Print

Unavailable Love - Chapter 2

Show me a good time. Comment please.
-Charlotte-

After spending a while roaming around the resort, I decided to sit by the pool. I flipped through the magazines I had purchased at the airport, but none of them appealed to me. I was just plain bored. Scanning the pool scene, there were few kids and groups of guys and girls, but none of them looked inviting or friendly. My eye caught the boy at the poolside stand, who I had bought water from earlier. So picking up my bag, I decide to strike a conversation with him.

"Hey," I approach the empty stand.

"Hi, how can I help you?" He smiled, obviously a tad nervous in my presence. He wasn't bad looking either. Hispanic, but his curly hair swooped in front of his brown eyes. He had a gorgeous smile that I could see him using to get extra tips from the older women. He was surprisingly tall, taller than me, at 5'10.

"What's your name?" I asked, leaning against the counter.

"Marco." He tells me. There was some kind of tension in the air, yet I couldn't figure out what it was yet.

"Well, Marco. You seem like the most mature out of your little group of friends, so tell me. What's there to do around here?" I ask smiling at my little game.

"Well, there's the club or the sports bar. They have pool and other games in there. We also have a spa, if you're interested." He gave me the same polished answer his friend gave earlier.

"Sounds boring." I sigh, leaning away from the counter.

"Have you ever been to L.A. before?" He asked me curiously flirting with me.

"Once, but I didn't find it that interesting." I shrugged.

"Let me and my friends show you around." He offers, "Well, that is unless you have family you're visiting with."

"My mother could care less about where I am." I jump at the chance he was dangling in front of me.

"Alright, I get off in fifteen, meet me by the back gate," Marco gives me a wink.

"See you then," I began to back away when he caught me again.

"Ay!" He called out, making me turn around. "What's your name, chica?"

"Charlotte." I answer.

"Charlotte, don't wear anything too nice," he warns me with a crooked smile before letting me go.

*****************************************************************************

-Marco-

"You invited her to hang out with us?!" Diego practically screamed as we waited for her. I kicked my sneakers against the cement. I stared at the rock I was kicking around.

"She wanted me to show her a good time, she said." I told them.

"Do you even know her name?" Felix put me in the hot seat.

"It's Charlotte."

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous chica." Felix smiled. He was right, she was flawless. I almost choked when she approached me this afternoon. She wasn't my type though. She was a rich white girl with not a problem in the world that money couldn't fix.

"Here she comes," Diego hissed nodding in her direction.

"Hey, Marco!" She waved, as she walked down the alley. Wearing a purple studded leather jacket, jeans with high-top sneakers, she looked ready to face the streets.

"Hey, girl." Felix nodded at her. She shot him a glare. I introduced her to them before she asked, "So what's the plan?"

"Depends, how much of L.A. do you wanna see?" Diego stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Depends, how much of L.A. is there to see?" She raised an eyebrow, ready to challenge him.

"Chica, where we come from, the largest house is a three bedroom, the dogs purpose is to protect the house, and no one owns a pair of jeans that cost more than $25." Diego explained.

"I'm not an innocent porcelain doll. Let's go." She stays fierce, unfazed by his description of what we call home. Getting in the car, I open the door for her and she slid in. The car ride was long and quite with her there. She stared out the window, watching as the income in houses, went down as we got closer and closer to our side of town.

When Diego parked the car, we were at the playgrounds with an open field next to it. The crew was already waiting for us after Felix texted them, informing them we were attending the match.

"So, Charlotte," Diego catches her eyes in his rearview mirror. "Do you like soccer?"

"I've never played." She told us, making our jaws drop.

"Get ready for one badass game." Felix smirked, getting out of the car.

Walking up to the crew was the most awkward part of the evening. They stared at her as if she wasn't real.

"Who is she?" Irene draped herself around Alex, watching her competition.

"Charlotte." She spoke for herself.

"And what corner did you pick her off of, Diego?" She glared at Charlotte.

"Honey, I have more class than you." Charlotte looked unharmed, able to hold her own.

"Oh, you think so?" Irene, got off the picnic table, getting face to face with Charlotte.

"Sweetheart, I know so." Charlotte gave her a bittersweet smile. This threw Irene off, she shoved Charlotte's shoulders.

"Ven a mi chica," Irene started yelling at her in Spanish. Before Charlotte could hit back, I wrapped my arms around her and Alex did the same to Irene.

"Cool off, chicas!" Jose yelled, his voice booming over the field. They both stopped squirming in our arms. "Let's get this game started. Come on, boys." Alex and I let go of the girls, trusting them to behave. Felix, Diego, and I threw off our jackets wearing our white jerseys. I watched Charlotte as she took her place at the picnic table, as far away from Irene as she could. Crossing her legs and straightening her posture, she looked so out of place, which made me chuckle.

*****************************************************************************

-Charlotte-

My introduction to Marco's group of friends didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped. But I wasn't going to back down to her level. I kept my head high, and took my seat next to a small girl with dark curls that looked unable to be tamed with a hair brush.

"Hi, I'm Dia." She beamed at me.

"Charlotte," I hesitate, but return to smile.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but you are beautiful." She complemented. Slightly taken back, I thank her for her nice comment. "Have you ever been to one of these soccer games?"

"No, not at all." I tell her, watching the boys as they prepare to play.

"Do you get sick at the sight of blood?" She asked the peculiar question.

"No?" I give her a puzzled expression.

"Good." She sighed. Unsure of what she meant, I turned to watch the game. It was nice to know I had made a friend.
By
Published: 8/18/2012
Bouquets and Brickbats | What Others Said