamba
5. Bitch - Meredith Brooks
6. Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt
7. WannaBe - Spice Girls
8. Miami - Will Smith
9. Ghetto Supastar - Pras

10. All Cried Out - Allure
11. The Way - Fastball
12. Walkin' on the Sun - Smash Mouth
13. Can't Get Enough of You Baby - Smash Mouth
14. Stay (I missed you) - Lisa Loeb
15. Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) - The Offspring
16. Sex & Candy - Marcy Playground
17. Lullaby - Shawn Mullins
18. Inside Out - Eve 6
19. My Way - Usher
20. Last Kiss - Pearl Jam
21. She's So High - Tal Bachman
22. Slide - The Goo Goo Dolls


AUTHORS NOTE: If you enjoyed this story please follow me on Tiktok (isabelleolmo) or Instagram (isabelleolmobooks) to follow my journey as I publish my first novel!


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