k a r r i s

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I rarely turned down my best friend for an evening of trouble. But don't get it twisted -- for Berkley and I, trouble equated to sleepovers with scary movies and junk food. No, I wasn't sick, nor did I have any sacred family engagements to be at that forced me to deny myself an evening of ice cream and horror flicks. It was worse. It was the workings of a being so evil, Satan himself would swerve.

Ashton.

It was the first session of many in which I had to tutor the hockey captain. To say I wasn't looking forward to it was an understatement. Normally I was always up for a good challenge, but Ashton was in a whole different league. He was arrogant, pretentious, moody, and rude. I wanted to know more about my brother but when it came at this price, I wasn't so sure anymore.

"Aye! Anak," My mother's eyes were wide as she gawked at me through her glasses, looking up from the paperwork in front of her. She sat at the dining room table with a glass of wine nearby to keep her sane as she looked through some patient files.

(translation: child)

"Yes, mom?" I answered, keeping my concentration on the glass bowl in my arms as I vigorously churned the deep colored viscous concoction.

"Don't over mix," she advised, "the brownies will be too firm."

"Why do I have to make brownies when you're not even going to let me eat them?" I carped, setting the bowl on top of the counter with an irritated sigh. "Ashton doesn't even deserve them."

"Anak ko," mom stood up from the chair, its legs squeaking against the tiled floors. With an exhale she reprimanded, "tama na; don't be so rude."

(translation: my child; stop or enough)

"Ashton is your guest and you should make him feel like home. I raised you better than this," my mom took the glass pan that was sitting next to the bowl of mix before spritzing it down with non-stick spray.

"Sorry," I apologized, feeling guilty for my not-so-kind remarks.

My parents really did raise me better; they raised both my brother and I better than this. Growing up, my parents went out of their way to make any guests feel like home. Whether it were cousins visiting, or just Berkley spending the night, anyone who stepped through our front door immediately became family.

"As long as you understand that you are an extension of your dad and I," mom continued, pouring the brownie mixture into the greased pan. "This family has been in the papers all summer; I still get looks from people at the store. The reporters will say what they want, but they will never strike down the Villanueva family's honor."

I nodded my head, resting it on my mom's shoulder, "I'm sorry, again."

"Mahal kita, baby," mom gave me a hug and I could feel the warmth through her touch, suddenly missing the simple gesture only a mother's love could propel. 

(translation: I love you)

For the next 45 minutes, my mother and I bonded in the kitchen -- something we hadn't done in a long time. We played music, singing along to Drake and Rihanna as the two of us mixed, cooked, sauteed, and prepared more than just brownies for my study session with Ashton.

But the hockey captain wouldn't be the only lucky one of the night -- I was lucky too. Because for the first time in a real long time, I had my mother to myself. Ever since Gabe, it was always work, meetings with lawyers, or sleep. And the short drive to school on the days my mom dropped me off, never consisted of fun conversations and sing-a-longs. But spending time with my mom one-on-one, even though it was for an arrogant hockey player, filled my soul with bliss. Once again, Ashton had some kind of control over my life without being physically present, but this time, I was okay with it.

Buzz. Buzz.

In the midst of seizing all of my study materials from my bedroom, my phone vibrated on top of the desk. I looked down at the glowing screen, smirking at the message preview.

From: Bestie Berkley - 5:13PM
Ditch Satan's son & come over. My mom made carne asada tacos!

To: Bestie Berkley - 5:14PM
Don't tempt me :(

I sighed, tossing my phone to the side, already feeling more guilty than before. Not only was I denying my tummy of the deliciousness of carne asada tacos a la Mama Ramos, but I was also denying my best friend the support she needed at this time.

Gathering my things, I headed downstairs to set up the Biology materials on the living room table. My mother, who was plopped on the couch, drinking another glass of wine, was deeply engrossed in some Filipino soap opera. I dropped my butt next to her, watching as the two leads on screen slowly fell in love.

"Miryenda?" Mom brandished a small plate of gooey brownies before me, to which I happily took a piece of.

(translation: snack)

Quickly glancing down at my phone to check the time, I noticed that it was nearly 5:30PM, which meant that the arrogant hockey player I had to tutor for the next hour or so, would soon be stepping into this household. Maybe I should've hid the knives in case I would be tempted to slice his head off.

But here's the thing: temptation wouldn't come that night. Like my mother, I too became severely riveted by the dramatics of The Filipino Channel. It wasn't until the end of the third episode when I realized that Ashton had yet to arrive.

To: Satan's Child - 6:32PM
Hey, you good?

I dropped my phone next to me, hoping Ashton would text back explaining why he was an hour late. So I sat there, my eyes glued to the television screen waiting for a response while I watched soap operas with my mom. But in the midst of love triangles, lost twin sisters, and the epic love teams that Filipino media milks till the very last drop, I found myself dosing off. Light snores, drool, and a half-eaten brownie still in my left hand, my body succumbed to fatigue.

Darkness and the soft flickering of the television screen engulfed me, and everything seemed normal. But when my bladder woke me up, that's when I realized something was clearly off. I rubbed my eyes in confusion, blinking a few times before seizing my glasses off of the coffee table and placing them back on my face.

Nucking futs!

Rapidly, I searched for my phone, digging my hands into the cushions and flinging the throw pillows off to the side. My heart hammered against my chest the moment my eyes landed on the Apple device glowing from the floor next to the couch. For a quick moment I thought I had let Ashton down, guilt surging throughout me. But upon picking up my cellphone, and only seeing a slew of texts from the hockey team, did the guilt slowly subside. I decided to call Ashton after that, holding the phone in between my ear and my shoulder as I hopped over the couch to hit the light switch.

"This is Ashton, you know what to do. If not, fuck you," his voicemail rang in my ears and I cringed from the profanity -- typical, Ash.

It was almost 9:30 in the evening and I was irritated. Where was Ashton? Weren't we supposed to have a study session tonight at 5:30PM? He practically begged me to tutor him; I turned down Berkley to help the hockey captain out, and as icing on the cake, my mom and I spent time cooking dinner for the jerkface. 

What the actual unicorn testicles was going on?

Nothing motivated me to check Twitter, but when the app's signature notification bell infiltrated my ears, did I decide to check. And when I did, my blood seethed with extreme annoyance. On my screen, was a photograph of Luke and Michael holding beers as they each sported a puppy-dog pout.

@MikeyPlayzHockey: Party = fucking lit. Where's @_KarebearRenee??? We miss her!

It wasn't the overly adorable photo of Luke and Michael that instigated the rage, it was the people in the background that made me shutter with ire. In the back corner of the picture, trademark unruly curls atop his head, was none other than Ashton. Caught candidly, the hockey captain stood near a beer pong setup at whatever party was going on that Friday night.

He ditched me and bailed out on a study session that he urged me to partake in. If he wanted to party, then by all means, go crazy. But Ashton could've been courteous enough to text me, so I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble and stress of having him over. I was getting real tired of his antics and only knew of one solution to get me over the anger prickling my skin.

Ice cream and scary movies.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off?" Mom yawned, hugging herself as the nighttime breeze flowed around her and the satin nightgown she was wearing.

"I'm sure mom," I assured with a smile, "you're too tired to drive, and Berkley's house is only a few miles away; the Uber will be fine."

"Text me when you get there, okay anak," mom gave me a peck on the cheek, "ingat!"

(translation: child or dear; be careful)

"Okay, see you tomorrow," I waved to my mom as I slid into the backseat of the Uber that sat idle against the curb.

I sat against the soft cushion, bobbing my head to the soft hum of the radio. I indulged my brain in happier, positive thoughts instead of wallowing in the annoyance that is Ashton Irwin. I thought about Berkley, the ice cream I knew she had in her freezer, as well as the carne asada tacos that were waiting for me in the Ramos kitchen. It shouldn't be my prerogative to be upset, because let's face it: it wasn't my grade on the line.

In less than ten minutes, the Uber pulled up to Berkley's home. Every window on the two-story house was glowing with a golden brilliance and from that factor alone, I knew that the entire Ramos clan was home, was awake, and was nourishing themselves in the simplicity of family synergy. Thanking my Uber driver, I stepped out of the vehicle and headed to the front door. Just as my finger grazed the doorbell, did the main barricade suddenly swoop open. Startled, I gasped slightly, before smiling brightly.

"Karebear!" Berkley grinned from ear to ear, standing before me in her pajamas. In the background I could hear Spanish words being thrown around, in addition to latin music blasting from the sound system.

"I smell tacos!" I bellowed in excitement, my olfactory nerves frolicking in the yumminess.

Berkley opened the door wider, and just as I was about to step inside, another soul walked out. I wasn't expecting that, and quickly shuffled backwards. In all her natural radiance, Natalia Luca walked out of the front door.

"Hi Karris," she smiled, pulling me into a hug that I did not expect before turning around to hug Berkley, "see ya Bee! You sure you don't want to go to the party?"

Bee?

"I'm sure! Karris and I are gonna watch scary movies all night," Berkley announced just as the two separated from their friendly hug.

I observed in confusion -- major confusion, because Natalia was the girl in the photo that upset Berkley the other day. Natalia gave us one last wave before skipping down the concrete pathway. She strolled towards her car, jumping into the driver's seat and out of earshot.

"What was Natalia doing here?" I asked, stepping into the Ramos home.

"She was just dropping off my Biology assignments," Berkley explained.

I was still confused, not because of Natalia's motives, but of my best friend's. Berkley read my face as easily as she could read the menu from our favorite Indian restaurant, and smiled.

"I'm not keeping my enemies close," Berkley declared, closing the front door.

I slipped off my shoes, "you aren't?"

"Natalia is to me, as Mollie is to you," Berkley justified simply, "I can't hate her. She's too nice, and means no harm."

Berkley was a feisty girl and there was no doubt about it. It was a worldwide fact that my best friend had a spunky soul. No one messed with Berkley unless you wanted a rearranged face and a new set of catheters. I wouldn't have blamed her for hating Natalia, but to see Berkley be the bigger woman, made me more proud to be her best friend.

"Luke is the enemy here, not Natalia," Berkley affirmed confidently, guiding me towards the kitchen.

"Hola Ramos family!" I shouted with a smile, waving at Berkley's mother, her aunties, and the several little children that surrounded the coffee table playing with Legos. Through the glass windows in the living room, I could make out all the men in the Ramos family, Berkley's dad included, outside on the back patio sharing stories and drinking cold beer.

The Ramos tribe greeted me in the same excited and welcoming manner, and suddenly any ounce of irk I had over Ashton disappeared -- especially when Berkley started to make me a big plate of food. The two of us left the downstairs area, food in our hand, and headed up to Berkley's room. Closing the door, I made myself at home on one of Berkley's beanbag chairs.

"Hold on," Berkley's attention snapped over to me, remote in hand, "before we watch the movie, you never explained to me why you're tutoring Ashton."

"Long story short," I dropped my taco back onto the plate, "Ash and I agreed that if I tutored him, he'd tell me anything I wanted to know about Gabe and Calum. Which makes me wonder..."

Berkley cocked her head to the side, "what?"

"Do you know anything about my brother and Calum?" I questioned, narrowing in my brows, "I don't know what I didn't think to ask you first -- you have been going to the same school as the both of them for the last three years."

"I'm not even sure to be honest," Berkley plopped down on her bed, setting the remote down next to her, "they always haven't been fond of each other; enemies since day one."

"Really? Why did I never know about this?" I wondered out loud.

"It honestly wasn't a big concern," Berkley shrugged, "because Gabe and Calum always ignored each other. They both did their own thing."

"Then why does Ashton want me to think that my brother and Calum were mortal enemies who could spark a war of the century?"

"Well, it did get kind of bad at one point,"

"What do you mean?"

"It was a few months before Junior year ended," Berkley revealed, looking off to the side as if trying to recollect the memories that were hidden deep inside a shoebox at the back of the closet.

"What happened?" I asked.

"They stopped ignoring each other, and things just started to explode. It was as if all the pent up hate they had for each other caused them to burst," Berkley explained, "but it was just pranks here and there; getting detention."

"Sounds like normal stuff to me," I commented, "you know my twin, he's the king of pranks. But he would never intentionally hurt anyone; he was always careful."

"I think Ashton is just exaggerating," Berkley deduced. "I think he's just embellishing things just to get you to tutor him."

"I wouldn't put it pass him to do whatever it takes to get what he wants," I rolled my eyes. "I'm ready to drop the subject when you are. I just wanna eat my tacos in peace and watch horror flicks."

And just like that, a night with my best friend inaugurated. We ate and screamed every five minutes as we indulged ourselves in a scary movie marathon. After terrorizing ourselves for several hours, we ended our night in the same way we always did: with the lights on, saying a prayer, and sleeping with the Rosary nearby. We both fell into deep slumber that Friday night, and what began as a crappy evening, morphed into a fun one.

My bladder woke me up the following morning. The soft rays of the morning sun saturated Berkley's bedroom with serenity. Groggily, I slid out of the comforts of Berkley's massive bed and rounded it to the room door. I stepped out into the hallway, sauntering through the morning chill and towards the bathroom.

Ding, dong.

I stopped in my tracks, looking over the railing of the stairs as I stood and observed. I waited for someone to go to the front door, but because it was still so early in the morning, I assumed everyone was asleep. I simply shrugged, continuing my endeavor to have the best morning pee ever... until the doorbell rang again.

What if it was an emergency?

With an exasperated sigh, I skipped down the stairs. My feet hit the cold wooden floors and cursed at myself for not taking Berkley's blanket with me. I headed for the front door, as another ring of the doorbell echoed through the quiet house. I tried to peek through the peephole, but the Autumn wreath that Berkley's mother handmade, was blockading my vision. So I unlocked the latches before grasping the silver knob. Twisting it, I opened the barricade wide, and gasped.

"Ashton!"

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I totally meant to finish and have this chapter up several days ago, but I feel asleep hahaha. Then it was Monday and I had school again. But I hope this was an enjoyable chapter. It's a little slow, but I promise the story will pick up more, because I have lots planned for this story! Thanks for all the comments and votes. Please continue to refer this story to all your friends because the more the readers, the merrier! All the love!! <3