“Sorry we late.” I give Penelope a kiss hello. Jaysen does the same. Her cousin seems distracted and doesn’t really acknowledge us.
“You expecting somebody else?” I ask, trying to figure out what she’s looking for.
“No,” Penelope says. She glances over to her cousin. For a second, I catch the concerned look before Penelope changes it into a smile.
“This is Eury. Eury, this is Jaysen and Pheus.”
I reach out my hand and Eury takes it. She has large brown eyes. No makeup needed for that beautiful melanin. A serious face, tho. No smile.
“Pheus? ¿Como feo?” Eury asks. Penelope cracks up.
“No, like fierce. It’s a nickname. Nice to meet you.” I hit her with mine, straight teeth and all. She doesn’t respond. Not the reaction I was expecting. “How you like the Bronx so far?”
Eury stares at the corner bodega. She finally meets my eyes for a split second, then looks away.
“She hasn’t even been here for a full twenty-four hours,” Penelope answers.
“Welcome to the Boogie Down anyway.” I tilt my head as if I am bowing to her, complete with an imaginary hat. When I look up, I notice an inkling of a grin. More than enough to verify I’m not a total fool.
Our boy Aaron honks the horn on his parents’ car. Before we even have a chance, Penelope calls shotgun. We pile in. These moments are rare. Usually we are either schlepping around in an Uber or taking the MTA. I’m glad Aaron came through this time.
I hold the car door open for Eury. She wears jean shorts and a shirt, both I know are from Penelope. The clothes fit differently on her. She fills the jeans out. Can’t help checking. I’m dressed in the usual, which is fine until I notice the light green shirt I’m wearing to show off my flow has a stain. Way to show them tiguere moves.
The radio is already on full blast with Cardi B’s latest trap remix. Head bouncing to the tune, Jaysen is consumed with texting the plans for today, although we pretty much know where to meet. Me, I’m trying to figure out Eury, who sits right beside me in the cramped car.
Even with her hair, I can still make out that she’s cute. Naw, she’s not cute. Cute is for a teddy bear. She’s more than that.
She holds her phone in her hand. Her screen has a picture of Prince on it. It’s an old one from when Prince had straightened hair. I prefer Prince with the ’fro.
“Prince fan?” I ask.
She nods. She’s not like Penelope who will talk to anyone about anything. Eury is so shy.
The car swerves and I lean into her. “Sorry.”
Her jump is noticeable. There’s no room in the back seat, what with my guitar case nestled between my legs. I apologize again and try my best to stick to the middle.
“It’s fine.”
I can hear the tilt in her voice. Puerto Rican accents are mad dope. Don’t get it twisted; Dominican accents are fine as hell. I don’t have a preference. I like them both. An accent makes you stand out, means you’re from somewhere. You are either a step away from your home or a step toward it. Her accent sounds like old-school salsa, like the right type of everything.
“I heard Prince is Puerto Rican. He never acknowledged that side of his roots, so he’s kind of wack, if you ask me.” I’m literally talking out of my ass. I don’t know a thing about Prince except tired ol’ “Purple Rain” and how he macked on the fine Apollonia.
Eury turns away from staring out the window and faces me. She doesn’t seem happy with what I said.
“It’s not true,” she says. “His parents were Black.”
“Aight. Makes sense. It’s why he got soul. I got soul too.” I tap the guitar in case she hadn’t noticed it before.
“Do you know any Prince songs?” she asks.
“My thing is bachata,” I say. “Al estilo romántico.”
“Like Romeo?”
“Yeah, but way better.”
“I don’t like bachata.”
I cling to my heart. Jaysen laughs out loud, his fingers still tapping away on the phone.
“That’s because you haven’t heard me sing.” I hum a tune. She’s not impressed. Just you wait. She’ll hear me. I’ve got to think of the right song, tho.
“Yo, check out that billboard. Dīs-traction. It’s a new club by Kingsbridge. Now that’s where you need to be at,” Jaysen says. “I know somebody who might be able to hook you up.”
It’s hard to believe they’re converting the former Kingsbridge Armory into an entertainment complex. A fancy restaurant has already set up shop with a rooftop pool and now a nightclub. Pops says he remembers when the National Guard occupied a section of the cavernous building. He also said the place has bad vibes. As for the name, they could have come up with a slew of better, catchier titles.
“Dīs-traction. Who came up with that? It’s just begging for people to dismiss it,” I say. “See what I did there?”
Eury barely smiles at my corny joke. At least it’s something.
“It don’t matter. They had their grand opening a month ago. Bused in models and celebrities,” Jaysen says. “You need to be on that stage since it’s definitely going to be the hottest club in the BX.”
Eury has turned her attention back to the window. I try to start another conversation with her. We keep getting interrupted by Jaysen and his plans for my grand debut, a debut I haven’t actually agreed to. Brother can never take a hint. Soon enough I give up trying. Instead I go over Prince songs in my head and see if I know any lyrics by heart.
Melaina has her daggers out. Strangers are not welcome in her world—especially if the strangers are of the female kind. She stands by the entrance of the beach. Her friends Thalia and Clio beside her. I call them las Malas, because they are.
“Who’s that?” Melaina hooks her arm around my elbow. Eury and Penelope walk a little ahead of us, unable to hear Melaina’s tongue.
“Penelope’s cousin. Her name is Eury.”
“Eury?” She throws her head back and laughs. I can see the back of her teeth.
“Don’t start nothing,” I say. “It’s ugly.”
“Shut up. You love it.”
It’s going to be a long day. There’s no way of controlling Melaina. We have never been exclusive—she sees other people, as do I. Summers uptown mean easy reunions. It’s usually fun, but not when she’s like this. Melaina wants to be the queen of every moment, and a new person distracts from her being the center. We join the others settling in on the beach.
“Melaina! This is my cousin Eury.” Penelope introduces them.
“Nice to meet you.” Melaina’s expression is a mask of sweetness. A face she holds only for people she doesn’t trust. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from the island,” Eury says.
“What island? There’s so many!” Melaina says. “You’ll have to be a little bit more specific.”
There is a meanness to the question. A slight.
“Girl! Why are you playing? She’s from Puerto Rico, right in the center of the island where the mountains are. A mountain girl!” Penelope can see where this is heading. “Come with me. I got to buy some water. Eury, we’ll be right back.”