Letting Go (Changing Hearts Series Book 3) Read online

  It’s not hot, but I’ve broken into a sweat. I wipe it away with my sleeve and grab my phone from my nightstand, laying back down and throwing the covers back on. It’s only 6:34 am. I guess I got used to waking up at 6am every day. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t.

  I turn on the TV in my room, but there’s nothing on. I go back to my phone and check my newsfeeds. Then I watch YouTube videos. I finally fall asleep.

  I don’t wake up again until almost noon. This time, it’s my stomach that wakes me.

  I’m hungry.

  I walk into the kitchen barefoot. The floor is cold. I guess both my parents are at work.

  I should probably find a job soon. They’re not about to let me live here for free now that I’m not in school anymore.

  I walk to the living room window and peek out. Both of their cars are gone. Mine’s parked under the tree in the front yard. On the grass. I wonder how long it’s been there. Or if my dad took it for a drive once in a while at least. I’ll look at it after I eat something.

  I go back to the kitchen and open the fridge. It’s pretty much empty. I wonder who’s been doing the grocery shopping.

  My stomach growls again. I feel like going out anyway.

  A few minutes later, I’m changed. I find my keys on the hook next to the door. I lock up behind me and cross our yard to my car.

  It’s a black Acura. Small but fast. My mind flashes back to Valerie sitting in the front seat, her hair blowing in the wind as she laughed. I blink hard and get that out of my mind.

  I pop the hood and check the oil and water. It needs both so I run in for some water and find some motor oil in the garage. Then I’m up and running. The engine still sounds great. Maybe my dad had kept an eye on her after all.

  I pull out of the yard and onto the driveway, then the road. It’s quiet except for my car.

  Too quiet. Quiet isn’t good. Sometimes it would be really quiet in prison. Like this. And I couldn’t help but think about everything. About Valerie. That night. Dead. Her body.

  I take a deep breath. I can’t do this. I need to get something to eat. And then I’ll find a job. Work lots of hours. Maybe some of the guys I used to hang out with can help me find something. But I can’t just do nothing. The silence, the thoughts, will kill me.

  I end up eating at a local diner of sorts. I’m looking through a menu when I hear someone call my name.

  I look up, and someone’s walking towards me. It’s Marcos.

  “Man, it’s been a while!” he says, taking a seat across from me. I look around. He must be alone. I don’t see anyone with him. He’s wearing a jacket over a work uniform, but I can’t tell where he works. “How are you?”

  He’s waiting for an answer. “Okay. How about you? Where are you working now?” I ask, nodding at his uniform.

  He looks at it before looking back at me.

  “I just started at sports shop at the mall.”

  I nod.

  “So when’d you get out?” he asks more quietly.

  “Yesterday,” I reply. The waitress, an old lady in her fifties or something walks over and asks for my drink order. “Coke, please.”

  “You need a minute before you order?” she says.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  She walks away, and I look back at Marcos.

  “So what about the other two guys? I can’t remember their names, the ones who did time with you?”

  I don’t want to remember their names. I shrug. “I think Ricky’s doing extra time for getting into a fight, and I don’t know about Saul. He got transferred. But anyway, I don’t talk to them anymore.”

  Marcos nods. I’m not about to go back to jail, and staying away from guys like them is the first step. I knew them from playing basketball at the park. They’re into drugs, and it had been Ricky who had convinced me to go after Jimmy that night. I’m not saying I didn’t make a mistake. Because I did. But I shouldn’t have been around those guys in the first place. I had taken things too far.

  “So, uh, I’m looking for a job. Do you know anywhere?”

  The waitress drops my Coke off, and I take a sip.

  “No, man. I can’t think of anything. They’re not hiring anymore where I work, but I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  His phone rings, and I see a girl pop up on the screen. He hits ignore.

  “That your girl?” I ask with a small smile.

  “My baby momma,” he says. “It can wait.”

  “What?” I say, almost choking on my drink.

  “Yeah, man. I found out she was pregnant five months ago. She says it’s mine, but uh, I don’t know, man. You never know these days.” He looks around, and I can’t help but stare.

  Damn. Never pictured Marco as the father type, but I guess it doesn’t take much to become one.

  He looks at his phone again. “I gotta run. My lunch break is almost over, but I’ll talk to you later. Is your number the same?”

  I nod. He leaves. I go back to looking at the menu, but I can’t stop thinking about how everything has changed. I wonder if everything hadn’t happened the way I did, whether my life would be like Marco’s right now. If I would have gotten some girl pregnant and pretty much be ignoring her right now. I have no idea. I just know that I can’t be stuck anymore. I have to do better. If prison taught me anything, it’s that.

  I send out some messages that afternoon, wondering if anybody knows where else I might be able to find a job.

  My dad probably won’t be home until later. I’ve been thinking maybe I should ask him if I can work with him at the shop, but I don’t know.

  Maybe it’ll be better if I just find something on my own.

  I get a couple of replies back from a few guys I used to hang out with. They tell me of a couple of places that are hiring. I ask them what they’re up to. Bobby, a black guy I used to play basketball with, has a baby momma too. His son was just born a couple of months ago.

  Moved in with her six months ago. Moved out last month. Girl crazy. Once you live together the nagging ain’t never stop.

  I don’t know what to say to that so I make an excuse and tell him I have to go. I had stopped talking to most of my friends after I was arrested. I had been in jail several weeks before accepting the plea, so I had missed out on a lot. It’s weird how different everyone’s lives are now. Not just mine. I don’t know what I expected after I got out, but it wasn’t this.

  I guess everyone’s life doesn’t always go according to plan.

  I’ll never forget the first time I saw her.

  Valerie had just moved to our school. It was sophomore year. I was fifteen, almost sixteen years old. But what caught my eye was how she demanded attention without even trying. You couldn’t help but stare at her.

  Her long blonde hair almost reached her waist, and her smile reached her eyes. Her laugh echoed down the hallway. Everyone could tell she was different. What new student didn’t practically crawl into their locker, hoping no one noticed them?

  No.

  Valerie isn’t like that.

  She’s already walking down the hallway with two girls like she belongs here. Because she already does. Not in a mean girl, taking the place over kind of way. She’s just nice and funny, and everyone wants to talk to her.

  Including me. I don’t know what it is about her, but I need to talk to her.

  She’s only a few feet away now. I notice her eyes are like honey, warm. I start walking towards her. I have no idea what I’m going to say. I’ll probably make a complete idiot of myself, but I honestly don’t care. I can’t help but check her out as I get closer.

  She has creamy white skin that I want to kiss and long legs barely covered by her skirt. My eyes make their way up her chest. I swallow and clear my throat and bring my gaze back up to her face. I didn’t realize she was right in front of me.

  “You done?” she says. I can see the two girls beside her smirking, and Marcos walks by me, plainly laughing.

&nb
sp; “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “What’s yours?” she asks.

  I’m caught off guard by her quick response. She crosses her arms across her chest, waiting for me to say something.

  “Carlos.”

  She uncrosses her arms and walks off. “Now I know who to stay away from. Talk about being a creeper.”

  This part of the hallway erupts in “ooohs” at her diss. But I don’t care. I’m gonna get her to talk to me, and before she knows it, she’s gonna be smiling like that for me.

  Four

  A week later, I still don’t have a job and not for lack of trying. I’ve never done this before, but I’m pretty sure I’m doing everything right.

  I went to a handful of places in person, only to be told to apply online. I filled out the online applications. But so far I’ve heard nothing. I don’t have a resume or anything like that, but I thought I’d be able to find something by now.

  I hate having to rely on my parents for stuff. Like my car insurance. They had covered that before, but I was in school, and all I did was help out my dad outside or at his shop now and again.

  Things are different now. I need to be more independent. I’m getting tired of my mom’s offhand comments about me still living at home when my brother moved out by the time he was my age. I wonder why, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. My dad ignores her too, although he doesn’t talk much at all.

  That night after dinner, I get a message from Bobby. He knows a guy who needs help at a shoe store in the mall. He was gonna tell him about me. From what Bobby said, I think I have a real chance. Maybe I’ll need to start tomorrow.

  It’s not much, but it’s something.

  I open up the message.

  Sorry, man. He already found someone.

  I don’t bother replying. What’s the point?

  I can’t sleep that night. My mind won’t shut up. I have a million and one things swirling through my mind, and they won’t go away.

  I think about Valerie. Our first time. Our first fight. Our last fight. I look through my phone for a picture of her, not sure what I’m seeing in my mind is what she really looked like.

  After everything that had happened with her, I had deleted all of our pictures from social media. I had almost deleted them completely off my phone too, but I’d kept them. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them.

  It’s a while before I find them in my albums. I have to look by years. There they are.

  Us.

  Kissing. Holding each other. Laughing. There’s one where I’m looking into the camera for a selfie with her, but she turned at the last minute to look at me. I can’t describe the look on her face.

  Happy? Content? In love?

  She’ll never look like that again. Instead, she’s in the ground…

  I can’t think about this anymore.

  I put my phone on my nightstand and turn to my side so my back is to the phone.

  I lay there in the dark for another while until sleep finally takes me.

  I’m hitting something. Hard.

  My fist is hitting bone and flesh, but I don’t really feel it. And I can’t really see what or who I’m hitting until I finally pull away. I hear screams in the background. I get a glance at the face beneath me. I’m on top of Jimmy, Ariana’s younger brother. I’m hitting him.

  I can’t stop. I want to stop. His face is bleeding, and he’s passed out. I look at his face again, and I’m not hitting Jimmy anymore.

  I’m hitting myself, over and over, beating myself to a pulp.

  I sit straight up in bed, breathing like I literally ran away from the dream I just had.

  My breathing is loud, and I make myself stop making so much noise. I throw the covers off and sit on the edge of my bed. My shirt is soaked. There’s sweat dripping down my face. I look at my hands. I almost expect blood on them like in the nightmare.

  That’s all it was. A weird nightmare. No matter how real it felt. I’m here, and the past is in the past.

  I say that to myself over and over again as I lay back down.

  That wasn’t me. I’m not that person anymore. I try to go back to sleep, but it comes in fits as my mind keeps reminding me of the things I’ve done. And the people I’ve hurt.

  A few days later, I finally get a call back from an auto parts store I applied to. It doesn’t pay much, but at least it’s in the back stocking shelves and filling orders so I won’t have to talk to people much.

  The manager seems nice enough. The pay’s only a dollar fifty above minimum wage, but I’m more than happy to take it to get my mom off my back. It also means spending a lot less time at home.

  “So you’re available Wednesday through Sunday in the day?” he asks as he shows me around the employees’ lounge.

  I nod. “Yes, sir. And weekends and nights too if you need me.”

  He looks back at me. “You’re not in school or anything? Girlfriend?”

  I hesitate but manage an answer. “No, sir.”

  He nods. “Smart. About the girlfriend, I mean,” he says with a chuckle. “Eventually, you should get back in school, you know.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, even though I doubt that will ever happen. I’m just done with school.

  I look around. I think I’ll be fine here for a while. Only guys work here, which means I can focus a hundred percent on my job while I’m here. No problems.

  The manager, Tom, hands me three uniform shirts. “You’ll need to wear those with khaki pants.” Got some shopping to do, I guess.

  “Come in tomorrow morning at 8, and we’ll start your training. You’ll do that for a couple days, and then you’ll be on your own. But you’ll learn fast, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll be here,” I say.

  “Great. See you tomorrow.” He smiles and walks back into his office, shutting the door. I nod at the guy at the cash register. Finally, one good thing in my life.

  When I walk into my house, the first thing I see is my mom on the couch. Her shoes are on the floor, and her legs are curled behind her. I don’t think my dad’s home yet.

  My mom works for an insurance company, doing billing and stuff like that. It’s still pretty early in the day so I wonder what she’s doing home, but I’m not about to ask. I don’t feel like talking. I just had a big lunch, and I want to go straight to bed for a nap after not being able to sleep again last night.

  But before I can make it to the hall, she’s already saying something.

  “You didn’t take off your shoes at the door,” she says.

  She obviously didn’t take off her shoes at the door, but I don’t say anything. I just turn back around, open the front door, and slip off my shoes on our small porch.

  Our house isn’t very big, but my mom has always tried to make us look better off than we really are. Part of that is not allowing us to walk on the carpet with our shoes on. Like it’s not about twenty years old.

  I walk towards my room again, but she’s not done.

  “And what have you been doing al day?” she asks.

  I stop walking but only half turn towards her. I shrug. “Went to the auto parts store in town next to Kroger. I’m gonna start there tomorrow.”

  That’s all I feel like telling her. I don’t feel like going into detail about every single thing I did today.

  “You got a job there?” she says in disgust. “You should have told me you were actually looking. Maybe I could have helped you get something a little better. Well, I don’t know, actually, with you having a record now and all.”

  I sigh. Of course she knew I was looking for a job. But I wasn’t about to ask her for help.

  “Don’t worry, mom. I was able to find one on my own. Its not the best job, but I’ll find something better eventually.”

  And with that, she rolls her eyes, and I go to my room and shut the door.

  I pull out my wallet and sit on my bed. I’m pretty much out of cash. I have a few dollars left plus half a tank of gas. If I’m careful, I can make that
last until I get my first paycheck.

  “Carlos, you’ve been here a couple of weeks already. We really need you to start pitching in with bills.” My mom has her glasses on, and the computer’s in front of her along with a stack of bills.

  Probably her credit card bills.

  I finish drinking my glass of water. We just got done eating dinner like twenty minutes ago. My dad’s in the living room watching TV.

  I put the glass in the sink.

  “Mom, I just started working like a week ago. I haven’t gotten paid yet.”

  And I never thought I’d have to pay rent at my own home. Pitch in with bills, yeah. But actual rent?

  “Why does Carlos have to pay rent?” my dad says from the living room.

  My mom turns towards him, and I know she’s gotta be glaring at him right now.

  “Because we need to pay the bills, and Carlos is an adult now,” she says emphasizing every word, especially bills and adult.

  “Por Dios, Roberta. He just got out after six months, and you’re already nagging at him. Give him time to adjust.”

  My mom stands up and takes a few steps towards him, her back to me now. But she doesn’t let that stop her. She’s pointing at me and yelling.

  “And how do you think he’s going to learn to be a man if he lives here for free? He made very bad choices even after we raised him right. We did not raise him to turn into this!”

  Silence. For several seconds. Only the sound of my mom’s heavy breathing.

  She’s said things before, and I’ve learned to just take them. But she’s never gone this far.

  Until now.

  “How can you say that about your son?” my dad says. He’s still sitting down. He’s never been the confrontational type, so I’m surprised he’s speaking up now.

  “It’s okay, dad.” I say. “I don’t ever want to be a burden. As soon as I save enough money, I’m moving out.”

  Now it’s my dad’s turn to glare at my mom, and I’m leaving.