Page 16 of From Drummer to Gamer

The apartment was modest, with warm yellow wallpaper, bright lights, and wooden flooring. The TV ran in the background, in front of which were two brown couches in parallel lines facing each other.

“Raphael, you pig. Did you steal my soda?” shouted a honey-toned voice that made me look up.

A girl approached us, her eyes trained on the huge bag of Cheetos that her delicate fingers were digging inside. She was swallowed in a huge purple hoodie with a few questionable orange spots and pixel monster boy shorts that showed off her toned, thick legs.

I shouldn’t be staring, yet I couldn’t stop for some reason.

Soft glowing skin and pine-colored hair, held by a pencil, in a huge knot on top of her head. I had an odd urge to tug the pencil free to see just how far her hair would fall. Would it be her waist or her hips?

“Ahem.” Raphael cleared his throat, which made her head snap in our direction.

Wide hazel eyes blinked at me.

Beautiful.

A gasp escaped her pink lips as they parted, and a second passed before she jumped, her Cheetos flying everywhere like confetti as she screamed so loud that I had to take a step back.

“Si, calm the fuck down.” Raphael was on her side, patting her shoulder.

Her hands cupped her mouth, her eyes still fixed on me in a ghostly stare.

Raphael whispered something in her ear, which seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in.

“Matty.” He turned to me with a cocky smile. “Sorry about my sister. Sierra, here, is a little jumpy.”

“No, I’m not,” she whispered, her hands dropping to her side. “I was just surprised.” She made a timid step forward, holding out her hand. “I’m Sierra,” she breathed.

I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Sierra.” I grasped her small hand in mine. Her tiny fingers poked out of my huge palm, which swallowed her hand.

The touch of her soft skin sent a weird charge to my heart. She just stood there staring at me with her wide hazel eyes.

Did she feel weird too?

I quickly dropped her hand.

My hand paused midair when I saw powdery orange spots sprinkled over my palm.

Now, I knew the reason for the questionable orange spots in her hoodie.

“Fuck.” I heard a soft curse.

My eyes flew to her once again, and she was in a shade of crimson as she gazed at my hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I muttered, wiping it away on my hoodie, which I’ll probably throw away after tonight.

“Sierra, please tell me what was the possible need for you to scream like that,” reprimanded a voice that entered the room.

An older lady, whom I assumed to be their mother, slid her sharp gaze to me. “And who might you be?”

Fuck, this was going to be a long fucking night.

Ten minutes later, Raphael’s entire family gathered in the living room.

I sat beside Raphael while his parents sat opposite, watching us intently. His sister stood in the corner stealing glances at me while still sporting the bright flush on her beautiful skin.

Like the sky when the sun was setting.

His Abuela sat in her rocking chair, too focused on the TV to even care about the tense energy slithering in the air.