it on a Big Gulp if Marisa could pay the tax.
"Man, you know how to treat a
chola
really nice." She planted a kiss on the back of his neck and asked why he smelled so good.
"I put on some of my mom's perfume." He honked again with laughter. "I don't know why I did that."
"You girl!" When she slapped his arm, she nearly lost control and steered the bike into a set of buckled garbage cans. She secretly thought she wouldn't have minded a crash because it would have brought him to the ground where she could kiss him until he was out of breath.
The park was nearly deserted—an elderly woman was feeding pigeons and far away a man was playing fetch with his dog. A rusty swing squeaked in the autumn breeze.
Rene jumped off the bike and made a sour face at the sight of his socks. One was blue and the other black.
"You're a disaster, buddy boy," Marisa said, clicking her tongue. She tossed the bike aside and gave Rene a hug and a kiss on his lips.
"Guess what?" Rene asked.
"I don't know."
"I forgot to brush my teeth," he answered, and started his honking.
"You
cochino!
" She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her sweater.
"Nah, just kidding. I brushed them twice. I have ascertained your hunger for my body and figured that you would want to devour it."
"Hunger for your body! You sound like Aaron."
Marisa flung a handful of leaves at him, wrestled him easily to the ground, and planted kisses on his neck and then a long one on his mouth.
"But do you think I'll change? You know, be strong like other guys?" Rene asked after he caught his breath. Before she could answer, he added, "You're so beautiful."
Marisa's heart leaped like a gazelle. "If you change, just make it your socks."
They shook themselves clean of leaves and grass and sat on a bench, holding hands. Marisa confessed that she did possess a desire to change. She had lost weight, that much was true. But she also wanted to be kinder, less likely to explode with anger.
"Less animosity toward mankind, you mean," Rene said.
"Less
what?
"
Rene offered a definition of the word
animosity,
which he said resulted when she called people and moments "stupid."
Marisa studied Rene and smirked. "You think you're all smart."
"But I am!" Rene honked. "I took a pre-SAT exam and I scored great."
Aaron showed up, a basketball under his arm. He was wearing an oversized Los Angeles Lakers jersey. The back read KOBE.
"Hey," Aaron greeted them. His sweats had been dragging in the dirt and the cuffs had picked up a lot of mud.
"Hay is for—"
Marisa punched Rene in the arm. "Don't you dare say it."
"Priscilla's not here?" Aaron asked with his eyes cast on the netless rim.
"She'll be here," Marisa said, and against her better judgment attempted to flatter Aaron by describing a shot he had made against Washington.
"Yeah," he uttered, and did a slow layup.
"Oh, here she comes," chimed Rene.
Priscilla was running up the hill with a beagle on a leash.
"I am
so
late," Priscilla said. She was out of breath, and her face was pink.
Marisa understood why. Priscilla had spent her time dressing. Her hair was done in a ponytail and she was wearing a tight dress. Her lips were shiny with lip gloss.
Aaron gawked at Priscilla and did the best thing that a jock could do to demonstrate he liked someone: He passed her the basketball.
"Thanks," Priscilla said, beaming. She palmed it awkwardly, and laughed when it hit her knee and rolled away. Her beagle chased after it.
"What's your dog's name?" Marisa asked.
"Peaches," Priscilla answered as she retrieved the ball.
"Come on, let's play," Aaron said. "How about you three against me?"
What a jerk
, Marisa thought. She prayed that Priscilla would see him for what he was: a conceited jughead.
"Sounds good to me," Rene said.
Aaron bounced the ball between his legs and faked left, which all three of his opponents bought. He moved swiftly right and finger-rolled the basketball through the rim.
"Oh, wow," Priscilla said. "That was really
"Man, you know how to treat a
chola
really nice." She planted a kiss on the back of his neck and asked why he smelled so good.
"I put on some of my mom's perfume." He honked again with laughter. "I don't know why I did that."
"You girl!" When she slapped his arm, she nearly lost control and steered the bike into a set of buckled garbage cans. She secretly thought she wouldn't have minded a crash because it would have brought him to the ground where she could kiss him until he was out of breath.
The park was nearly deserted—an elderly woman was feeding pigeons and far away a man was playing fetch with his dog. A rusty swing squeaked in the autumn breeze.
Rene jumped off the bike and made a sour face at the sight of his socks. One was blue and the other black.
"You're a disaster, buddy boy," Marisa said, clicking her tongue. She tossed the bike aside and gave Rene a hug and a kiss on his lips.
"Guess what?" Rene asked.
"I don't know."
"I forgot to brush my teeth," he answered, and started his honking.
"You
cochino!
" She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her sweater.
"Nah, just kidding. I brushed them twice. I have ascertained your hunger for my body and figured that you would want to devour it."
"Hunger for your body! You sound like Aaron."
Marisa flung a handful of leaves at him, wrestled him easily to the ground, and planted kisses on his neck and then a long one on his mouth.
"But do you think I'll change? You know, be strong like other guys?" Rene asked after he caught his breath. Before she could answer, he added, "You're so beautiful."
Marisa's heart leaped like a gazelle. "If you change, just make it your socks."
They shook themselves clean of leaves and grass and sat on a bench, holding hands. Marisa confessed that she did possess a desire to change. She had lost weight, that much was true. But she also wanted to be kinder, less likely to explode with anger.
"Less animosity toward mankind, you mean," Rene said.
"Less
what?
"
Rene offered a definition of the word
animosity,
which he said resulted when she called people and moments "stupid."
Marisa studied Rene and smirked. "You think you're all smart."
"But I am!" Rene honked. "I took a pre-SAT exam and I scored great."
Aaron showed up, a basketball under his arm. He was wearing an oversized Los Angeles Lakers jersey. The back read KOBE.
"Hey," Aaron greeted them. His sweats had been dragging in the dirt and the cuffs had picked up a lot of mud.
"Hay is for—"
Marisa punched Rene in the arm. "Don't you dare say it."
"Priscilla's not here?" Aaron asked with his eyes cast on the netless rim.
"She'll be here," Marisa said, and against her better judgment attempted to flatter Aaron by describing a shot he had made against Washington.
"Yeah," he uttered, and did a slow layup.
"Oh, here she comes," chimed Rene.
Priscilla was running up the hill with a beagle on a leash.
"I am
so
late," Priscilla said. She was out of breath, and her face was pink.
Marisa understood why. Priscilla had spent her time dressing. Her hair was done in a ponytail and she was wearing a tight dress. Her lips were shiny with lip gloss.
Aaron gawked at Priscilla and did the best thing that a jock could do to demonstrate he liked someone: He passed her the basketball.
"Thanks," Priscilla said, beaming. She palmed it awkwardly, and laughed when it hit her knee and rolled away. Her beagle chased after it.
"What's your dog's name?" Marisa asked.
"Peaches," Priscilla answered as she retrieved the ball.
"Come on, let's play," Aaron said. "How about you three against me?"
What a jerk
, Marisa thought. She prayed that Priscilla would see him for what he was: a conceited jughead.
"Sounds good to me," Rene said.
Aaron bounced the ball between his legs and faked left, which all three of his opponents bought. He moved swiftly right and finger-rolled the basketball through the rim.
"Oh, wow," Priscilla said. "That was really
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