Page 73 of Explosive Prejudice

Knowing very well that I never gave empty threats, Andrei did the smart thing and left. I knew this wasn’t over, but right now, I couldn’t bear another moment of seeing his face and listening to his voice.

Furious, I turned to face the wall. With my head and hands pressed against it, I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut so I’d stop seeing red. Blood pounded in my ears until it was hard to think of anything but the need to break something.

“Camilo.”

Snapping my eyes open, I looked to the side and found Shay-Lee standing in the hall. His lips were set in a hard line, and his brows knitted close while his eyes watched me with what I could only explain as concern.

“I didn’t want you to hear all of that,” I said, feeling like a complete piece of shit simply because I couldn’t stomach seeing the worry on his face. Not knowing what else to say, I rubbed the back of my head. “I’m gonna smoke.”

As I walked away, Shay-Lee grabbed my arm, pulling me close. Coughing, he cleared his throat. “It’s okay for them to blame me, you know? I am at fault. You don’t need to fight Andrei because of me. It isn’t right.” He rubbed his cheek while looking anywhere but at me.

This guy… he really knew how to be cute.

“What you did to them was terrible. Criminal even, but it doesn’t matter, at least not to me.” I massaged the bridge of my nose. “What happened to Miles wasn’t your fault. He was the one who chose to take those pills. He’s the one who chose the easy way out by being selfish.” I held no sympathy for Miles, not in the slightest. Did he stop, even for a second, to consider anyone else but himself before trying to kill himself? I knew it wasn’t Miles I was thinking about but my mamá. It was just easier to take the anger out on him because he was here. Someone got to him on time. But what if they hadn’t? Andrei would have been eaten away by guilt for the rest of his life and been the one to carry the pain Miles left in his wake.

“I still contributed to it,” he whispered hoarsely. “If it weren’t for me, they would have never fought.”

“And if it weren’t for us going to BH, Andrei and Miles would have never met, and none of this would’ve happened, right?”

His eyes shot to mine, and he looked confused before nodding. “Right.”

“What I’m saying is that ‘what if’ is an idiotic excuse. It’s complete bullshit. We can’t control life; assuming our actions won’t affect others is blunt stupidity. So yeah, even though you played a dangerous game, it wasn’t your fault Miles was suicidal. Instead of being fucking responsible, taking his meds and letting Andrei know he’s bipolar, Miles lied and eventually did something extremely cowardly.”

Shay-Lee shook his head. “How can you say that?”

“Because suicide is fucking selfish,” I hissed, throwing my hand in the air. “All you think about is how to end your own suffering, not giving a shit about the pain you’ll leave behind.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I continued. “That’s what I was trying to tell you last night. Killing yourself doesn’t do any justice. It only causes more pain in an already bleeding world.”

Every word I said came from the bottom of my heart, flooding me with more anger until it was so thick and vivid I could feel it weighing on my shoulders, spreading in my blood and pulsing in my veins. And with the anger also came the memories. Memories that forced me to feel the scars underneath my skin of the wounds that never quite healed.

I could never forgive Mamá for leaving Iván and me alone with that monster we called a father. I could never forgive her for forgetting she had two sons. Mostly, I could never forgive her because if she were still here, I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did. Angry. Damaged. Broken. But like I said, “what if” was an irrelevant state of mind. A pointless gimmick invented by morons.

Suddenly, some of my anger began to float away, and it took me a second to realize why. Looking down, I found Shay-Lee’s hand holding mine. Our fingers tangled together in such an intimate gesture that kept spreading warmth through my body, chasing all the angst and fury away.

When I looked up at him, his eyes still held concern but also empathy. Understanding.

“Who was it?” he asked, his calm voice breaking the silence.

“Mi madre.”

I never told anyone in my life about her. Absolutely no one. Chief knew, but only from what he read about me in my file. I never told a soul because, for me, her suicide was a dark stain—the darkest piece of my soul. You could say I was ashamed of it, of her, of how broken she left me and how she managed to ruin me in one single moment.

Just now, Shay-Lee had become the first person in my life whom I shared this part of myself with—the only one who had ever made me want to share it.

Clenching my hand tighter, he hardened his gaze.

“I’m so sorry it happened to you,” he said, his thumb caressing my skin. “Do you want to tell me more?”

Breaking our stare, I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a long breath.

“First, I need a cigarette.”

Diesel

“Vamos, peque.”

Iván’s shout chased away the stray kitten I was scratching on its back. Disappointed, I stood, brushing the dirt away from my jeans. They weren’t really my jeans, at least not originally. They used to belong to Iván, but they were too small for him, so I got them. They were a little big on me, but Mamá folded the hem, saying I’d fill them out before I knew it.

“Didn’t you hear me calling for you?” my brother asked as he stopped beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

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