The Contract Keeper's (PLAYBOOK #4)

BIANCA It is funny how I can trace almost every significant moment in my life to a single song. Before I knew what Adele albums were for, I regarded her as the woman who made me feel for the first time because despite being a born and raised Latino, accent and temper included, I really love me some white girl music. From Britney, Taylor Swift, Land del Rey to the band groups, the new kids the Sabrina Carpenter’s and Olivia Rodrigo’s to harmony queen Billie Eilish. I was 11 years young when I met Maria Gloria Hancock. Since she had the same name as many of my cousins, I started calling her Maria-Gloria just to keep up and it caught on. She was only 7 but Maroon 5’s She Will Be Loved was playing from my headphones. I was listening to a contraband playlist my mother made me, since she knew my shameless love for that type of music. But as a mafia descendant, you learn about danger young. All the old wives’ tales of darkness, pain and duty are like a nursery rhymes and no one, even the inactive are speared especially with the Hidalgo mafia. Blood is thicker than water, is our mantra but I learned the hard way that it didn’t necessarily exclude our own. I was the one who found my father with his mistress. The one who left hints till eventually my mama, Sanchez, caught on and the result was a shotgun against the mistress’s temple. “We have a child.” Laura begged as she clung to the sheets on her naked body. “A little girl, her name is Maria.” Ironically, High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco was playing from my room down the hall. My mother’s hand dropped and Laura never looked back as she ran half clothed out of the estate. It was then that I was sent to America to live with my cousin Chico and his family. This was so abuelo Rio could handle the fall out between my parents but moving away did not help because he guilt of wrecking their marriage consumed me. I was wrecker, it was obvious then, even though I was only a little girl. Madam Gina and her smugness rubbed me the wrong way but her after-school of languages was full of people like us. The offspring of crime families, all different ages, races and backgrounds. We were all from different walks of crime life and all cunning in our own way—just like mafia descendants should be. I was waiting for my driver and making paper art with my English notes when it flew down the curb and hit one of the popular girls on the back. I was humming Clarity by The Foxes when she turned around to show the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life. The was Odessa Dominaka of the Russian mob. I knew only two things about her. My cousin Chico always gazed at her because of her exotic beauty and she was just as bad at English pronunciation as me. Due to my accent, I couldn’t say her name but I knew she was failing on purpose because Chico mentioned she was an excellent student at her day school. To my surprise, Odessa (I still couldn’t say) turned around and picked up the paper bird. When she smiled, I understood why, despite us only being a few months in after school language why she was very popular. Yes, her family was like our presidential family but she looked like those rare dolls people collected. Porcelain milky and gloss like skin. Long curly ink dark hair and eyes so blue and magnetic, they looked like a fortune teller’s crystal ball. Unlike me, who had meat in her bones, she was skeletal and bony which only gave her face a sharp structure that was enviable. I waited to see if her beauty ended on the external but when a black escalade pulled next to her, she beamed like an anime character “thank you for the plane B” and gave me a naughty wink like we shared a secret. I knew then, we could be great friends so I smiled back and yelled, “it’s actually a bird” which only increased her enchanting smile. The next day, I walked straight to Odessa’s desk and put down a paper flower. “Please tell me you know a bit of Spanish?” I said in my mother tongue and she nodded to confirm she understood. “Good, my name is Bianca de Faría Hidalgo.” “Odessa Dominaka,” she extended her pale hand to show calloused finger tips. “I am a learning the violin and train 4hours a day,” she said in accented English. It eased me because her accent was thick as mine. “Cross bow, 3 hours a day.” I showed her my own callouses which made Odessa smile even more, that was how effortless our kinship bloomed. Since Madam Gina was a stuck up old bag and separated her classes by gender, I didn’t find out Odessa had a twin brother until 3weeks later when we were copying off his homework sheet. “Christ Felix!” Even though we were spending time together, I still wasn’t used to her thick Russian accent. The boy who had just snatched the paper, frowned down at her and said something in Russian before staring at me to glare. If his sister was flawless, Felix Dominaka was the male version and then some. He looked fancy and proper in his private school uniform but unlike his sister, his outstanding detail wasn’t his blue eyes but his perfect shaped lips. He was not only just as magnificent, no. Felix Dominaka was just as pale as Odie, but the pink paleness of his lips was something extraordinary especial over his creamy skin. Faint cherry was the specific color and I learned later after searching it on the web. Nonetheless, no song played as I stood up from the curb and helped Odessa to her feet. I watched them argue in Russian and no word that was similar to my brain came out of either mouth so I hated how I did not understand. “What are you staring at?” Felix snapped at me in less accented English. Before I could open my mouth to respond, Odessa shoved him and said some words that made her lips curl like she was cursing him out. That was the only time I ever saw them fight both verbally and nearly physically. It was clear the Dominaka twins were living up to their prestigious reputation of being perfect. But we were only 11, I had never had a crush before. I listened to the Only Exception by Paramore all night after that but I never saw Felix Dominaka the same. Watch is all I did. For the following 2years we attended Madam Gina’s tuition school of languages, I lingered around Odessa just to catch a glimpse of her twin brother. The obsession did not subside like I had hoped but only grew legs and multiplied in size and different fonts as we grew up. I realized after 13year old that I couldn’t be a watcher. It was obvious then, even though we were young.