My Brother’s Best Friend

******Author's Note: Hey guys! I hope this actually gets published, and if it does and someone reads this I just want you to know that this is a slow burn. It is also currently in progress. I have some things that I want to do, but I'm also fluid with it at the end of the day. So, please bare with me that it is probably not going to be perfect and I would love your critiques as a writer!! Or even your suggestions on where the story should go! But for right now this is just a story that took place in my imagination after watching Steven Spielberg's version of West Side Story and Selma Hayek in Fools Rush In. As much as I love interracial relationships being able to cross barriers, I thought to myself that I would also love to see a latinx/latinx story. But I don't see a lot of those except for on FX's POSE. However, I thought to myself I'll just write one myself. Please understand that I am a black american writer writing hispanic american characters and although I will do my research to make it accurate to reflect this beautiful culture and community...personally I am just an outsider who's looking in and trying to write from their perspective. Do not be afraid to correct me if you feel these characters aren't being authentically represented as I WILL change them to do them justice!! Also, I just want to say I'm a college student who writes when the inspiration hits. And I apologize if there are no back to back updates. Nonetheless, I will try to not leave this story in the dark as I do have a 1st act, 2nd act, and 3rd act in mind and have written notes down! It's all about writing it! here is what I have so far! I hope you enjoy this journey with me!! ********

When I turned fifteen years old my older brother Ricardo made a statement that embarrassed me. During his speech at my party, he said that even though I was now a grown woman in the eyes of God and my family, he would only let me date his best friend Paco. And any other man that I brought him to meet would meet with his fists instead. At the time, everyone laughed and even my precious father agreed.

So, I've always known that my brother Ricardo wants me to marry Paco. And because of this, it became like an unspoken rule in our house. So, any boys that did offer to take me out had to be done in secret.

Like tonight with Johnny McCormick. I met him while working at the grocery mart up the street from my house. He always comes in to buy milk or eggs for his mom and he makes it a point to flirt with me. He is smart, funny, and more handsome than a movie star. The best part, though...is that he is NOT Paco.

"You look great," Johnny tells me as he glances over.

I'm sitting in the passenger seat of his red car. Tonight we are going to a movie. But my brother Ricardo thinks I am hanging out with my friend Aña.

"Thank you," I say self consciously as I touch my hair.

I only had but so long to change at Aña's house before I met Johnny at the front of the store where Aña and I work. I picked a white dress, my favorite. And because Aña insisted...I even added on some of her red lipstick.

I try to casually glance at my reflection in the driver mirror. But all I can see is that my long, dark hair is cascading over my shoulder. My heart is beating so fast that I can barely make eye contact with Johnny.

I've never been on a date before. Barely even ever held hands with a boy. Instead, I've always been sheltered. Forced to stay at home for most of my eighteen years of life. Even going to Aña's isn't always guaranteed. Because I was constantly under the watchful eye of my father and now my older brother.

To them, I was and am my mother reincarnated. And I have to be protected in case they would risk losing me, as well. And although I know my father meant the best and my brother does too, it can be suffocating.

"Relax," Johnny says as if he can feel my nerves himself.

I turn to look at him a little, still scared to meet his eyes. But I manage a smile.

"I am relaxed," I lied.

He grins.

"Good," He says and with that statement, he puts the car in drive.

It doesn't take us long to get to the theater. This town is so small that we could have walked there if we wanted to.

So, I can't help but duck my head and hold my breath as I see the line leading to the doors. I pray silently that no one I know will be here tonight. I pray even harder that Ricardo himself isn't out here tonight with my sister-in-law Maria.

I orchestrated this night perfectly, though. So, I am sure that they won't be unless they somehow changed their mind and decided to go out for the night.

Ever since our father moved on to the next life last summer, Ricardo has been keen about family. He finally proposed to his long time girlfriend. Which made me happy because I already love Maria like a real sister. And she moved in with us after they wed in the fall.

But living at home with two newlyweds has opened my eyes to a lot of things I didn't know about before. Namely, sex.

Now, of course I've always had an idea of what sex is. Even though Papi and Ricardo refused to say anything when I got my first period. Instead they sent me to one of our older neighbors and had her explain it to me.

In school all we learn about is pregnancy and the big no is not to become a girl in trouble. But no one ever talks about how to get in trouble in the first place.

Aña and I are both virgins, so there is no point in asking her. And I always felt too embarrassed to get details from Maria on how things work. Especially since she does those kinds of things with my brother.

But when Maria did move in, it was like a door was open for me into that world. Whether I liked it or not.

At night I hear noises that I never heard before because of my mother passing away when I was so young. And by noises I mean sounds of box springs on beds squeaking, headboards hitting against the wall, rhythmic thuds. It is like music if I listen to it in a certain way.

And of course there is also singing. The singing comes from Maria mostly but also sometimes my brother will join her. I'll lay in my bed and listen as they sing to one another, loud and clear. Begging. Pleading. Gasping. Moaning. Groaning. Whispering. Clapping. Smacking. Sometimes they will even say one another's names.

Then, there will come a point where they really get loud. As if they are at the main part in their symphony. And I'll be honest...

It sounds beautiful.

And after they reach that point, they will stop. The bed will squeak once last time. There sometimes is one last sigh. Or one last whisper.

And it is over.

Unless, of course...there is an encore. Which happens often after a few hours. I will wake up in the middle of the night to pee and I will hear them going at it again.

I've never told Maria or Ricardo that I can hear them at night. Instead, I try my best to act like I don't hear anything that happens when they go to bed. Even when I see them sneak one another a kiss in front of me or a pat on a body part that no one else is ever supposed to touch, I act like I don't see anything.

It is too intimate for me to point it out or say something. And in my heart, I know it is not wrong. This is what married people do. This is also what it is like to be in love.

And through the nightly noises and the quick touches in the house when they think my back is turned, I came to learn about what can happen between a man and a woman.

My eyes dash towards Johnny again and I can't help but blush at the thought of him kissing me on the lips the way I've seen Ricardo kiss Maria. Johnny is handsome. Like I wrote before, more handsome than a movie star.

I feel lucky that he is interested in a girl like me. Boys like him aren't supposed to go after tan, swarthy girls who have hair on their arms and eyes so brown you can barely tell they aren't black. Boys like him usually go for girls who are fair, with light eyes and who have blonde hair.

"You ready?" Johnny's voice brings me back to the present and I realize we are parked already.

"Y-yes," I say.

He smiles. Then he gets out of the car and comes over to open my door for me. I take his hand and he shuts it behind me as I do. And to my surprise, he doesn't let go of my grasp. Instead, we walk hand and hand like that towards the theater.

It feels good to have his fingers around mine. They feel warm and I find myself leaning into him.

"You can grab my arm," He tells me as he looks down at me.

I blush. But I timidly hook my other hand to grasp his arm. My heart is skyrocketing out of my chest right now. And my legs feel shaky as if they are about to break. Even my breathing seems to be difficult.

If I weren't so blissfully happy, I would swear I am dying. But this is what it must feel like. I know it. This is what it must feel like to be in love.