I look up at the sky then down at the ground. Well, what do I really have to lose? “You know I didn’t really mean we had to hang out,” I say, catching up to her tiny, but fierce, strides.
Candy mocks being hurt, hand over her heart and pouty-puppy-eyes. “You don’t want to hang out with me?”
Considering I don’t know anyone here but my ex, I should be jumping at this opportunity. “I suppose we can. I did get you into this mess.”
Putting her phone in her pocket, she grabs out her keys and walks toward the nearest parking lot. “Why are you avoiding guapo Mr. Soul Eyes anyway?”
Soul Eyes? I snort. Unless she means those eyes suck your soul right out of you and stomp it to the floor with no care at all, Ben has no soul. “It’s a long story.”
She walks to a rundown Kia and circles her finger to me and the passenger side. “Tell me everything.”
Chapter Two
I look out the window of Candy’s Kia and squint at the passing road signs. “So, we were dancing, typical high school moment, crowns on our head from being king and queen, and he says, ‘Well, maybe we should see other people.’ Where are we going anyway?”
“Tonta, don’t you know you shouldn’t get in cars with strange people?” Candy asks, flipping the switch for her blinker.
I roll my eyes.
She pops another bubble. Not gonna lie, I wish I could edit those out for my studio audience. Makes me flinch every time she does it.
Yes, I’m a little jumpy. Freaking Ben and his stupid freaking accusations. If I did have a studio audience, life would be a lot more fun.
“Estoy bromeando,” she says.
“Obviously,” I mumble.
“Awe, you do know español!”
I wave my hand. “Unfortunately, not enough.”
“That is unfortunate. We could’ve had secret conversations together in front of Brandon. Anyway, we’re headed to Candyland, AKA, my apartment. Speaking of Brad, that seems fishy, what he said. What were you talking about before that dance?” She speeds up as a car nearly T-bones us and calls out, “Your side!”
This woman is going to kill me.
“We weren’t talking about anything noteworthy as far as I remember. We were literally dancing. To our song. Reminiscing about our past and looking forward to our future.” I bang my head against the headrest but it’s completely unsatisfying because it’s cloth.
Candy taps her fingers on the steering wheel to a Marshmello song. “That could be a slogan.” She clears her throat and starts talking in a deep, male sports announcer voice, “Reminiscing about our past and looking forward to our future: How men have successfully oppressed women over the generations. Ooh, I need to put that on my Twitter.” She searches the cupholders blindly as she drives.
I snatch her phone. “Girl, you are not putting that on your Twitter right now. I’d like to live long enough to see Candyland.”
“Fine, but I’m sort of a big deal on there. Your words could’ve been famous.”
“You an influencer?” I laugh.
She flips her hair over her shoulder in a wave of cotton candy clouds. “Sure am.”
Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. “Good for you. I’m fine not being famous though.”
Looking in the rearview mirror, she says, “Mira, all I’m saying is that Bruce was hot. Bien guapo.”
“It’s Ben, Candy. B-E-N. You have to at least know his name if you’re going to be my friend.” I shake my head. “And who cares if he’s hot? He dumped me on prom night!”
“Dun-dun-dun-dun,” she sings along to the beat. “Wait—did you say Ben?”
Is she for real? Does she not listen to anything at all? “Yes.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Shut up. So your couple name was Lesben? It sounds like—”
“Lesbian. Yeah, yeah, I know.” Ugh, I thought that name died in high school. “Adorable if it were me and you and your name was Ben. But unfortunately, Ben’s a man.”
She laughs so carelessly that it makes me a little jealous.
“So, as you can imagine, it wasn’t the best name for a hetero couple. Anyway, we’d have to be a couple for that to be legit. And we aren’t.”
Tears stream down her face and her giggles filter down to a soft ha and ho. “Oh man, that’s good. Lesben. I love it.”
A loud bang startles me, and my head hits my knees as I cry out, “Please! I don’t want to die!” My heart beats at probably 5,000 times per minute, and my hair is in my mouth like bad spaghetti as I sputter to get it out.
Candy puts a hand on my forehead and shoves me back to sitting straight up. “Para con eso. It’s just my car backfiring or something. Who knows, I need to take it into a mechanic.”
I don’t mention that Ben could easily fix her problem. Spoiled kid or not, he’s always been obsessed with cars. It’s why him and my dad got along so well. Seeing him in class is going to be awesome. You know, if sticking your face with porcupine needles is awesome. Plus, I can already feel how this is going to end, and it’s not good.
We pull into a new apartment complex with stone lining the side of the building and ivy cascading down it, which had to be plastered on the wall like that, because ivy doesn’t grow that quick. My heart rate is still through the roof, but I try to breathe through my nose to make it calm the freak down. “Nice place.”
She waves me off. “On the outside. They built this complex so cheap I swear everything is breaking on the inside. We’ve had the repair man out like ten times already, and we’ve only lived here a month.”
“Bummer. Who do you live with, anyway?”
She turns the key, the engine sputters out, and she takes it out of the ignition. The sun is beating down, and I doubt her AC had been working because it’s hot as crap. “Mi hermano and a few of his friends.”
Oh, great. She has a brother? And lives with his friends? I hope they’re video game nerds or something. Candy is downright adorable, so her brother better be as tiny and cute and a so-not-my-type kind of man. Because it’s been too long, and a girl needs company. Non-committal, don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out company.
She holds up some plastic key fob to the complex’s side door, and it opens automatically. The hallways inside smell like a floral cleaning solution. It’s not bad, but it’s not really pleasant either.
Candy is a girl on a mission, and she trudges through the halls with her gaze fixated ahead. As we near a hallway to turn right, there’s an unmistakable EDM song making the walls shake.
She growls, “I’m going to kill him. ¡Voy a matarlo!”
So, you know, I’m thinking maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here with her. In fact, as I walk to her side and see her narrowed eyes and curled lip, I’m wondering if I should run the other way. Dark hallway, a girl I barely know, loud music playing, and a den full of boys we’re about to walk into. You think I’m an idiot, right? I don’t even have to ask…I’m an idiot.
“Maybe I should go. I’ll just catch an Uber or something,” I whisper, half-hoping that she doesn’t hear me and I can bolt before we go into whatever situation has her pulling out a can of hairspray…oh shoot, nope, that’s definitely mace.