Chapter Twelve
Lorenzo
What are the odds, running into the girl you can’t get out of your mind again and finding she needs your help? What a douchebag that guy was. We didn’t get to talk much, but from what I picked up from the conversation, they surely had a past. I can’t imagine anyone treating her the way he was. I hope that when they were together, he treated her better than what I witnessed. Sure, he was drunk off his ass, but c’mon. I’ve been drunk before, and I would never dream of treating a woman the way he was treating her.
Thank God I had decided to go for a run at the last minute. I was supposed to hit the shower once I got home, but Gianna was still up and she didn’t want Marianna to leave quite yet. So she stayed with her while I went jogging. It felt so good to run and not think of much. I blasted my music on my AirPods and let each thud of my step release the day’s stress. It was all going so well until a woman across the street caught my attention from the corner of my eyes. Lo and behold, it was her. Two blocks from my house, I saw Carissa, and the rest was history.
Sure, it was a risky move giving her my number. Honestly, I don’t know what came over me, but it was on impulse. I hadn’t taken two seconds to think about it, and it hadn’t crossed my mind at all before she was about to pull away. It was as if one minute I’m bidding her adieu, and the next, I’m pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling my number across it.
The piece of paper? A receipt from the 7-Eleven near the gym. I had stopped by momentarily after my workout to grab a bottle of Cool Blue Gatorade.
I quietly tiptoe inside my house and see Marianna sitting on the couch, typing something on her phone.
“Hey, is she out?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
She puts her phone down and looks up at me. “Yeah, after ten minutes, she cuddled up against my side and fell asleep. I just put her down in her bed like five minutes ago.” She stands and stretches her arms.
“Thanks.”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I love watching her. You know that.” She pauses for a moment and then says, “I was starting to get worried about you…”
I furrow my brows. I guess I was gone longer than I had told her I was going to be. “I’m sorry.” I don’t really want to get into it with her. If she knew I got into an altercation with some drunk guy over a random girl, she wouldn’t be too happy with me.
But is Carissa just some random girl? We’re friends now, aren’t we?
She raises an eyebrow and smirks. “I hope you didn’t get into any trouble.”
Now I have to look away. The only thing I need is for her to find out my taking longer than expected had something to do with some girl. I pretend to busy myself with tidying up, grabbing magazines and crayons off the living room coffee table. She and Gianna must have been coloring in her princess and pony coloring books.
“Lorenzo?”
“Hmm?” I lift my head in her direction, but I continue looking at the table in front of me.
She grabs my arm. “You’re not telling me something.”
I finally lift my gaze to meet hers and shrug. “I may have had to help a friend of mine.” I pull away and pretend like it’s no big deal.
Marianna throws up her arms in exasperation. “Lorenzo! You know you have a temper that can get you into loads of trouble! I don’t want to see the cops arresting you because you can’t control your emotions. You have a little girl you need to put first, before some muscle head friend of yours from the gym!”
My sister loves to throw that little incident from three years ago in my face whenever she can. I got into a fight with a neighbor that caused the people upstairs to call the cops, and yeah… I was brought into the station. It wasn’t my fault, but I may have had a little bit too much to drink, thinking about my miserable life, and there went that.
But that all happened three years ago, and there hasn’t been another incident since. I’ve been on my best behavior. I need to be anyway, for my little girl. It’s just that sometimes, my temper gets the best of me. It is why I turned to mixed martial arts. I get to let my anger loose and not get in trouble with the law.
In a matter of milliseconds, my anger rises, and I explode. “It wasn’t a guy from the gym! Carissa was being harassed by her asshole ex-boyfriend. I needed to intervene. He was getting physical with her…” I blurt. Crap, I couldn’t control my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was tell her about Carissa.
Her shocked expression is exactly what I expect. She folds her arms across her chest. “Carissa? Who’s this Carissa you so casually speak of?”
I shrug. Might as well face the music now rather than later. “The chick Max was teasing me about since the night we went to the bar. I saw her again at the supermarket the other day, and just now when I went jogging. She needed help. I couldn’t just turn a blind eye and let the guy have his way with her.”
She nods. “Of course not. You did the right thing. I just hope the cops weren’t involved.”
“No, he ran off with his tail between his legs.”
She chuckles. “Good. I would think so. I mean, look at you.”
I cock my head.
“You’re a beast, Enz. Anyone ballsy enough to stand up to you is crazy.” She takes a few steps forward, heading toward the door.
“Hey, Mari?”
She turns around. “Yeah, Enz?”
“Don’t mention this to Max, okay?”
Smiling, she says, “Of course not. He would never let you live it down. I’m glad I have a brother who is such a wonderful man. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Wait, I’m not with her with her… you know. She’s not… We’re not—”
“Lorenz, I know,” she says, cutting me off. “I’m saying she’s lucky to have you as a friend. Nothing more.” She winks at me, and it makes me feel like she’s hoping there soon will be something more between us. Great.
After Marianna goes home, I quickly peek into Gianna’s room to check on her. She’s sound asleep with the sweetest smile on her face. My pretty little princess. She melts my heart.
I leave the door cracked open and hit the shower. Once I finish, I get myself ready for bed. I slide in between the sheets, but I’m restless. Too much is on my mind, and I can’t fall asleep.
Okay, I lied. Not too much. But maybe too much of someone.
I grab my cell phone off the nightstand and scroll through my Instagram feed. Pictures of my friends’ days and celebrity posts fill my screen. After liking a few, I check Facebook. I do the same: like a few posts, comment on some, and turn it off.
As I place my cell phone back onto my nightstand, it vibrates, alerting me of a new message. I lift it again and bring it back to me.
Hi, it’s Carissa.
With those three words, my heart stops. I store her number in my contacts and compose a text back.
Me: Hi, Carissa. How are you? Get home okay?
So maybe it wasn’t the best opener, and it may sound like she’s disturbing me, like: “Good you got home okay. I’m assuming because you’re texting me. Now can you please fuck off?”