Not Anything by Carmen Rodrigues Read Free Book Online

pee,” I tell Marisol, trying to pull the door open.
    “Don’t you think that monster looks suspicious? And if you recognize his voice, maybe he’s one of the jerks from school.”
    I look at the monster through the peephole. He really does look suspicious, but, then again, what monster doesn’t? And why do I recognize his voice? I peek out for a second look. Lucy is no longer bouncing frantically, she’s crying.
    “She’s crying,” I tell Marisol. “I really think we should let her use the bathroom.”
    “Man…” Marisol shifts indecisively. “Okay.”
    We open the door. The monster is crouched down next to Lucy, his mask pulled up.
    “Isn’t that Danny Diaz?” Marisol asks, turning her head sideways.
    And it is. It’s Danny Diaz, standing in Marisol’s doorway in a puddle of pee.
    “Wow. Weird,” Marisol says.
    “Yeah,” I say, because what else can I say? What are the chances of this ever happening to anyone else but me? “Weird.”
     
    “i really am sorry,” danny says apologetically. “that was completely gross.”
    It’s true, something as small as fifteen minutes can really make a difference in your life. Just look at me now. Here I am sitting in Marisol’s living room with Danny Diaz staring at me and Marisol kissing a five-year-old’s butt in the kitchen. And all of that happened in just fifteen minutes.
    And two weeks ago, I was sitting in my living room across from Danny Diaz, having the most intimate conversation of my entire life—and that experience really only lasted like fifteen minutes, too.
    And every Wednesday at three thirty, I sit across a library desk and stare at Danny Diaz for an hour. And every fifteen minutes, I can’t help thinking, What if…?
    It’s just a weird coincidence, is all I’m saying.
    Sprinkles of laughter tumble out of the kitchen, where Marisol and Lucy are playfully fighting over the exact location to wedge a Snickers bar in the enormous ice cream sundae that they’ve concocted. Guilt always turns Marisol into the ideal host.
    “My aunt should be here soon.” Danny looks at his watch. His gaze wanders over his shoulder, toward the kitchen. “You think they’re okay—alone and stuff?” He looks nervous. I’m pretty sure he’s wondering what other accidents Lucy’s planning on having tonight.
    “Don’t worry,” I reassure Danny, “Marisol’s got her covered. Thank God her old ballet clothes fit Lucy. I can’t believe how loud she can scream.”
    “Yeah, she can be real loud sometimes. It’s a Latin thing,” he says with a wink.
    “Don’t let Marisol hear you say that,” I tell him. “She’s totally against the idea that Hispanics are loud.”
    “What is she? Cuban American?” he asks.
    “Two hundred percent,” I tell him.
    “Me, too. How about you?” he asks me.
    “With a last name like Shannon? Puh-leeze. ” I give him a look. “I’m a combo—half Irish from my dad’s side, half Puerto Rican from my mom’s side.”
    “That’s weird,” he says. “Shannon, huh? Your dad is pale like Casper.”
    “No, he’s not.” I toss a throw pillow at him in protest.
    “Yeah, he is.” Danny grabs the pillow and tosses it back. I duck so that it doesn’t hit me. “But”—he leans forward and takes in the features on my face—“you have a little bit of color. You must look more like your—”
    “So, do you watch Lucy a lot?” I change the subject quickly.
    “Sometimes.” Danny gives me an odd look. He glances toward the kitchen. Lucy’s is asking Marisol a thousand and one questions about our costumes and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland . “Lucy’s father left when she was like two, and my Aunt Ana likes for her to have some, you know, male role models around.” He shrugs his shoulders like he’s embarrassed.
    “That’s real sweet of you,” I say.
    Danny tilts his head to the side, and the light rests fully on his face. I notice that he’s shaved. His curly hair is barely wavy, flattened by the weight