Chapter 3: Game On
Somehow the prospect of going to school on Monday felt even more horrible than the moment Ander got kicked out of Maison last Saturday night.
After snoozing his alarm eight times or so that morning, Ander dragged himself out of bed at last.
Well, at least his eyes were no longer bloodshot and his head didn't throb anymore. He had spent the entire Sunday lazing on the sofa, too hungover to actually do anything. It was a good thing his parents were out the entire day on a trip to a nearby town to visit some friends.
As he got ready in the bathroom, Ander stared at his reflection in the mirror and wondered at which point he'd started becoming such a lost mess.
Was it when he realized that he didn't have to – or want to – devote his entire life to tennis?
Or when he had his first taste of cocaine at a party he attended with Guzmán and Polo a few months back, and got hooked?
Or when he decided to step into Maison and get tangled up with people from San Patricio?
The answer: All of the above, probably.
Out of nowhere, an image of Reina appeared in his head. Her expressive yet unreadable dark eyes. The way she pursed her beautiful lips with skepticism at everything he said, but it was almost always followed by a throaty laugh. She was hot, she was icy, she was unstoppable.
And then the look of cold disdain when she found out he went to school at Las Encinas.
That would be his last memory of Reina. A raven-haired mystery that he would never unravel.
But it was all right. Life went on. And sure, his life was a depressing one, but what other choice did he have?
"Ander, Polo is going to hang out at my house. Coming?" Guzmán asked as he and Ander exited the classroom.
School was over for the day – Ander couldn't remember half of what the teachers had said, but who cares, right? He would just ask Guzmán for help with his homework later.
"I don't know. I'm feeling kinda tired," Ander replied with a shrug.
"Did I hear it right? You're too tired to hang out with your bros?" Polo had caught up with him and Guzmán, and the three of them strolled out of the school building together.
"What's wrong with you, Ander?" Guzmán looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't answer any of our texts over the weekend, either. Did something happen?"
Ander quickly shook his head. "I guess I'm just not feeling well. Maybe it's the flu or something."
"My friend, you know the best cure for that is a couple of beers," Polo proclaimed with a chuckle.
"Of which my house happens to have plenty of stock," Guzmán affirmed, a mischievous smile spreading over his freckled face.
It looked like Ander wouldn't be able to escape. "All right, I'm in."
Before anyone could say anything else, Ander glimpsed three boys in green school uniforms striding toward him. One of them was Eric, the one who alerted Reina about who Ander was. So that must meant that the other two boys were from San Patricio too. Great.
"Ander Muñoz!" The tallest boy shouted. He had a classically good-looking face, but right now it was twisted with rage.
Guzmán and Polo snapped their heads in the direction of the voice and were met with the three angry boys, all with arms crossed over their chests.
"What the hell?" Guzmán muttered under his breath.
Ander had a good hunch what this was about. "What do you want?" he called back, squinting his eyes slightly under the blazing afternoon sun.
"You made a death wish when you touched my girl on Saturday. And now I'm here to fulfill that death wish for you."
"Hey, man. Just calm down," Polo said. "Are you sure you got the right person?"
"Ask him yourself," Eric spoke, jaw clenched. "I was there when it all happened. And so far he hasn't denied anything, has he?"
"Ander, is this true?" Guzmán hissed at Ander. "I recognize their uniforms. These guys are from San Patricio. The last people we want to piss off."
Ander let out a huge sigh before he addressed the tallest boy. "Look, man. What happened on Saturday was a mistake. I didn't know Reina has a boyfriend. And I don't intend to talk to her ever again, all right?"
"You're damn right about it being a mistake. Now you'll have to pay."
"Hey, back off," Guzmán said, stepping forward. "You San Patricio punks are acting tough but don't forget, you're in our territory."
"As if we're afraid of you Las Encinas losers," the third boy replied with a smirk.
"Yeah. Call as much backup as you want. We'll fight each and every one of you," Tall Boy declared.
"Look, you only have a problem with me," Ander pointed out. "So let's just settle it between the both of us. Nobody else needs to get involved."
Smirky Boy snorted. "You made it a problem for all of us the moment you laid eyes on our Reina." He began cracking his knuckles.
"Bloody hell," Polo cursed softly. "Ander, this Reina girl had better be worth it. Looks like we're all in this whether we like it or not."
"Bring it on then," Guzmán said, dropping his backpack to the floor.
Ander wasn't a big fan of fights. But Polo was right – they were being dragged into this and there was no way of walking away.
Following Guzmán's cue, Ander proceeded to throw his backpack to the floor as well. He was in the middle of throwing off his school blazer when he heard Christian's voice.
"Gentlemen, what is going on here?" Christian nonchalantly planted himself right in between the two groups.
"Who the hell are you?" Eric growled at Christian.
Unfazed, Christian extended his hand to Eric. "The name is Christian. Christian Varela Expósito."
Eric answered with a glare. "You want to be the first to get beaten up, Christian Varela Expósito?"
"Christian, stay out of this," Guzmán chimed in with a low voice, barely concealing his impatience. "You're not even part of Las Encinas."
"What? I go to school here, don't I?" Christian chuckled. Then he turned to the San Patricio boys. "Look, I prefer a more civilized way to settle whatever dispute that's happening here."
Christian grinned as he continued, "Maybe even something fun. What do you say?"
Tall Boy rolled his eyes. "What a fucking joke. Are you suggesting we have a picnic?"
"Well, if that's what floats your boat..." Christian shrugged good-naturedly. "But you look like a man with more refined taste. Let me guess – your favorite drink at the club is a row of Patrón tequila shots?"
Tall Boy smirked. "Close. I like my tequila mixed with whiskey."
"Nice." Christian nodded his approval. "So I have a proposal for you. But first, it'll be nice to get your name...?"
"Matteo," Tall Boy grunted, still eyeing Christian suspiciously.
"Matteo! Great. Now, a couple of us were planning to hit Club54 this Saturday. We'd be happy if you and your friends could join us. We can have a drinking competition. Tequila and whiskey shots. What do you say?"
Matteo glanced at the other two boys before he turned back to Christian. "What does the winner get?"
Christian thought for a second. "The winner gets 10 punches onto anyone he likes. How does that sound?"
"Noel? Eric? Are we in?" Matteo asked his friends, who shrugged. "Fine, little man. You have a deal," he told Christian.
Christian then looked at Ander, Guzmán and Polo. "Are we good with this?"
Ander sighed. "Fine. Whatever."
"Let's do this," Guzmán said.
Polo nodded in agreement. "Game on."