Page 5 of His Team

Then suddenly, my mother started to change everything. I was so mad at her for taking my dream away. Then I found a box in her room with letters from my dad. One for every single birthday from the time I turned two.

Birthday cards, letters to check up on me and see if mom would allow me to see him—all addressed to my grandmother’s place in the Bronx. My anger with my mom only grew and I decided to set out to find my dad, hoping he would step in and be a dad.

He stepped in all right. My quinceañera was one for the books. My father never had another child, so he spoiled me with everything I wanted.

Not only did he spoil me with a huge birthday party and more attention than a girl could ask for, he demanded custody from my mom and took me to live with him.

I spent two years with my dad, getting to know him and the other side of my family. My father and mother are both mixed Black and Latino. However, I was raised more in the Afro-Latino community with my mom. My dad’s family opened my eyes up more to my black heritage as well as submerging me into a life of luxury.

If I could explain my life with my father and his family, it would be black excellence meets soul food. At least, that’s what I got on the surface. I was too enamored to see the truth of what was going on.

Things were going fine until I turned seventeen. At seventeen, I was introduced to the Demarco family. Everything changed as they entered the picture.

Especially the second oldest son, Dez Demarco. I thought nothing of it in the beginning. Then my father told me I would be marrying him.

Don’t get me wrong, Dez is handsome and all that, but I would like to find my own husband. Thank you very much. I also don’t plan to marry for my father’s business interests.

Then there is this look in Dez’s eyes that always unsettles me. Something might be off with that man. In fact, I’m sure there is something dark about him.

So here I am in Texas, doing my best to avoid my fiancé and impending marriage. I have four years to figure out how to get out of this situation because I’m not marrying Dez. I don’t care who he is or what my father wants.

Trust fund or not, this isn’t going to happen. I’m not sure what planet they woke up on with that dumbass idea, but I’m not having it. I mean, who threatens to cut their daughter off if she doesn’t marry some random—to her—guy?

My mom hasn’t said I told you so, but I feel like she should. The look in her eyes when I told her I would be coming here to attend college said it all. She knows I’m running from something.

I didn’t tell her about what my father wants or about the Demarcos but I didn’t have to. She knew something had gone wrong with my dad when I moved back a month before leaving for college.

“Is this seat taken?” A girl with red hair and freckles sprinkled across her light-brown face says with a bright smile on her face.

“Nope, not at all,” I reply.

Without standing up, I know I would tower over this girl. She’s petite with a lithe but shapely figure. I’d take her for a dancer if not for the camera bag slung over her shoulder instead of a pair of ballet shoes.

I quickly note she seems like another transplant from her long red locks and sweeping bangs, not to mention her outfit and the East Coast skater vibe.

I return her bright smile as she sits down next to me because it’s infectious and because she’s giving off cool energy. I can’t spend four years staying to myself. I guess she’s as good as anyone else to start making friends with.

“I’m Taylor. It’s nice to meet you,” she says and holds out her hand.

“Maribel. Nice to meet you too.”

I take her hand and shake it. The way her eyes light up makes me think I’ve just made my first new friend. We settle in our seats and look ahead, waiting for the orientation to start.

Taylor looks around us, then pulls out the packet they gave us. I haven’t even looked at the thing yet. I’m only here because I didn’t want to go back to my room.

I don’t think things are going to work out between me and my roommate. Something I’m going to need to figure out. I’m not about to live with that for a year.

“Is it me, or do you feel like such a nerd being here? I knew I should have skipped this,” Taylor leans over to whisper.

“Are you calling me a nerd?” I say with a straight face.

I hold her gaze and place a little scowl on my face as I narrow my eyes. Taylor’s face turns near purple, causing me to burst into laughter. That one was priceless.

“Oh my God, I totally thought you were serious,” Taylor breathes in relief.

My sarcasm has to be one of my greatest features. It’s the delivery. I nail it every time.

“You haven’t told a lie. I wouldn’t be here if my roommate wasn’t irritating,” I say.

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