Far from the Tree(64)

“Do you know those frat-boy wannabes?” Maya said. She herself had zero patience for dudes who wore their baseball caps backward and always talked about “getting girls,” even though Maya was pretty sure that they had never even touched one.

“I think we should go,” Grace said.

“Wait, Grace,” Joaquin said, sitting up a little. “Are you shaking?”

“Hey, Grace.”

Now the boys were standing next to their table. It was almost empty on the patio outside, just a few older people sipping teas in the far corner, and their voices sounded loud. “New boyfriend?” one of them asked. He was tall and skinny and made Maya very glad that she had been born a lesbian.

“Just go away, Adam, okay?”

“What’s up? You just hanging out?” Adam looked like the cat that had caught the canary.

“You move pretty fast,” the other guy said. “You and Max just broke up, right?”

“Grace,” Maya said slowly. “Let’s just go, okay?”

Across from them, Joaquin was sitting up very straight. Maya had never seen him look so alert before, and it didn’t make her feel any better about the situation.

“So you tell your new guy about what you were up to in the last year?” Adam said, and his smile reminded Maya of the Cheshire Cat’s, too big to be sincere, a crescent moon too sharp at the edges. “All your big . . . changes?”

Grace started to stand up, shoving her chair back so hard that it crashed into the table behind them. That just seemed to make the boys laugh, though, and before Maya or Joaquin could do anything, Adam leaned forward and said, “Does he know what a slut you are? Or is that what he likes best about you?”

Maya was about to do something, say something, anything to release the pressure that she felt exploding in her chest, when suddenly Joaquin was up and moving so fast that no one saw him coming. In one smooth motion, he had Adam up against the wall, his forearm pressed across his chest, and Adam looked wide-eyed and scared, a fish out of water.

“Listen, you asshole,” Joaquin hissed, and now Maya was standing up next to Grace, hanging on to her arm. “That’s my sister, okay! You think it’s cool to talk to my sister like that? Do you?!” Adam didn’t say anything. Maya felt the pressure in her chest go straight into her heart, bursting with a sudden, vicious love for him.

“Joaquin,” Grace started to say, but it sounded like her voice had died in her throat.

“No!” Adam yelped. His hat had tumbled off in the fracas, and now he just looked like a little kid. “No, man! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t even know she had a brother!”

“You talk to her again, you even think of looking at her again”—Joaquin pressed his arm harder across Adam’s chest, sliding it up toward his throat—“and you’re going to have to talk to me. You got that?”

Adam nodded nervously, his pupils dilated. Next to him, his friend was standing silent.

So was Grace.

“Now get the fuck out of here,” Joaquin said, and Maya thought it was more of a growl, a bear on the attack. “If I see you again, you and me, we’re going to have problems.”

Adam nodded again, and Joaquin gave him one final press before locking eyes with him, then letting him go. He and his friend scurried away as Joaquin seemed to slump, all his bravado slinking away and leaving him like a shell.

“Joaquin,” Grace said. She was panting now. So was Joaquin.

“Joaquin,” Maya said when he didn’t answer.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, his breath coming in short gasps, and then suddenly he was leaving the patio, running down the street, sprinting away from them, trying to escape.





JOAQUIN


Joaquin thought that he was going to be sick.

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened. One minute, he had been sitting with Maya and Grace, thinking about Mark and Linda, and then that fucking weasel had come up to Grace, had make her shake in her shoes, had called her a slut, and Joaquin felt himself slip into that white-hot space that he had spent years trying to avoid.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to feel that kid’s pulse beating fast against his arm, his breath short, his eyes blown wide open. It was a powerful thing to literally hold someone’s fate in your hand, and Joaquin hadn’t had that sort of power in a long time.

The problem with power, though, is that having it doesn’t always make you a good person. Sometimes, it makes you the bad guy.

Joaquin ran until he hit the edge of the park that bordered the mall, one that was usually used only by toddlers and their attentive parents, and it wasn’t until he stopped that he realized his sisters were hot on his trail. “Joaquin!” they were shouting, dashing after him. “Joaquin, wait!”

Joaquin turned, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t run like that in a long time. He felt as if he could keep running forever. “Just—go away, okay?” he said to his sisters, holding out his hand as if to keep them at bay. “I’m sorry, I ruined our day.”

“You’re shaking,” Grace told him. She was still trembling, too. Maya was the only one who seemed steady, her eyes wild and alive. “You should sit down.”

“I’m fine,” Joaquin spat out. “I just got upset, that’s all. I’m sorry.”