CHAPTER 29

You give me dewdrops, you give me sunshine, you give me rain

The love I feel for you is so strong, I think I'm going insane

I say I don't like my thick thighs and big butt,

You say real men appreciate meat and bones are for dogs

I say I don't like my stretch marks

You say don't insult God's creativity

I say I think you're lying

But you kiss me and tell me to be quiet

You're my dewdrops, you're my sunshine and you're my rain

Drowned in your love is where I pray to remain

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I look into your eyes and the whole world is dancing in tune

I kiss your lips and immediately I get the reassurance we'll make it through

I feel your arms around me and I know I've finally found my Angel.

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I love you

Even though I don't know how to

I do promise to show you my true colours

Be warned, they may come out black and blue

That means I may hurt you

But please understand I'm doing something I've never been taught

And I know you'd never give your car key to

a kid

Without a driving permit

but I'm asking you to give me another chance

It'll be worth the risk

Let me drive you crazy.

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Huffing out of frustration, I flipped over to a new fresh page in my notebook, not satisfied with the last poem I wrote.

As if I, Luciana Esther Carter, was writing love poems, like honestly, I must have lost my damn mind in the sixteenth century because only people of those days wrote sappy, cheese-filled poems to their lovers.

Lovers- that title weighed heavy on me, I mean at eighteen what exactly did I know about love, loving and having a lover? I was barely loving myself even though I was trying - trying being the operative word. I didn't know anything about relationships except what my middle school teacher once said that when a boy and a girl like one another they want to do stuff to and for each other.

Prove it to me.

Gritting my teeth in annoyance at those damned four words that had been the cause of my torture for the past month, I looked like a mad black woman as I repetitively stabbed at the A4 lined paper, successfully puncturing holes, wishing it was Buttbag's face.

He was playing hard to get, it was so unfair. I couldn't even get an innocent peck on the cheek, last time he'd kissed me was at his place which had been a month ago. He refused to touch me in any and every sense of the word - holding hands was strictly forbidden.

To top it all off, at my graduation the week before he came along with my parents looking all hot, getting me all bothered; wearing a pair of cuffed chinos and white polo shirt that contrasted beautifully with his sun-bronzed skin. My name had been called out three times before I was tapped on the shoulder to go get my certificate from a not-so-amused Mr. Darley.

On my way to the podium I tripped on the stairs - no surprise there. I blamed my mother; if she hadn't forced me into wearing those damned heels, when I was perfectly comfortable in my converse, I predict it wouldn't have happened, but then again knowing my luck it probably would have. After the graduation ceremony, I went straight to my parents and my dad asked if I was going to say bye to my friends and all I did was give him a look that gave a clear answer, I didn't know if he was taking the piss or not.

So this was the part that really exhausted my pipes; I stood like five freaking inches away from Angelo, expecting him to like, I don't know, maybe congratulate me in an 'affectionate' way, but all he did was pat me twice on the shoulder. Wasn't that just jolly good? I was so angry, I nearly prayed that the forces of heaven descended on him and struck him down.

So for the past week I scribbled nonsense, trying to "express" what I felt hoping it would be proof enough for him. I never was much of a writer or a romantic- not that I had any reason to be romantic, but I thought that words had a way of being immortal in a way that other things couldn't. And on the off chance that he had memory loss he could always read the words that had stayed the same from the first time I wrote them down. When I first asked him how I could prove it to him, his smart reply was, "The balls in your court and if you play it right, you might just have my balls in your court."

The only contact that I was afforded with him for the past month was texting and the odd calls because he was taking his finals, so we didn't see each other except for my graduation, but with each passing day the content of the messages turned something intense. And yes there were boundaries but it had been hard to not act the Jezebel and tempt him to cross them.

I tore a page of stanzas and out of frustration I scrunched it up and threw it in a random direction that landed near my bedroom door. Just then, my phone started vibrating, reaching for it by my bedside table I saw it was Angelo calling me. My heart throbbed excitedly and I tried not to let my excitement show in my voice.

"What's going on?"

"Is that any way to greet your future husband and father of your children?"

Him saying that did something crazy to me, I didn't even want to say. Not wanting to think too deeply at what he may be insinuating, I laughed it off.

"Okay, what can I do for you Angelo?"

"Hm, slightly better," chuckling he continued, "but how do you know it's not me that wants to do you?"

"Do you always have to be this dirty?"

"Only with you, mi pequeño querido."

That had been the second time he'd called me that, the last time being the first time he'd dropped me off at my house, but too soaked up in the loveliness of his voice I once again didn't ask for a translation.

"I need you."

My breathing at that point sounded laboured, my heart was beating something fierce, the shit sizzling between us was both intense and intimate and in fear of losing the moment, my voice was reduced to a whisper. "What d'you need me for, Angelo?"

"I need you...to help me paint my brother's room."

I could have just murdered him.

As soon as he said that, that Butt of a bag started sniggering loudly into my ears, obviously aware of my embarrassment.

"I can't," I said ignoring his silly, boyish giggles.

That effectively stopped the laughter. "And why not?"

I could have lied and said because I was volunteering at the kindergarten and that would have been a totally believable excuse, but for some reason I didn't. "Because I don't want to?"

"What about if I want you to?"

"Well then I guess we have a problem."

"I guess so too," he agreed but not even a second later he came back with a defence, "your brother was the one that told Robinho that his room looked like green shit."

"Bobby wouldn't use the word 'shit'," I stated but secretly worried that my brother was picking up some bad language at school.

"No, he didn't exactly use that term but that's what he meant. Now my brother says he wants me to repaint his room white."

"Robinho shouldn't listen to my brother, if he likes the colour of his room he should ignore him. And besides that your brother lives in Spain, doesn't he just come and see you on holidays?"

Chuckling, he replied, "True, but I want my brother to feel at home when he's in the States. He doesn't like it much here, it's the least I can do."

It touched me knowing big ol' buttbag was considerate enough to re-paint his room in order to suit the preferences of a brother who probably only visited him three or four times a year but I still wasn't budging.

"Well are you gonna come and help me?" He pushed.

"N-"

"Don't you realise I'm using this as an excuse for me to see you?"

He's forwardness and the sincerity in his forwardness only made it harder for me to resist. His voice too was seriously blurring my judgement and as if I was under the hypnotism of black magic I heard myself ask what time he needed me to come.

Snorting loudly, the smart-ass answered, "I'll be ready for you to come anytime, baby."

"Well someone is feeling very mature today, aren't they?" I responded, rolling my eyes.

"After hearing your voice...believe me, he is very mature, if you know what I mean," I just about caught him laughing out loud at his stupidity before I cut the line off certainly having enough of his dirtiness corrupting my innocent mind.

Half a minute later, my phone buzzed once again, but this time alerting me of a text message, from none other than him.

From: Buttbag

I'll pick you up in an hour's time.

Not even a millisecond after reading the text message, the door to my room flung open and I had to quickly shove my notebook underneath my butt, so no one had an idea of what I was getting up to. The intruder turned out to be Bobby, and I flung him a not-so-happy scowl at not having knocked, which he swiftly ignored. Yelling loudly, with clear excitement eating him up, he announced, "Lucy, mummy just spoke with Sara and she said that her and Rob are coming in two days time to spend their whole summer vacation here!"

Narrowing my eyes at my brother, remembering what Buttbag had informed me, I asked, "Did you tell Robinho that you don't like the colour of his room because it looks like green poo?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied with an easy yes.

"That's not cool, Bob. Now that means you have to come with me to Angelo's place so we can repaint his room, since you have so much to say about it."

After a series of groans and moans and a few failed attempts of excuses, he complied.

It served him right for having such a big mouth.

"What's this?" I heard him ask just as he was about to head out of the room.

Looking up, my eyes popped out when I realised he was unfolding the piece of paper with my poetic attempts on it. Fleeing quickly from my bed, I aimed to grab the paper, but my brother turning it into a game quickly swerved to the right, which made me lose my balance and topple on my bedroom floor.

"Bobby, give it to me right now!"

"I love you-"

"What's going on here? Luciana? Bobby?"

My mother with her dishevelled locks falling on the sides of her face, and her dark cocoa coloured eyes looking at us quizzically, stood waiting for an answer from either of us.

"Nothing," we both responded.

"Hmm," she hummed clearly not believing us, but deciding not to question any

further, turning her gaze at Bobby she said, "Bobby your dad's taking you to the barber's so go get changed."

"Okay mummy," he replied with a deceivingly innocent smile on his face.

My mother had turned her back on him to face me and I was kicking myself mentally for not having better control of my frustrations as my brother escaped but not before flinging his tongue out at me whilst holding the crumpled paper that I was sure was going to cause me some major humiliation later.

"Your room stinks like egg farts Luciana, do you ever open your window?"

My ever-blunt mother scrunched up her nose at me as if the smell was going to suffocate her. I seriously did not know what she was talking about because my room smelt fine and I hated opening my bedroom window especially in the heat of the summer when bees and wasps were everywhere ready to invade and scare the bum fluffs out of me.

"Mum my room smells fine," I replied rolling my eyes at her typical dramatics.

"Oh so you think Angelo would hold the same opinion as you if he were here?"

The thought of Angelo seeing me in my morning mess, me not having had my bath, brushed my teeth, hair all over the place, and the possibility of entering my room to smell my 'egg farts' had me cringing hard. Then again, Angelo had already seen me looking my worst, back when he came to my house with those police officers. It all seemed like such a long time ago as so much had happened since then.

"Why would he even be in my bedroom in the first place?" I asked whilst pretending to be immersed in the job of making my bed, so she didn't see the grin on my face.

"Pshtt, child don't think your mum's a fool, I know you trying to cover up a smile thinking about that boy," she said in an all too-familiar Maya-Carter-all-knowing tone.

"No I'm not!"

"Hmm hm, if you say so. Anyway I came to tell you that Sara and Robinho are coming from Spain in two days and this time Sara's husband is coming too. Eduardo is hosting a barbecue and we're going."

"Oh okay", I responded not that I really had a choice even if I didn't want to go.

Judging from my mother's face, I could tell that she was definitely one excited bunny at having her friend back. Honestly, I was still surprised at how quick my mum had been able to bond so well with Sara in a short period of time, especially when prior to Sara, Maya Carter wasn't the type to get all buddy-buddy with anyone.

"Mum, I'm going over to Angelo's house he wants me to help him paint this brother's

room," I rushed out just as she was walking out of my room.

"Hmm hm, just be careful 'painting his brother's room'."

"Mum, I can't believe what you're trying to insinuate!"

I could bet my stars that if my complexion was lighter my face would be sporting red like it was in vogue.

"Well what exactly am I trying to insinuate darling?"

I think I preferred her when she wasn't sarcastic.

"You know what you're insinuating mum."

"Well you must have been thinking it, sweetie."

"No I wasn't."

"All I'm saying is you should be careful painting his brother's room. We don't want any accidents, do we?"

Shaking my head, as my mum left my room laughing to herself, I tried to clear my mind off of what 'painting his brother's room' could mean. Going over to my wardrobe I picked out what I would be wearing out and I settled for a bright yellow maxi dress and white sandals. Probably wasn't the wisest choice considering I was going to be painting but I figured Angelo would have something for me to cover up in and if he didn't, there was always something called 'washing machine'.

Forty five minutes later I went downstairs figuring I could do with something to eat before Angelo arrived. I think my mother was having a lazy day as she was still dressed in her pyjamas, lying down on the sofa with the fan on cooling her from the heatwave whilst she watched some reality series. When she glanced up at me her eyes had widened.

"Yeah I can really tell you're going to paint his brother's room with what you're wearing."

Before I could reply, the house bell rang, taking a deep breath I checked through the peep-hole and sure enough it was Angelo. I opened the door and after taking a little more time than I should to approvingly assess the specimen I finally met his own studious gaze. Everything was happening all at the same time; my heart clenched, my breathing seized, my palms got sweaty making the grasp I had on the doorknob loose, my legs had lost the will to stand and if not for my mother's voice yelling to know who the hell was standing at her front door, I'm sure I would have collapsed.

"It's Angelo!"

With great self-control did I fight against the strong urge to lick him like a bitch when he walked past; he was like a cake placed in front of those display windows in bakery shops or even better, a stripper.

Yes, I had lost it by then. Completely and utterly lost it.

In a bid to calm my hyperactive nerves which were threatening to make a fool out of me, I breathed in the hot, humid air before shutting the door close.

Back to the living room my mum had fully sat up, her attention not more on the TV but in the man, and damn was he all man, present in her house. Looking at my mum, she had that mischievous twinkle on full mode in her eyes and I grew anxious at wanting to know what she had up her sleeves.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carter."

"Afternoon to you too Angelo," greeted back my mother,"my daughter tells me she's going to help you paint your brother's room?"

"Mum I already told you all we're doing is exactly that."

"Is your name Angelo?" my mum snapped back at me before turning her gaze back to Angelo who was holding back a laugh.

He answered her whilst I folded my arms together trying (failing) to act not bothered at my mum embarrassing me in front of him.

"Hmm okay," although she certainly did not appear to believe that all we were doing was painting his brother's room, she didn't say anything further.

Not wanting to take the risk of lingering in the house longer than I should, I told Angelo I was ready to go and I headed towards the door feeling his presence behind me. As I was about to close the door I heard my mum holler, "Have fun!"

The heat outside was unbearable, already I could feel the hot stickiness on my back as I

settled down inside Angelo's car, being even more close to him in a confined space only intensified the heat.

"Just so you know," I heard him start in a husky whisper he's cool breath fanning my cheek as he turned in his seat to face me, "you look beautiful."

I needed an inhaler - a defibrillator would have been better. For several moments I lost the ability to breathe. With the tiny amount of rational thinking I had left in me, I was able to break myself free from getting my heart completely fried. Trying to play

it cool, which at that moment I was anything but cool, I said, "I know you're trying to charm me into helping you paint your brother's room, but there's no need I've already agreed to help."

"Don't even try that shit with me," the irritated tone present in his voice had me looking up in his hard gaze to see them equally irritated, "I said that because I wanted to. Don't ever try and play down my compliments, understood?"

Nodding my head wordlessly, I looked out the window whilst he turned on the air conditioner (not that it really helped), got the car into gear and drove to his house silently.

As I mindlessly people-watched, I breathed a sigh of relief at having completed high school and never by choice having to be around those miserable shit heads that had nothing better to do than to make my time there horrible.

Honestly, I could say that I had progressed, and when I said progress I meant I could look at my reflection two out of five times and not want to break the mirror. I was still on this long journey and it definitely wasn't easy, but I was becoming more introspective by getting out more and cultivating a deeper relationship with God. It's just that hearing the word 'beautiful' associated with me was still taking its time to get used to.

It wasn't until we got to his house that Angelo broke the silence that had held us since the drive over from my house. "D'you want an ice lolly?"

"Yes please," I said giggling at the thought of a twenty one year old guy like him still into ice lollies.

"What's so funny?"

"I dunno, it's just weird, ice lollies are more for kids, so I wouldn't have thought a grown man like you would still be into that," I replied nonchalantly shrugging my shoulders.

"Oh , I'm into a lot of things you're yet to know about," he replied in typical Angelo style and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Kissing my teeth, I watched as he opened the door to his refrigerator before closing it and putting a box containing the lollies on the kitchen surface.

"Take your pick woman."

I picked up the box and dipped my hand in to get a strawberry flavoured lolly before passing the box over to Angelo. Grabbing a scissors from the knife rack I cut the wrapper open before plunging it into my mouth and my oh my did it taste and feel so good. Yes it was simply strawberry flavoured ice cut into a cute shape, but against the volcanic heat of the outside, it did wonders to my body and I couldn't help but close my eyes and moan in pure ecstasy.

"Hmm I needed this, thank you," I said to Angelo who only stared at me with a strange look in his eye.

After finishing eating the ice lolly, Angelo wasted no time trying to order me around, which I wasted no time reminding him, I was no longer his maid and he should be on his knees begging me not bossing me around to do what he wants. He looked at me with a slow grin expanding on his pink lips, and said that there would only be two reasons why he would be on his knees for me, I asked him what the reasons were and he just snorted before randomly stating I was cute, that undoubtedly left me all the more confused.

It figured out that there really was Robinho's room to be painted; he had already single-handedly removed all the furniture and covered the carpet, so that paint wouldn't get on it. Unopened tin buckets filled with paint were placed around the room, Angelo handed me a brush and for the next six hours straight we painted his brother's room.

As tedious as the job of painting a room was, somehow doing it with Angelo was fun. Shit was just right with him, there was no point arguing against it and it was probably the first time I admitted it to myself.

"Oh my gosh Angelo, look what you've done to me!" I yelled having now fully seen his handiwork as I looked in the mirror in his bathroom. The amount of times he'd 'accidentally' got paint on me was ridiculous.

"Please, look what you did to me."

"You started it," I argued, holding in a snigger at seeing his naked chest coated in paint.

"Fine, you can use my shower and I can get your dress dry-cleaned for you," he said whilst trying to wipe some of the paint off his chest.

"No it's fine, the dress is all messed up now I'm just going to throw it away when I get home. I bought it on sale so it's not a great loss."

"I want to see you in it again."

Holding his stare for a moment, I replied okay before looking away. It went quiet between us as we put the finishing touches to the room. Even though I liked it and except for the increase of blood flow to certain areas in my body, I never did know how to react when he was so straight up with me.

He'd made it a point not to let his touches linger and I could only commend his self-control whereas in my head I was thinking about getting home to give him one of the poems as soon as possible. Yes, I know, I needed deliverance.

Half an hour later, we were finally done and I lay on the plastic covered carpet tired out from the day's labour, I was past caring if Angelo thought I looked like a slob. The window in Robinho's room was open and the sun on my back just felt so good, well until I didn't feel it anymore.

Twisting my neck round, I saw an unamused Angelo towering above me and because of where he stood it looked like there was a halo surrounding his head- I nearly laughed out loud from the idea of him being an angel. I couldn't lie though, he looked good.

"D'you want pizza?"

"Yes, pizza sounds good," I said wanting anything but pizza at that moment despite me not having had anything to eat but the ice lolly.

"What d'you want on it?"

"As long as the pizza doesn't have pineapples, I'm cool with anything."

"Okay, I'm gonna place an order but I'm going to drive over and pick it up myself. Feel free to use my bathroom, I'll put on my bed something you can change into. I should be back in half an hour."

Not even giving me a backward glance, he exited his bathroom leaving me on my own. Weird. Shrugging of his change of behaviour, passing it as some male-PMS thing I got up and went into the en-suite bathroom in his room, stripping off my dress before entering his shower.

Losing track of time but feeling refreshed I stepped out the shower booth and dried myself with a clean towel. With the towel wrapped around me safely I walked out of the bathroom, back into Angelo's room and smiled at the comic shirt he picked out for me along with some black joggers.

Thinking he'd have been back already, I called out his name but I got no response. His wardrobe drawers weren't closed so I walked over to close them for him. Just as I was about to close the last one, something struck my attention that had my eyes popping out, just like it did the first time I saw it.

The sexy maid costume.

For some reason that only God knows, a compelling force gravitated my hands towards the attire and before I knew what I was doing I was pulling it out the draw and holding it up in front of me.

I don't know what made me do it but before I was aware what I was doing, I had managed to do the unbelievable, reasoning with myself that Angelo was out and he'd never have to find out if I just quickly put it on and took it off as soon as I saw how it looked on me.

For a full moment I gazed at myself in the mirror that fronted Angelo's wardrobe doors, completely surprised with myself. The lingerie fitted my body, in a way I'd never actually thought I would appreciate, it was the first time I fully came to realise how womanned up I was.

Getting excited by my new free-me, I started swaying my hips to an imaginary beat whilst looking at my reflection.

"My, my, I look mighty fine today" I started in a ridiculous British accent as I kept on doing different poses, " I quite fancy myself a strapping young fellow from over the Atlantic, in the land of Picasso. His name might come as a particular surprise to you, since he acts anything but like his name suggests, but his name is in fact Angelo."

"Luciana..."

I thought I was going to jump through the roof as a loud scream evaded my mouth at the unexpected voice. My heart's rate spiralling out of control, my eyes widened in shock as I slowly faced the very hungry look in Angelo's dark intense eyes.