Michael Torrez

Chapter 2






I stand in my driveway with grocery bags hanging from both of my hands and my feet feel glued to the ground. I watch as the new girl next door silently watches the moving workers lift and carry several pieces of furnisher up her driveway. She sits with her back rigid straight and with her short hair in two small braids that just barely rest on her shoulders. From what I can see, she is beautiful. Her olive skin sparkles in the summer sunlight and her black hair appears strong against her light features. Her dark eyes appear to be hidden in shadows and her full mouth is emotionlessly pasted on her face.

“Michael, vamos!” I hear my mom yell from inside the house. I pry my eyes from the new girl and walk inside. My family is from Argentina and Spanish is a major language in the household, though I am barely fluent. I drop the bags onto the counter just as Jesse, my best friend and neighbor, walks in through the open door.

“Hey Mrs. Torrez,” he politely says, always incorrectly pronouncing the double r part. “Yo, Mike.”

“Hey Jesse, what’s up?” I reply and do our handshake. We have been friends since we were born and our families are basically related, except for the whole him being from England and I from Argentina. He’s a football player at our high school and this is his fourth year playing, which makes us a very popular duo. “Help me with this man.”

Wiping his blond hair away from his eyes, Jesse picks up two cans of tomato sauce from one of the bags. “So, what’s with the new hot girl?”

I take the bags of milk from the counter and put them into the fridge before replying. “I have no idea, she’s just moving in today.”

“So then, is Ms. Jacob gone then?” With a couple of apples in his hands he starts to juggle. “She was kind of hot; in a cougar sort of way.”

“Nah, I think they’re related.” I say, ignoring his clowning around. “Listen man, if my mom comes in and asks, I was with you last night.”


He immediately stops juggling and coyly stares at me. “Sammy?”


I nod and playfully punch him on the arm. “Remember, we were at the diner till ten last night, okay?”

He gives me a thumbs-up and lets me know that he has my back when my mother walks in, perfect timing. “Michael,” she says with her intense English accent. “Pamela’s daughter just moved in with her today. Pam wouldn’t say why, but she is having a hard time so maybe you can make her feel at home.”

“So that’s who she is,” I say in response and quickly add before following Jesse out the door, “What’s her name?”

“Jenna I think,” My mom stares up in thought before answering me confidently. “Jenna Louise.”

The End

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