PART ICHAPTER ONE

Vince

Then...

"Spread your feet, boy." The cop kicked Vince's legs open before he even had a chance to spread them.

Another cop car pulled up, joining the other three that were already there. Vince was not even supposed to be here tonight. He knew when the guys showed up riled up about what had happened at school earlier that day it was a bad idea to buy booze and hang out. He'd already said he was out but at the last minute decided to join them.

Sure enough, as soon as a few of them got buzzed, they started talking about walking the two blocks from the abandoned car lot where they'd been hanging out to their high school and crossing out the offending tags they were so pissed about.

Now here he was face down on the hood of a cop car as a cop frisked him roughly. Most likely, he would be thrown in jail for vandalism. He hadn't even been one of the ones doing the tagging. In fact, he'd been the one telling them they were stupid for doing it.

They didn't call themselves a gang, but they may as well have because they sure as fuck acted like stupid thugs sometimes—like tonight, for example. The guys were all pissed because someone had tagged several of the more noticeable walls at school with the word Basset: the city just over on the other side of their high school.

Alfonso, one of Vince's friends since childhood, had gotten in a fight over a girl with someone from a Basset gang not too long ago. They'd all been there at the party, so everyone took the tagging personally. Everyone agreed they had to cross the tag out. As stupid as Vince thought it was, he agreed to go out of loyalty to his friends, but he refused to do any tagging. It didn't matter now because they were all in trouble just the same.

"What's your name, boy?" The heavyset cop asked Vince from behind him as he handcuffed him.

"Vincent." He squeezed his eyes shut for a second and thought of how disappointed his parents would be. The cop turned him around so he could face him.

"Vincent what?"

"Moreno."

"How old are you, Moreno?"

"Sixteen."

"You in a gang?"

"No sir."

"You sure about that?" The cop asked gesturing toward his friends.

Vince glanced over at Alfonso who was now sitting on the curb handcuffed then at the rest of them who were still lying face down on the ground with their legs spread and their hands behind their heads. Not a gang his ass.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"You were the only one without a marker in your possession or doing any tagging when I drove up. Why's that? You the look out, Moreno?"

"No sir."

The cop smiled, crossing his arms in front of him. "So you hang out with a bunch of punks who come and cross out another gang's tags, but you're not in a gang?"

"No, sir, I'm not." As stupid as that sounded, he was sticking to his story. The last thing he needed was to get labeled a gang member by the local authorities. For months he'd been trying to straighten his shit out.

After his brother Lorenzo had gotten caught shoplifting and his mother blamed Vince for being a bad influence even though he'd never stolen a thing in his life, he swore to her he'd straighten out.

Vince didn't even let Lorenzo hang out with him and the guys anymore if he even thought they'd be up to anything that smelled like trouble—like tonight. He was so glad now he'd refused to let Lorenzo tag along. Being arrested would be bad enough, but getting his younger brother swept up into this mess would've been a million times worse.

"I'll tell you what," the cop said. "You tell me who the ringleader of your little non-gang here is, and I'll let you walk."

Vince chuckled. This cop was full of shit if he thought Vince was going to rat out any of his friends. Living in La Puente his whole life, he knew the drill when it came to cops. Gathering gang information was crucial to them so they could go after them, and their biggest targets were always the gang leaders. He'd sooner go to jail than throw any of his friends under the bus. Besides, as bad as this looked, he wasn't in a gang, damn it.

"I already told you I'm not in a gang, so there are no ring leaders."

The cops smile went flat, and he grabbed Vince by the arm. "Suit yourself."

He walked him over to the curb and sat him down next to Alfonso. Vincent thought about what his parents' reaction would be when they got the call. His mother would probably cry; his father would be completely disappointed, and he'd be in a world of trouble if his parents, who were already struggling financially, had to pay any fines for this shit.

One by one, all his friends were frisked, questioned, handcuffed then were seated down on the curb. Their Miranda rights were read, and the paddy wagon arrived. They all filed in and sat down. By now enough people from the neighborhood had gathered, so his parents would probably know about his arrest before he even called them. Fucking hell!

***

Legally Vince got off easy. Because he'd been the only one not in possession of any marker and the cops did write in their report that he hadn't been seen tagging like all the others, he wasn't charged with a misdemeanor like all his other friends. But because he'd been a willing participant in trespassing on school grounds and most likely because the judge wanted to send him and his family a message that this kind of shit would not go unpunished in case he was thinking of doing it again, his parents were going to be fined, and he'd have to do some community work.

To say his mom was livid was putting it lightly, but his dad's reaction was what really got to him. They'd only just started getting along in the last few years. Vince had resented that his dad was gone so much when he was younger. He was just a kid, and he didn't understand it, but he'd since come to respect that his father was doing the only thing he could to support his family. His mother told him his dad was working, but he had so many friends whose mothers would say the same type of things to them about their fathers, and it'd turn out they were in jail or were busy spending time with their real families, so Vince didn't know what to believe.

Vince lashed out, getting in trouble left and right, and when his father would return after months of being gone, he'd still be so patient with him and tell him he knew he was angry but that someday he'd understand. Now that he did, he felt bad about the amount of crap he'd put his parents through over the years and was determined to make it up to them, but now this happened.

His father, while obviously upset, was still the epitome of patience: patience Vince knew he didn't deserve. He almost wished his father would actually yell at him, maybe even slap him around like some of his other friends' parents had done. Instead, he sat him down and had a one-on-one while his mother slammed cabinet doors and dishes around in the kitchen, cussing in Spanish.

He even called Lorenzo into the room to talk to them both. "I want you both to hear this. You two are better than this. I know what it's like to be your age and make bad choices. Sometimes it's necessary for things like this to happen, so you learn. You may not have been tagging, Vince, but your decision to be there with them cost you. What's done is done, but I don't want this to be all for nothing. What I want you to do now is take something from this experience. Learn that nothing good comes from making choices that you know in your gut are bad, yet you still go along with them. Know that one bad decision can cost you dearly. Now you got off easy this time, but next time you may not be so lucky. Always think about what's at stake. What do you stand to lose? Is it worth it? Ninety-nine percent of the time, you'll find it's not."

***

Plucked out of his dream as the bedroom door swung open, Vince squinted at the sight of his mother who stood at the doorway with a puckered expression. "Get up and get ready, Vicente. We're leaving in a half hour."

With that she was gone. It'd been a couple weeks since the whole getting arrested thing had gone down. Ever since, this is what his conversations with his mother consisted of—strained orders. She could hardly stand to look at him for very long, but Vince knew he deserved it. He'd let her down one time too many, and now he'd have to prove himself all over again.

Pulling himself up on his elbow, Vince turned to his brother Lorenzo who lay in the other bed. Lorenzo turned over, closing his eyes and making himself comfortable again.

"How come you don't have to go to this shit?"

Without even opening his eyes Lorenzo mumbled, "Because I'm not grounded like you, remember?"

Vince let his head hang back with a groan. God, he hated these family functions with his perfect cousins who were just another reminder to his parents of what he was not. Normally he'd have a choice to stay home and clean or come along, of which he happily chose the former. Now he had no choice. As his mother put it so bluntly, since he couldn't be trusted to behave without parental supervision, he'd be treated like the irresponsible punk he'd proven himself to be. He'd now be taken along everywhere with mommy and daddy.

Even a simple trip like this to a family party was digging deep into his parents' pockets. Gas wasn't cheap, and his cousins didn't live close. They'd also have to buy a gift. But this added expense, one they might've ducked out of, was necessary—necessary because of Vince.

After a shower and grabbing what was left of the chorizo with eggs, he got dressed. He now sat grudgingly in the back seat of his dad's old Cutlass ready to make the two-hour drive to La Jolla. At his mother's request he'd worn something suitable for a baby shower–not just any baby shower either. His Aunt Isabel was notorious for going all out, and this would no doubt be huge, especially since the shower was for their first granddaughters—twins to boot!

His mother had allowed the jeans and the newer dark sneakers he'd chosen, but he was forced to wear one of his dad's polo shirts.

As they walked into the backyard, Vince frowned at how these parties seemed to get bigger and bigger every time. The huge canopy covered almost the entire backyard. There were balloons everywhere, and the tables were as professionally decorated as they had been every time he'd attended one of these functions. He'd gotten out of attending most of them, but he and Lorenzo had been dragged along to the bigger ones, like all the weddings and wedding showers.

They stood there near the gate. His dad was already mingling with some of the relatives they hadn't seen since the last one of these parties. His oldest cousin Sal made his way through the crowd, and to Vince's surprise, Sal was introducing what appeared to be a girlfriend to everyone.

Vince laughed to himself and was about to nudge his mom to let her in on how her theory about Sal holding out on love to put his career first and to get more restaurants going was a bust. Bringing a chick to a family party of this size could mean only one thing—it was serious. Then he spotted the young girl with them.

Curious, Vince continued to watch as Sal introduced them to the next table they came to. Had Cupid not only nailed Sal finally, but also saddled him with an insta-family?

As they came around giving Vince a clearer view, he thought better of it. The girl whose hand Sal held was way too young to be the other girl's mom. They were probably sisters. There was a definite resemblance. The younger girl came around the table also. Vince's eyes were immediately on her long, tanned legs. She wore a short, denim skirt that showed off the muscle along the side of her upper thighs and calves nicely—an athlete.

Vince smiled, remembering the senior on the cross country team he'd hooked up with a few times. He loved running his hands up and down those soft but very firm legs. The young girl with Sal and his girlfriend looked up, meeting his eyes for just an instant until her attention was called back to the older lady she was being introduced to. Cute.

Maybe this party wouldn't be such a drag after all. She looked to be about Vince's age, maybe a tad younger. Even at sixteen, Vince was used to older girls, but he'd had his share of younger ones, too. Like most of the kids in his neighborhood, even the girls weren't immune to growing up too fast: something his mother reminded him and Lorenzo of often. She'd warned them that they could barely afford the cell phones and Internet service at their place. Grandbabies were nowhere in their budget, so they'd better "keep it in their pants." Thankfully, their dad being more realistic had provided him and his brother with a longer talk. The talk had ended with a box of condoms, and he'd made them promise that if they needed more, they'd come to him no questions asked.

He watched as Sal, his girlfriend, and the younger girl continued to zigzag their way through the crowded backyard, stopping at just about every table.

"Let's get a table before there are none left." His mother hurried in the same direction Sal and his girlfriend headed.

Just as Sal and the two girls got to one of the last empty tables available, Vince's mom reached and claimed the remaining seats at the same table. Perfect.