Penelope grabs Melaina’s hand and leads her away to a nearby kiosk. Penelope will try her best to simmer Melaina’s jealousy. The only way to distract Melaina is by showering her with compliments.
I can’t today with the way people are acting out. I don’t like when my friends are rude. Eury doesn’t deserve it. She is a guest in our group, and we should be welcoming her. Eury watches Penelope and Melaina walk off. She seems uncomfortable. She faces the ocean, deep in thought. Does she hate us already?
To ease the awkward silence between us, I reach for my guitar. I sit on the cooler and let my fingers strum familiar chords. Before we arrived, I made sure to do a quick search online. I can improvise the parts I’m not too sure of. The song will be an offering, a way to erase the drama Melaina is trying to pull. I sing Prince’s “Adore” in Spanish. I only had time to memorize the first verse. I kick off the second verse with the original lyrics.
Eury recognizes the tune right away and finally pushes her hair away from her face. Her sadness slowly melts.
No one else is around. Jaysen and Aaron are meeting others to help carry stuff. Penelope and Melaina are taking their time at the kiosk. This is my favorite thing to do—to share an intimate moment and make someone’s mood change. It didn’t work for Pops earlier, but at least it can here. Eury is no longer watching the sea; instead she’s listening. With my voice and my guitar, I’m an alchemist.
“I never heard ‘Adore’ sung that way before,” she says when I’m done. “It’s beautiful.”
“I told you Prince was Puerto Rican,” I say. “Kidding.”
I hit pause for a second. “You must miss Puerto Rico,” I say.
“Yes.” Her sadness returns and overshadows the good. “I miss it so much.”
“The hurricane?” I ask.
She nods. I don’t know what it must be like to be forced to leave your home. I don’t wish it on anyone. There is a silence, and although silence can make others feel uncomfortable, I accept it. It’s okay to let the other person find the right words to communicate. It is the same with music.
I ask her if she wants to check out the water, and she says yes. We walk on the not-yet-scorching sand. There are only a few families around. Young kids building their sandcastles. In a few minutes, the place will be jumping. I love when the beach is quiet like this. A person can think.
“Orchard Beach is no Puerto Rico,” I say. I’m about to hit Eury with what I’m really good at—history. “Did you know Orchard Beach is the only beach in the Bronx? This used to be Siwanoy territory and was called Split Rock. A super religious woman, Anne Hutchinson, decided to lay claim to the land. The people were not happy. There was a massacre. So, you know, like most things, it’s a decent beach created by lots of bloodshed.”
A slight breeze blows her hair. The sun hits her profile like a spotlight. She radiates and I’m rendered speechless staring at her.
“Why are you telling me this?” she says. Her face is serious, but there’s a glint in her eyes, a hint that maybe I’m not completely boring her. Her brown eyes are really something. It’s weird how I can already form lyrics to songs just from this moment we’re sharing.
“Sorry, history is my thing,” I say. “What I’m trying to say is parts of Puerto Rico may have been destroyed, but beauty always finds a way of making a comeback.”
“I guess that can be true,” she says. “But darkness can still lurk underneath the pretty. I’ve known beautiful people who are arbiters of hate. Ato once …”
“Ato?” I ask. Is Ato slang for something in Puerto Rico? “What’s an Ato?”
“Sorry. Never mind. I forgot where I was,” she says. Her eyes dart frantically around. This must be a jab at Melaina and she doesn’t want her to hear it. Funny. There’s more to Eury than just shyness.
“Anyway, Prince, huh?”
“Yes, Prince.”
Melaina’s voice is loud. She is letting her presence be known. I want to keep talking to Eury about Bronx history and Prince covers. Melaina and I rarely speak about anything interesting. We keep things superficial. It’s a summer relationship, and summer relationships are meant to burn up fast.
Eury bends down and unearths a seashell. When she stands, she gently brushes the sand off. I lean in to get a closer look. There is a scent of Moroccan oil emanating from her. It’s one of my favorite smells, reminding me of calmness. Her fingernails are bare. Her lips, full, with only a hint of rose.
The seashell she holds has red spots and a perfect spiral.
“Pretty,” she says.
“Yes,” I say.
I can’t stop staring.
CHAPTER 4
Eury
Speaking to people comes easily for others, especially Penelope. She went to modeling school. They taught her how to be poised and how to walk into a room wearing heels. The summer after she graduated from the Mirror Mirror Modeling Agency, she spent hours on FaceTime trying to teach me how to do the same. Penelope can talk to anyone. I, on the other hand, can’t figure out what to say to Pheus without uttering Ato’s name. I’m so careless. Listening to him sing “Adore” in Spanish made me forget what I’m meant to do. I have to stay vigilant.
I tuck the shell into my borrowed shorts.
“Where does your name come from?” I ask as we walk back to the others.
“It’s my stage name. My real name is Orpheus,” he says. “Moms wanted to call me something kingly like David or Rion. Pops had other ideas. He said I was born to be a poet. I don’t know about that.”
“Pheus.” I repeat his name and suddenly feel foolish doing so. He smiles warmly at me. I walk a little faster.
Penelope warned me to steer away from Pheus and Jaysen. Jaysen because he is a firecracker, popping off here and there. He’s unable to focus or be contained. Pheus because everyone is in love with him, especially Melaina, who is not so much in love with as in possession of.
Melaina plants a long kiss on Pheus. When she’s done, she makes sure I witnessed the display. Her arms stay interlocked around his neck. Pheus seems bothered by the gesture. Perhaps he doesn’t want to be the sole focus of her attention.
I lie down on the blanket. Penelope joins me.
“Sorry about the drama,” Penelope says quietly. “It takes a while for Melaina to warm up to new people.”
“Or maybe she’ll never warm up to me,” I say.
“Ha ha ha. No!” A nervous laugh. Penelope’s embarrassed by Melaina’s attitude. These are her friends and it must be uncomfortable to see the way they act toward a stranger.
“He can really sing,” I say.
“Aww, don’t fall for that old trick. Besides, I thought you only had ears for Prince,” Penelope says. “Did you see my boo? Aaron’s not the smartest, but he is the finest.”
Aaron laughs out loud while Jaysen tells him a story having to do with a mean bodega cat. I haven’t really spoken to Aaron, but I’ve seen the way he looks at Penelope. He caters to her, always making sure she’s taken care of, offering her water or something to eat. Part of me is happy for Penelope. The other part wants to warn her to be wary of kindness from anyone.