Blanca’s Hometown (2)

^Not Blanca’s Hometown^

<><><><><><><><>

Blanca’s Hometown Part One (1 minute)

<><><><><><><><>

Part Two

I rang the doorbell to some red bricked house with an open acre in the back, the house Blanca grew up in. She would always talk about how red bricked houses with french doors went unmatched. God I hated it.

The door creaked open, dust flew out and a man with dark skin, a nose ring, and crimson hair opened up. Headphones hung around his neck and some fast, eccentric and electronic music blasted out. This dude was into anime, I could just tell.

I squinted my eyes at him. He squinted back. Blanca’s new boyfriend? An old relative? Was this her dad? That would explain a ton.

*I’ll never see the sunrise again** went the music right before the bass drum kicked in and a loud screechy melody dropped.

Spike’s Music

“Do you know Blanca?” I help up a Polaroid picture. Blanca looked cute: pigtails, fine pale skin, fluffy lips, a wink on her face. Even knowing who she was and what she was cable of, I still swooned over that picture. I think it was really do to the slight puffiness of her cheeks.

“That’s my sister.” The dude blew a small green bubble. Blanca never mentioned at brother, though she never mentioned her family.

“You know I never knew Blanca had a brother.” I wondered if I even had the right house. I mean there was no way these two were related. I mean unless this guys was-

“I was adopted two years ago.”

“Oh ok.” I figured that asking anymore questions would only make me more confused. This dude didn’t look over twenty.

There was a little lull in the air, only filled with more hardcore rave music.

“Don’t you have a job?” This dude asked.

“I… It’s summer vacation.” This of course was a roundabout way of saying that, no, I didn’t have a job. “I was just looking for Blanca is all. What’s your name again?”

“It’s Spike. Well I don’t know where she is. But if you want to talk more you’re gonna have to come with me. I got places to be.” Spike unhooked a backpack from a nearby rack and pushed his way out the door.

“Ok I’ll go.” I said.

Spike stopped and turned and gave me this ‘are you serious?’ look. Truth is I didn’t come all the way out to Texas just to turn around. Might as well make a friend. Might as well try and dig deep into Blanca’s hometown.

“Then let’s go,” He jumped in his Nissan Skyline, red, huge spoiler, shinning rims, that engine Jesus Christ. “Sit in the back. The front’s full of shit.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -

Another:

Follow on Twitter

Eric Isaac on Amazon

Peace.

Like what you read? Give Eric a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.