Read Lucky Lucette Page 12


  “Just listen please,” I implore. “If he ever gets aggressive for any reason or tells you ugly things, please remember what I’m saying about him.”

  After she leaves, Danila and Emily have to leave too. They’re also fighting what Alfredo and I are saying about Ray. When the door closes behind them, Alfredo turns to me with an upset face.

  “That was a disaster,” he murmurs miserably.

  “At least we tried,” I tell him.

  “We’ll just have to keep an eye on Ray.”

  I sigh. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’ve decided to talk to her parents about this. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”

  He nods. “I’ll go with you if you want.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be good.”

  “We can’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “Right,” he states.

  Since he fidgets and looks towards the door with a strange expression, I ask him if he has to leave too. He tells me he’d like to stay a little longer. He looks like he’s got much on his mind. In all honesty I’m glad he doesn’t have to leave yet. I really like his company.

  “I’ve got something I need to talk to you about,” he says uncomfortably.

  I’m immediately curious. “What?”

  “Please just consider it.”

  I have to confess my curiosity is pricking me. “Consider what?”

  “Prom.”

  “Prom?”

  “Would you go with me?” he blurts. “As friends, of course.”

  Justin:

  The freak is back on the job! I couldn’t be happier. Ratchet told me that it was best to retrace his steps. He’s gone back to checking on the Nuñezes to see if they’re in contact with their daughter. They’re still in Europe but you never know. Ratchet also makes me go through Lucette’s days, acquaintances, and activities.

  “Maybe we missed something last time,” he grunts.

  I’m so close to getting my lovely Lucette back! I just know it!

  Chapter 31

  Lucette/Araceli:

  I’m actually thrilled that Alfredo asked me to the prom. After fake marrying the monster and leaving school, I had thought I would never get to go.

  Here’s to second chances, I tell myself.

  When Ray overhears me telling Anelina during lunch break about my prom plans, he starts yelling at me. He can’t understand what I see in Alfredo. I really regret that at the moment Alfredo is in the library. I guess that’s why the coward is confronting me at this exact moment. Ray lets me have it by tearing into me, making fun of me, and snarling really ugly remarks about Alfredo. I just stare at him shocked and freaking out. It’s like his face morphs into Justin’s and I do what I always did—freeze in total fear. Anelina is totally shocked as she witnesses Ray’s abusive fury.

  “Ray, stop it!” she snaps, noticing my anguished face.

  Then he turns his rage towards her. Many colorful profanities come out of his mouth directed at Anelina. I somewhat get out of my stupor and demand for him to stop abusing her. Then he turns his verbal attack back on me. Fortunately, a teacher breaks it up. Ray is put on suspension for a week.

  As it happens, Alfredo and I don’t have to go talk to Anelina’s parents after all. Luckily, Ray had dug his own grave when it came to Anelina, and she apologizes to both Alfredo and me for not having believed us about Ray.

  I’ve got to say at this point that I have to give Anelina a lot of credit. You see, if something like this had happened to Justin and me, I probably would’ve found a way of excusing him. Anelina will have none of that. I wish I had snapped out of my crush on an abusive jerk like Anelina has, but as I’ve said before—no use trying to change the past.

  I’ve only got the present. And in the present there’s the prom.

  Really looking forward to it!

  Justin:

  Ratchet assures me that my lovely Lucette is not in contact with her parents. I’m a little deflated over it. I was hoping Ratchet could figure out where she was through her parents.

  He’s even hired someone to casually strike up a friendship with her cousin Lynette who is often loose jawed. Lynette asserted that no one knows where her cousin is. She, of course, was gleeful about it since she wanted Lucette’s parents all to herself. She did say, however, that the Nuñezes were about to return from Europe and go to the police since they hadn’t heard anything from their daughter and were really worried. In fact, they’re starting to question my hand in Lucette’s disappearance.

  Ugg!!! As if I would ever hurt my lovely Lucette!

  Once they arrive, I brace myself for a talk with the cops. Fortunately, the Nuñezes change their minds about turning me over to the police when they receive a snail mail letter from my wife. It says, in Lucette’s own handwriting, that she’s fine and that to please not look for her. The letter had been postmarked from San Antonio, so either she’s still in the city or has an accomplice mailing her letters.

  Ratchet breaks into the Nuñez mansion, finds the letter, and is investigating where it came from. It isn’t much but at least it’s something.

  Lynette asserts that the Nuñezes strongly suspect that Lucette is trying to get away from me. They think I’m violent because of the time I smashed the vase in their home.

  I’m still really pissed off at Ramaldi for having confused Lynette with Lucette!

  Now my in-laws are suspicious of me when we should be working together to find their daughter!

  Stupid Ramaldi! I’m so glad I left the stabbed fish on his doorstep!

  Chapter 32

  Lucette/Araceli:

  When Mrs. Sanchez finds out I’m going to the prom, she takes to making me a dress. I’m so relieved because that was one of the things I was worried about. What do I do for a dress? I kept telling myself. In the past it wouldn’t have even been a thought. My parents’ money would’ve bought me any dress I wanted, but I, of course, couldn’t ask the Sanchezes to make that expenditure. But Mrs. Sanchez happily insists on sewing me a dress.

  For the umpteenth time, I chuckle when I think about how much my life has changed in under a year. Heck!—how much I myself have transformed! The spoiled brat I used to be would’ve never imagined wearing a homemade dress ever—especially one to the prom. She would’ve gone to Paris to find the most exclusive dress and then bragged about it to her envious followers.

  Ugg!

  I’ll say it again!—I’m sooo glad I’m not her anymore.

  As Mrs. Sanchez lovingly sews my dress on her sewing machine, I sit close to her bed. She chatters and I smile, listening to her. She tells me not to worry because she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s already sewn quite a few beautiful dresses for her foster daughters, family, and friends. As it turns out, this year I’m the only one she’s making a dress for. I feel honored. She tells me she loooves making prom dresses, so she’s thrilled to be sewing one for me.

  I gaze at her loving fingers putting together the dress from the pattern and fabric I had chosen. She’s such an expert seamstress that she tells me we can make changes to the dress to make it unique and totally mine. I make a few shy suggestions, and she runs with them.

  When it’s finished, I try on the radiantly shimmery, elegantly poufy, pink dress. I can honestly tell you that I’m every bit as enthralled with this dress as any of the Paris creations costing an arm and a leg I had purchased in the past. In fact, I adore this dress even more since it’s a lot more personal and was made by a lady I’ve grown to love.

  This is such a precious moment, I tell myself as I twirl in the dress while trying it on as Mrs. Sanchez chuckles. She tells me she’ll make the final alterations within the next few days.

  Getting ready for the prom, I can’t help but think about my parents. I try not to dwell on how much I miss them and how they would’ve loved to participate in prom rituals. My mom would’ve treasured to have helped me pick out the dress and accessories, and my dad would’ve appreciated recording what he c
ould of the night like me coming down the stairs and my date pinning the corsage on me.

  A while back, I had sent Alejo a letter for my parents, and he had taken it out of the envelope to resend to them to the San Antonio address. Even if they were still in Europe, my father had arranged it for them to still get all their mail. I was terrified they’d end up joining with Justin in finding me or getting the police in on it. After that, I had sent them, via Alejo again, an audio recording telling them how much I missed them and how necessary it was for them not to look for me. I pleaded that they keep the recording a total secret even from Lynette and to either dispose of it or put it in the safe. The recording was too personal, and I only wanted my parents knowing about it.

  The snail mail letter I didn’t mind people knowing about since the postmark would only lead to San Antonio and away from El Paso in case Justin was looking for me. My stomach cramps when I think about this because I’m pretty sure he is looking for me.

  The monster considers me his possession, as if a human being has a right to own another one! How completely awful and against what we humans should be to one another is what slavery entails. Wrong is wrong! You study slavery in class and read about it in the textbooks, but experiencing someone taking ownership of your freedom really cuts into every fiber of your being. Slices right through!

  I shut out those thoughts in order not to have my prom night ruined. Justin had already messed up my life so much. I refuse to let him take all of my moments. Those are my moments. No matter how much he feels that my life is his, he’s wrong. His life is his own as my life is mine.

  I hear a knock on the door. It must be Alfredo, I say to myself, a flutter in my stomach. Glancing in the mirror, I make certain the little make up I had applied to my face wasn’t smeared and that the curls in my hair were in place. Walking down the stairs, it’s like a common scene in a movie with the boy, Alfredo, gazing at me coming down the stairs.

  “Wow!” he bursts.

  I smile at him. He looks pretty wow himself with a black tux. Mr. Sanchez is recording us on his phone. Mrs. Sanchez has tears in her eyes. Alfredo carefully and nervously pins a corsage of daffodils on me. I’m touched that he remembered I had mentioned once that daffodils were my favorite flowers.

  When we step outside, he starts apologizing profusely. “Sorry, sorry so much, Araceli. I couldn’t afford a limo,” he mutters miserably.

  I happen to know that he works part time for his cousin’s plumbing business but uses most of the money he earns to help his parents since they don’t earn much money and barely make ends meet. Truthfully, I’d rather him not waste his much needed money on a limo. His old Pontiac is fine with me.

  “Don’t worry,” I assure, “I’ve been in a limo and the experience is overrated.”

  He groans. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m not,” I shoot back. “The company you keep is much more important than the ride.”

  “You’ve been through so much. I just wanted this night to be memorable for you.”

  My eyes go straight into his. “Alfredo, stop worrying about stupid stuff like limos and crap like that. I’ve already had all that expensive junk and you know what? From now on I want my memories filled with people and experiences that come from the heart and not the pocketbook.”

  “That’s a great thing to say,” he murmurs, smiling.

  “I mean it. Now, let’s get going before we miss the prom talking about how memorable it should be.”

  Alfredo chuckles as we climb into his car. Before he turns on the ignition he looks my way. I smile at him wondering what he’s going to tell me—maybe something else about limos.

  “From the first time I saw you at your party, I thought you were so gorgeous. I mean beautiful in the way that what you have inside—smarts, niceness, and caring come flooding out, making your already pretty outside even more stunning.”

  “Thanks,” I murmur. The guy really knows how to pay a compliment, right?

  “I just want to tell you something about tonight.”

  “What?” I question with curiosity.

  “Tonight you’re a goddess.”

  I’m stunned at such a compliment. We’re quiet for the rest of the ride to the prom. Even though I don’t consider myself anywhere near being a goddess, his words feel very special to me. Justin had always called me lovely Lucette, but the fact that he thought I was beautiful became a huge burden for obvious reasons. There were times I thought about damaging my face to see if he would leave me, but then I realized he would probably make good on his threat of killing himself and me.

  Alfredo isn’t anything like the monster. His compliments really mean something. With an abrupt start I realize I’m in the danger area—having strong romantic feelings for Alfredo. Be careful, I tell myself.

  At the prom, we start dancing right away. The Dynamic Trio is there with boys who are friends like I’m doing with Alfredo. Yet, their vibe is different than the one between Alfredo and me. The trio and their dates are ribbing one another with corny jokes and commenting on how silly the ritual of prom is. Alfredo and I keep staring into one another’s eyes like characters in a bad movie that you usually make fun of.

  As the guys get us some punch, the trio immediately starts in on me. “You and Alfredo are getting pretty cozy,” comments Anelina slyly. Ever since the incident with Ray had ended, we had gone back to being the best of friends to my relief.

  “Just friends,” I shoot out.

  Danila shrugs. “Yeah, right!”

  “It’s the truth!” I rush.

  “Sounds to me like you’re trying to convince yourself that your feelings for Alfredo aren’t real,” comments Emily. “Just saying, girl friend.”

  I groan. “I know the three of you would love for Alfredo and me to get together but—”

  “Yeah, we would,” Danila bursts. “The both of you are perfect together.”

  Anelina nods. “You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”

  “You’ve got total love staring at you and you’re pushing it away,” remarks Emily matter-of-factly.

  What they don’t know is that I had once thought I had total love in my open, anxious hands. Then it had exploded, crashing to the ground. I just don’t trust myself with my feelings towards guys anymore.

  When Alfredo returns with my punch, I take a huge gulp. All that talk of romance has dried my mouth, bringing out my parched insides because that’s what my passionate emotions feel like to me—an endless dry desert of confusion, fear, and bruises lurking in the mesquite trees. Alfredo and I start dancing again, a quiet ballad. As I feel his arms around me and his light breath on my neck, I can’t help but think about the time he had kissed me.

  The day after the kiss only one thought had occupied my head. Did I love the kiss? Now I realize that it was a silly question because I had tried very hard to convince myself that I hadn’t cared all that much for the smooch.

  Convinced myself.

  I realize that if I hadn’t loved the kiss then I wouldn’t have had to convince myself of anything. I just wouldn’t have gotten so into it period.

  After the slow dance, Alfredo asks me if I want to step outside for a second. I quickly agree. It seems my mind is getting hazy. Maybe his is too. Prom is such a heady experience. Fresh air will do us some good.

  As we go towards the doors of the school auditorium, a familiar voice cuts into me.

  “Interesting dress,” Chiffon’s voice smirks. “I got mine at a boutique.”

  I chuckle as I turn to face her. “How nice for you,” I shoot back. Then I do a double take. Alfredo does the same. We both realize that her date is a sneering Ray. I guess his suspension is over.

  “Chiffon baby, your dress puts all others to shame,” Ray declares.

  “Yeah, right!” Alfredo snipes. Ray glares at him.

  “Where did you get your dress, Araceli?” Chiffon questions, eyeing my clothes as if they were rags.

&n
bsp; “It was made for me,” I burst proudly.

  “A homemade dress!” she smirks, laughing.

  “Homemade!” Ray guffaws, cackling.

  I nod cheerfully. “Yeah, you’d better believe it.”

  “It’s almost as beautiful as she is,” Alfredo jumps in.

  “How can you be so proud of some poor people’s dress?” Chiffon questions me furiously.

  “Really, Chiffon, I could care less what you think of my dress. You can hate on it all you want, but your opinion is so not important to me.”

  Chiffon wrathfully glares at me, not knowing what to say. No matter how much she tries to insult me I don’t take her bait and it infuriates her. I’m not going to stop loving my dress because of her. I’m not going to feel ashamed of what I’m wearing because of her. I’m not going to let her ruin my evening.

  As I said before, she’s nobody to me—just a fly I swat away.

  I turn to Alfredo, “Let’s go outside, okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s getting pretty disgusting in here,” he announces, glaring at both Chiffon and Ray.

  They scowl at us as Alfredo and I go through the double doors to the outside. The fresh air hits us. We sit on a bench and just enjoy the outdoors—the majestic trees, the sparkling stars, and the vibrant half-moon.

  “You sure know how to handle Chiffon,” Alfredo comments, chuckling.

  “Bullies like her feed off of making others feel bad. I don’t let her do it, and it freaks her out.”

  “Yeah, she was really freaked out.”

  “I just can’t believe she came to the prom with Ray,” I burst.

  “I know.”

  My eyes glaze over unhappily. “She really doesn’t know what she’s in for with him,” I murmur. “I don’t even wish on her what happened to me.”

  “That’s why you’re such a good person.”

  “Thanks, Alfredo. You’re the best of friends.”

  “I need you to know something,” he asserts.

  “What?”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot,” he murmurs, “and that you may never be ready for a boyfriend but know that you’ll always have me as a friend. Don’t ever worry about losing me even if you never feel the same way for me as I feel for you. Being a friend to an awesome person like you is an honor.”