Chapter 11:

Flashback: First Blood

Next to a hot bath and warm milk, a Post-it stalker note was a distant third when it came to soothing my over-wired nerves. And if ever there was a night I needed something extra to take the edge off, it was this one.

Something more than strong hands.
Something hotter than a shower.

I exhaled slowly, letting the sweetness and herbs settle on my tongue…

Four Years Earlier

Coronado Prep

I I typed “98” into my phone and hit send, quickly slipping it back into my pocket before the teacher noticed. Like most of our high school teachers, he had a strict policy about confiscating any devices in sight during class. I tapped my foot nervously against the chair leg while staring at my laptop screen. 

Relax, Prin! You just scored 98% on the exam, and you’re stressing about not getting a perfect score.

In the distance, La Pequeña Puerta del Sol, the Coronado Prep clock tower, chimed. I gathered my laptop, notebook, and yellow and green highlighters, tucking them into my bag. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor echoed through the room as students rushed to escape the windowless classroom, eager to soak up some vitamin D.

Facing the crowd, the professor called out, “Remember, the final exam is in two weeks. I expect everyone to do better this time. Office hours are Fridays at two for anyone with questions.” His words fell on deaf ears; most of the class had already tuned out, their attention spans on par with a cocker spaniel.

I squinted as I stepped into the sunlight, feeling like a nocturnal creature emerging from the dark depths of the Chemistry lecture room.

Ping. My phone buzzed with a new text. I glanced around for Parker. I had saved him a seat in class, but, as usual, he had come in fashionably late and taken a spot at the back. Take the Parker Chill Pill, Prin. He often sat back there, lounging with his Ray-Bans on, legs propped up, his carved musculature hidden among the overachieving students with their perfect posture. 

A familiar voice slid in from behind me.
“So, who’s the heavyweight champ this week?”

I turned, and there he was—Parker, sunlight catching in his eyes until they practically glittered. His gaze locked with mine, heavy, unflinching.

My breath hitched. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if it was the sun blazing overhead… or him.

It was time for our post-exam tradition.

We both pulled out our phones, opening each other’s messages at the same time. His text read, “96.”

“There it is. De Sangue wins again by two points,” he announced into a rolled-up piece of paper, like it was a mic. Then he stepped closer, close enough to whisper—close enough to make every inch of me tremble.

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “You know what that means. My Bloody Valentine it is.” My body betrayed me with a shiver. Did he notice? The way his breath, his nearness, set every nerve in my body sparking like live wire.  

Oh my God, I feel it in the air…wires above are sizzlin' like a snare. A Lana Del Ray song charging the air around us.

I gave him a fake look of disappointment, one of the three facial expressions I’d perfected for Parker: bored disinterest, pretend disappointment, and controlled amusement. These well-rehearsed looks were my armor, masking my overly eager feelings for him. Parker, I don’t spend my time thinking about you. I’m too busy... but do you think I’m cool? AJR’s lyrics echoed in my head. 

They always nailed it.

After every exam, Parker and I had a movie night, and whoever scored lower got to pick the movie. For the last five movies, he had been the one choosing. I had considered intentionally dropping my score, but the Coronado Prep scholarship committee watching over my shoulder wouldn’t approve.

“You’re on a roll, Prin,” Parker teased. “We’ve already watched Bloodsport, Blood Diamond, There Will Be Blood, and Rambo: First Blood. This next one’s gonna be a horror movie. I can think of at least ten.” His playful grin grew wider.

I shifted my pretend disappointment into a practiced smirk.
“Maybe I’ll lose the next round and finally get to choose the movie,” I said, though we both knew I never did.

I hated horror films—they always left me with nightmares—but a bet was a bet. And somehow, Parker’s off-the-cuff commentary made even the goriest scenes bearable. He could always make me laugh, melting the fear right out of me, warming me from the inside out.

And honestly? Every moment with him was worth it.

“At the rate you’re going, it’s not gonna happen, One-Percenter,” he joked as we strolled across campus, referring to my academic ranking.

I rolled my eyes but smiled back. “Stop calling me that, Parker. You’re a One-Percenter too—in academics and on that Coronado dating app.”

He smirked and casually slung his arm around my shoulder. “Closer to one-and-a-half percent, but who’s counting? And speaking of the movie, it’s almost Valentine’s Day, so My Bloody Valentine is the perfect pick.”

He was relentless with his blood-themed movie choices ever since he’d found out that “Princesa De Sangue” meant “Princess of Blood.” 

It had become his own personal film festival—an ode to me. My family name meant "of blood," fitting for a line of nursing aides, phlebotomists, and medical assistants–but no doctors. Every part of me felt responsible for my mother’s failed attempt. I was determined to be the first physician in the family. 

Forget fairy tales; this was my grandmother’s favorite bedtime story.

“I’ll bring a thick blanket,” I said, already preparing to hide my eyes through half the movie.

“It’s funny how you can’t stand blood in horror movies, yet you’re going to be a doctor,” he said, his voice low, teasing, but his eyes were anything but playful. “What’s gonna happen when we’re lab partners at Harvard?” 

His gaze lingered like a touch—too much, too long. My pulse tripped over itself, and I looked away before he could read the thought pounding in my chest.

That I wanted him to never stop.
To keep watching me.
To peel me open, slow and steady, until there was nothing left but the terrifying, impossible hope that I might be the only one in the world for him.

I shot him a look. “Blood in hospitals is different from blood in horror movies.”

Parker chuckled, looking me in the eye. “That makes no sense, Prin.”

I laughed out loud, forgetting to maintain my usual mask of controlled amusement. “Maybe I’ll have a compassionate lab TA. I’ll bribe him with my chocolates.”

“Your chocolates are to die for. Perfect for sinking my teeth into during all the death scenes,” he said as Zara approached, her face glowing in the sunlight.

How did Zara manage to look as stunning in a T-shirt and cut-offs as she did in a sequined mini-dress at a gala? Zara’s perfectly manicured smile probably cost more than most people earn in a month.

Zara and I had been randomly paired as roommates freshman year of high school—an attempt by the Universe to restore balance. Her laissez-faire lifestyle was the perfect counter to my rigid, scholarship-bound life. We bonded over dining hall pizza and lemonade, comparing our vastly different upbringings, and grew close enough that she convinced me to room with her during the past three years.

Linking my arm through hers, I grinned. “Hey, girl! I almost forgot about our lunch date. Studying for this exam wiped my memory.”

“How could you forget SFL day? You two study way too much,” Zara said, looking between Parker and me.  

Parker looked puzzled. “SFL?”

Zara grinned. “Smoothie for Lunch Day! It’s Prin’s and my tradition. Come join us!”

“As tempting as it sounds to survive on a 200-calorie carb load, I’ve got something else to run to,” Parker said, waving. “Prin, don’t forget to bring chocolates tonight. Eight p.m. at my dorm.” He tossed it out casually, but the way his eyes caught mine made it sound like a promise, like the atmosphere was burning itself at the edges.

As he walked away, Zara’s eyes twinkled. “Ohhh, Prin, you’ve got a date with Parker tonight! Finally!”

I let out a long sigh. “It’s not a date, Zara. It’s just our usual post-exam movie night.”

Zara gave me a knowing look. “Just the two of you, in his room? According to anyone’s definition, that’s definitely a date. Unless he’s not into girls…”

I shrugged. “He’s dated almost every girl but me, so I don’t think that’s the issue. Not everyone’s a boy magnet like you, Zara.”

“Prin, you’re gorgeous! You just don’t see it. But don’t worry, you’ve got your adoring best friend to remind you. It’s going to happen with you and Parker—I can feel it in my lucky charm necklace.” She touched the delicate studded beads around her neck, a necklace that probably cost more than my entire year of tuition.

Like Zara, most of the girls at Coronado Prep hid their wealth in plain sight, securing Target headbands to Balenciagas as they strolled back from Pilates, sweat glistening from their brows. 

I smiled, shaking my head. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Would it always be this way? Penniless Princesa invisible amongst my well-to-do peers that encircled me? A crappy paradox?

Or… someday… would the person I couldn’t imagine living without finally notice me?

***

Don’t worry, Prin.

Something tells me things are about to get a whole lot spicier for you.

XOXO, Sabina