Callie rubbed my arm. “You’ll find someone who treats you right.”
My heart swelled at the genuine way she spoke the words. Like she really believed them. I was starting to lose hope myself.
The bell rang, signaling the end of our conversation. Ginger and I usually walked together to videography class, but I had to get my books.
“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll catch up.”
She waved and started down the hall, her red curls bouncing. I turned the opposite way, stopping at locker 334. After dialing my combination, I caught sight of something unusual out of the corner of my eye.
I did a double-take and saw Kai walking toward me, shaggy black hair falling across his forehead.
Instinctively, I folded my arms across my chest, like I could retroactively cover up from being exposed this morning. “Yes?”
He lifted a folded piece of paper. “You forgot something at my house this morning.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
With a crooked smile, he said, “My number.” He handed me the paper and took a few steps backward then turned and disappeared in the sea of students.
My mouth gaped open, still in disbelief. I opened the paper to see if I’d had a momentary lapse in my grasp of reality, but no such luck.
Inside the note, there was a phone number and two words: Call me.
Four
I met the girls at our usual table in the AV storage room and slapped the paper on the table.
Zara picked it up and eyed it. “Whose number is this?”
I glanced at the note, hardly believing what I was about to say. “Kai’s.”
A collective gasp rippled through my friends.
“No way!” Ginger cried, taking the paper and looking at it up close like someone might examine a counterfeit bill. “When did he give you this?”
“On my way to first period.” I told them how he’d given it to me, and Zara rolled her eyes.
“What a line,” she said.
“I know.” I scoffed. “It’s ridiculous. Why would he want me to call him anyway?”
All four of them stared at me.
“Um,” Rory said, “should I take this one?”
The others nodded.
She cleared her throat and looked me straight in the eyes. “Because you’re hot?”
I snorted. “He did see me half naked this morning.”
The ruckus that ensued was enough to make Mr. Davis, the AV teacher, turn his head toward us. I made a mental note to talk a little more quietly. We all knew his noise-cancelling headphones weren’t as soundproof as we’d once assumed.
I whispered the humiliating story to them, covering my face the entire time. The only reason I believed it was real was because it happened to me. It was so embarrassing, and I had an uncanny knack for personal mortification.
Zara grinned, waggling her eyebrows. “Looks like he wants more than the preview.”
Ginger nodded. “But there’s no way you’re calling him, right?”
“Nope,” I said. “I would need all my fingers and toes to count the reasons that would be a terrible idea.”
“Good,” Rory said. “I had him as a partner for our final project in computer class last year. He did the whole assignment before I got the chance to even talk to him about it! He thinks he knows everything because he helped his dad code Rush+.”
So not only was he rich, he was chauvinistic. Of course. “Not exactly what I’m looking for in a boyfriend.”
Callie smiled at me as I sat down. “You can do better,” she said. “Imagine all the guys you’ll meet in college.”
I gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks. Now, can we talk about something else so I can stop thinking about Kai Rush?”
Zara grinned. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”
For the rest of the day, I kept myself busy with classes, Kai Rush long forgotten. I was at Emerson Academy on scholarship, but Headmaster Bradford made it clear in the initial meeting with my mom that this wasn’t a handout. I’d be expected to keep my grades up and behave well if I wanted to stay at the Academy. There had been plenty of times I wanted to call people out on their crap, like Merritt when she said plus-size girls couldn’t date hot guys, but I had to keep my mouth shut. My future meant more to me than putting people in their place.
When I got home that afternoon, I took out my homework, making sure it was done before I worried about anything else. I had to stay focused so I could help Mom with the business and achieve the way I needed to at school. Once I graduated, I could relax. Now was not that time.
With my homework completed, I set to work in the kitchen. Cooking didn’t come as naturally for me as it did for Mom, but I tried. She deserved a good meal at the end of the day, especially with how hard she worked.
I started with the beans that had been soaking and threw them into a pan, along with a few scoops from the massive bag of rice Mom had snagged on a discount. Once I had the rice boiling, I began chopping a sausage into chunks, along with an onion and tomato. All of the main ingredients, plus some seasonings—cilantro, saffron, garlic, salt and pepper.
Soon, our entire apartment smelled of the dish, and I breathed it in deeply. So much better than the sandwiches I packed for lunch every day at school.
I got out an old butter tub and spooned some of the meal into it. Using masking tape and a Sharpie, I wrote what I’d made and the date on top. Bringing my keys with me, I walked out of our apartment and down the dimly lit hallway with fraying carpet and black scuffs all over the lime-green walls.
At the end of the path, I went down the bowing stairs and then headed to apartment 112. The sound of a blaring television came from underneath the door. I rapped on the door as loud as I could because I knew the Gutiérrezes were hard of hearing.
The television muted, and suddenly, the quiet practically echoed off the walls. Glancing side to side, I waited several long moments for them to reach the door.
It swung open, and Mrs. Gutiérrez smiled at me through thick glasses. “Hola, mi dulce!”
She’d been calling me her “sweet” since Mom and I had moved in ten years ago. I still remembered sitting amidst what few boxes we owned at that time when Mrs. Gutierrez walked in with a plate full of polvorones de canela. Usually we only had the cinnamon cookies at weddings or holidays, but when Mom asked her what the special occasion was, she said, “Una familia nueva siempre es ocasión para celebrar.” A new family is always reason to celebrate.
From that day on, they had brought us under their wing, and we cared for each other like family. Aside from Mom’s parents in Mexico, they were the only grandparents I knew.
I grinned at Mrs. Gutiérrez and held out the dish. “Traigo frijoles y arroz para ustedes.”
Her smile grew wider, showing her straight, white dentures. “Muchas gracias. Pasale.”
She always told me to come inside, but ever since becoming a student at the Academy, my free time was less and less. Plus, my mom would be coming home soon, and I needed to get my homework done. “Lo siento. Tengo que hacer los deberes y hablar con mi mama. Pero espero que disfruten la comida.”
With a smile, she nodded. “Por su puesto.” She held up the butter tub. Of course they would enjoy the food, she told me. “Gracias.”