know if Ruben told you that or not.” She shrugged. “I like it here, I guess.”
Marisol dropped her charm as I approached her. I put my hand on her waist and felt the soft flesh under her dress give into my slight pressure. With my free hand, I brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and then ran my fingertips over one of the straps of her dress.
“So,” I whispered, “you’ve been waiting for me?”
Marisol didn’t even let the last word leave my lips before she grabbed the sides of my face and pulled my mouth to hers. Our rum-soaked lips collided and slid against each other’s. Her hands were frantic and everywhere: in my hair, on my stomach, up the front of my T-shirt. I gasped as she raked her nails across the skin of my chest. When I threw my hands to the wall behind her to brace myself, she pressed her hips into mine and ran her teeth along the edge of my jaw.
I reeled back, needing a second to catch my breath.
Marisol’s dark eyes were shimmering from the liquor and the moonlight, but I only caught a glimpse of them before she came crashing down on me again.
It was only seconds later, as I was grasping for the hem of Marisol’s dress, when I felt something small and sharp run across my cheek. I thought it was one of Marisol’s nails, until I realized her fingers were tugging at my belt loops. Something else pelted me on the shoulder, another on the top of my head.
I made the mistake of glancing up and was struck twice in quick succession, once in the center of my forehead and then again in the tender spot between my eyebrow and eye. Marisol shrieked and dodged away. I ducked and covered my head just as several tiny pellets showered down on me.
And then, everything was quiet. I knelt down, picked up a couple of the projectiles from around my feet, and rolled them around in my palm. They were stones, rough-edged and the size of small marbles.
I hurled them back up to their source and shouted. “Hey!” The stones came up short and rattled back down the wall. “Who’s up there?”
I craned my head and was just able to make out the dark shapes of leaves swaying against a dark sky. Behind those leaves was something else, shadowed and stationary. There was a rustling noise, but that could’ve been from anything: the wind, a bird, a cat chasing a bird.
“That house is cursed,” Marisol said, her voice slurred.
I lowered my gaze and gaped at her. She was still leaning against the stones. A strap of her dress had slipped down and was hanging loosely around her upper arm. Much of her dark hair had fallen like a curtain in front her face, and neither of us made an effort to sweep it back.
“That house is cursed,” she said louder, as if I didn’t hear her the first time. “That’s what everyone says. Didn’t you know that?” She swayed to the side and let out a short burst of laughter.
Again, I peered up to the top of the wall. It was the same as before, as it always had been, dark objects against a dark sky, leaves and branches bending in the breeze. I shivered as an unexpected rash of goose bumps rippled up my arms.
“Come on.” I extended my hand to Marisol. “Let’s go.”
“You’re bleeding,” Marisol replied, pointing at my forehead. “Like, a lot.”
I swiped at my eyebrow, and sure enough, my trembling fingers came away slick. I wiped them off on my jeans and snatched Marisol’s hand.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Cuts like these always look worse than they actually are.” There was a wobble in my voice; I hoped she didn’t notice.
I could feel the blood from the cut trailing down the middle of my face and dripping from the tip of my nose, and going up the steep steps while drunk was giving me the spins. Once Marisol and I got back to the field, I could just make out Rico in the near distance, acting the carefree clown as usual, trying to dance to nonexistent music and continuously toppling over. Everyone was laughing, except for Carlos, who was sprawled out on the grass, snoring with his mouth wide open.
When we got close enough for Ruben to see my face, he sneered and asked what I’d done to make Marisol sock me. I rolled my