PRINCESA
YASMIN BOAKYE
Usually, the girls were quiet when he picked them up to be initiated. Not this one. Eduardo struggled to remember her name. Elena, Darlene? Something with E at the beginning or the end.
"Blue or yellow?" she asked him, holding two lacy tank tops to her chest.
“I don’t care,” Eduardo told her again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He felt the smooth metal of his car keys and clenched them tightly in his left fist, hoping to renew his patience. This was at least the hundredth outfit choice she had asked him to make. This was at least the hundredth time he had told her that he didn’t care.
"But I care, Eduardo,” she whined. “Come on, help me out. You’re clearly ready to get out of here.”
Eduardo gave her the most apathetic look he could muster. She laughed and chose the blue without his help, carefully folding the tank top and placing it into one of her pink duffles. She hung the yellow one up her in her closet, like she was expecting to come back someday. Most girls threw everything into one of two garbage bags, one filled with things to take with them, one filled with things to throw away. Usually they didn’t have a lot of things in the first place. This girl had two closets and two dressers.
Eduardo sat on the floor. It was some kind of hardwood that felt even worse than standing up, but he had been waiting for an hour and he didn’t want to sit on her bed and he definitely didn’t want to sit in the pink butterfly chair in the corner. He crossed his legs uncomfortably and checked his texts as she continued to fill her bags with more shit she didn’t need. She giggled when she noticed him.
"You know I have a chair for a reason, right?"
“I’m okay,” he told her without lifting his head. Ricky had texted him a few times and the last thing Eduardo wanted was for him to get pissed and come after him. The first message read Where you at? It was followed by everbodys already here hurry up and then you fucking my bitch eddie? Eduardo typed out shes taking forever to get ready not my fault and hit reply. He paused for a moment, then typed besides i would never fuck your girl and hit reply again.
He looked up. She stood over him, smiling dumbly as she twirled a few thick strands of hair around a bony finger. She was mostly pretty but she was also Ricky’s new girlfriend and that meant that, outside of initiation, she was off limits. More than off limits. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at her in the eyes again. She probably wouldn’t want to look at him, either.
“I’m finished,” she told him, smacking her gum noisily before yanking one end from her mouth and stretching it until she could stick both thumbs between the pale pink stuff to make a triangle the size of her face.
“That’s disgusting,” Eduardo mumbled, even though before he was grossed out a photo of a little girl blowing a bubble that covered half her face flashed in his head. She was the daughter of a man he had only met once, when he was six, during a party. Eduardo’s mother had already had four or five beers when she nudged him and said, “That’s him. That’s your fucking papi. Go over and say hi.” The image of the guy was blurred, but Eduardo would never forget the photo.
“I’m not your fucking father,” the man whispered angrily into Eduardo’s ear. “I’ve known your mami longer than you’ve been alive. She’s a liar. Look at her. She’s drunk.”
Eduardo looked over. His mother was sucking down another beer. When he turned back to his father, he was pulling out his wallet.
“This is my daughter. My little princesa, Lexi. She’s your age. She would be your half-sister if I was your papi, but a good man can’t have two kids that are the same age by two different women. Go run along and tell your mother that.”
Eduardo ran back to his mother, and she rubbed his forehead. Her hands were warm.
"That wasn't my dad, mami."
"I know. But you always wanted one and I figured it was worth a try."
"Blue or yellow?" she asked him, holding two lacy tank tops to her chest.
“I don’t care,” Eduardo told her again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He felt the smooth metal of his car keys and clenched them tightly in his left fist, hoping to renew his patience. This was at least the hundredth outfit choice she had asked him to make. This was at least the hundredth time he had told her that he didn’t care.
"But I care, Eduardo,” she whined. “Come on, help me out. You’re clearly ready to get out of here.”
Eduardo gave her the most apathetic look he could muster. She laughed and chose the blue without his help, carefully folding the tank top and placing it into one of her pink duffles. She hung the yellow one up her in her closet, like she was expecting to come back someday. Most girls threw everything into one of two garbage bags, one filled with things to take with them, one filled with things to throw away. Usually they didn’t have a lot of things in the first place. This girl had two closets and two dressers.
Eduardo sat on the floor. It was some kind of hardwood that felt even worse than standing up, but he had been waiting for an hour and he didn’t want to sit on her bed and he definitely didn’t want to sit in the pink butterfly chair in the corner. He crossed his legs uncomfortably and checked his texts as she continued to fill her bags with more shit she didn’t need. She giggled when she noticed him.
"You know I have a chair for a reason, right?"
“I’m okay,” he told her without lifting his head. Ricky had texted him a few times and the last thing Eduardo wanted was for him to get pissed and come after him. The first message read Where you at? It was followed by everbodys already here hurry up and then you fucking my bitch eddie? Eduardo typed out shes taking forever to get ready not my fault and hit reply. He paused for a moment, then typed besides i would never fuck your girl and hit reply again.
He looked up. She stood over him, smiling dumbly as she twirled a few thick strands of hair around a bony finger. She was mostly pretty but she was also Ricky’s new girlfriend and that meant that, outside of initiation, she was off limits. More than off limits. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at her in the eyes again. She probably wouldn’t want to look at him, either.
“I’m finished,” she told him, smacking her gum noisily before yanking one end from her mouth and stretching it until she could stick both thumbs between the pale pink stuff to make a triangle the size of her face.
“That’s disgusting,” Eduardo mumbled, even though before he was grossed out a photo of a little girl blowing a bubble that covered half her face flashed in his head. She was the daughter of a man he had only met once, when he was six, during a party. Eduardo’s mother had already had four or five beers when she nudged him and said, “That’s him. That’s your fucking papi. Go over and say hi.” The image of the guy was blurred, but Eduardo would never forget the photo.
“I’m not your fucking father,” the man whispered angrily into Eduardo’s ear. “I’ve known your mami longer than you’ve been alive. She’s a liar. Look at her. She’s drunk.”
Eduardo looked over. His mother was sucking down another beer. When he turned back to his father, he was pulling out his wallet.
“This is my daughter. My little princesa, Lexi. She’s your age. She would be your half-sister if I was your papi, but a good man can’t have two kids that are the same age by two different women. Go run along and tell your mother that.”
Eduardo ran back to his mother, and she rubbed his forehead. Her hands were warm.
"That wasn't my dad, mami."
"I know. But you always wanted one and I figured it was worth a try."
*
“I know it’s disgusting. It’s a bad habit.” The girl smiled and picked up one of the duffles before walking out of the door. She switched her hips from side to side in a way that looked good but still made Eduardo think that her older sister or some other girl had told her to do it to seem sexier. Her thick black ponytail hung halfway down her back and traced a figure-eight in the space behind her back over and over again.
Eduardo stood awkwardly. He peered down the hallway and realized that she hadn’t bothered to wait for him. He grabbed her other duffle, switched off the light, and followed her down the stairs.
Eduardo stood awkwardly. He peered down the hallway and realized that she hadn’t bothered to wait for him. He grabbed her other duffle, switched off the light, and followed her down the stairs.
*
It was either Eliza or Elena, he had decided as he’d crossed through her parents’ living room towards the front door. There were pictures of her everywhere, he’d noticed on his way in. There wasn’t any way he could have missed them, even with his head down – there were a few on the floor, probably knocked down by the stupid dog that had circled his feet when she opened the door. Baby pictures, toddler pictures, those once a year school pictures that Eduardo’s mother had never bothered to pay for. He used to convince himself that his were going to be ugly anyway, so that he felt okay when everyone got their packets a few weeks later and he had nothing to trade. Hers were pretty, he noticed on the way out. Not just because she looked good, but because in each one someone had rubbed a little bit of blush on her cheeks and swiped her lips with a little bit of gloss. Someone had run a hot curling iron through her hair the morning before and someone had set the curls with enough hairspray to keep them bouncy until second period, when class got interrupted so everyone could walk single file to the auditorium to be photographed.
"She's a pretty girl, isn't she?"
Eduardo instinctively stepped back a bit, and a little color came to his face as he realized how long he had been staring. He turned to face the great-grandmother, who he recognized from one of the many full-family photos. It seemed they hadn’t taken one of those in a while, or maybe something was wrong, because the grandmother looked at least ten years closer to death. A clear plastic tube weaved its way down from her eroding face to what Eduardo assumed was an oxygen tank. She smiled and revealed a few missing teeth. Her noisy breaths cracked through the silence of the room.
“Yeah, real pretty,” Eduardo told her, smiling to appear as sincere as someone who looked like him possibly could. She smiled back and wrapped her arms around his body.
“Have a nice date,” she whispered as close to his ear as she could get. “And hurry up. She’s already outside.”
"She's a pretty girl, isn't she?"
Eduardo instinctively stepped back a bit, and a little color came to his face as he realized how long he had been staring. He turned to face the great-grandmother, who he recognized from one of the many full-family photos. It seemed they hadn’t taken one of those in a while, or maybe something was wrong, because the grandmother looked at least ten years closer to death. A clear plastic tube weaved its way down from her eroding face to what Eduardo assumed was an oxygen tank. She smiled and revealed a few missing teeth. Her noisy breaths cracked through the silence of the room.
“Yeah, real pretty,” Eduardo told her, smiling to appear as sincere as someone who looked like him possibly could. She smiled back and wrapped her arms around his body.
“Have a nice date,” she whispered as close to his ear as she could get. “And hurry up. She’s already outside.”
*
She was leaning on his car, still playing with her gum. He hated it when people touched his car. He would have said something but she turned around when she heard the front door shut and rolled her eyes. He clicked open the trunk and she placed her duffle inside before making her way to the passenger seat. She screamed at him to hurry up before she slammed the door shut.
Eduardo sighed as he placed the second bag into the trunk and unlocked his side of the car. Her feet were hanging out of the window and her toes were a half-inch from grazing the passenger side mirror. Eduardo took a breath.
"Please move you feet. Please."
She curled each leg into the car slowly as Eduardo clenched his teeth, unwilling to hide his frustration. No girl had ever disrespected his ride like that before. She looked at him and laughed.
"I'm sorry. You mad?"
"No."
There was a bit of silence that followed. Finally. He thought that she would shut up after that, but the second he started the engine, she began to chatter again. She was smacking her gum and talking about one time when she had been riding in her tio’s car and something about how he always let her put her feet out of the window. Eduardo pretended he wasn’t listening, fiddling with the stereo instead to try to drown out her voice. He didn’t want to know about her tio.
"Didn't any of your tios ever do stuff like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like slip you candies under the table, or give you an extra slice of cake or something?”
"No."
She cracked her gum.
"Oh."
This time the silence lasted a little bit longer. Eduardo opened his window and took a breath of fresh air.
Eduardo sighed as he placed the second bag into the trunk and unlocked his side of the car. Her feet were hanging out of the window and her toes were a half-inch from grazing the passenger side mirror. Eduardo took a breath.
"Please move you feet. Please."
She curled each leg into the car slowly as Eduardo clenched his teeth, unwilling to hide his frustration. No girl had ever disrespected his ride like that before. She looked at him and laughed.
"I'm sorry. You mad?"
"No."
There was a bit of silence that followed. Finally. He thought that she would shut up after that, but the second he started the engine, she began to chatter again. She was smacking her gum and talking about one time when she had been riding in her tio’s car and something about how he always let her put her feet out of the window. Eduardo pretended he wasn’t listening, fiddling with the stereo instead to try to drown out her voice. He didn’t want to know about her tio.
"Didn't any of your tios ever do stuff like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like slip you candies under the table, or give you an extra slice of cake or something?”
"No."
She cracked her gum.
"Oh."
This time the silence lasted a little bit longer. Eduardo opened his window and took a breath of fresh air.
*
This is how it happened for Eduardo.
One day, some of the boys in VL came to the neighborhood pool to recruit, jumping the fence and scaring all the little black and Hispanic kids away. The white kids didn’t know the difference between them and any other slick-haired teenage boys, but the morenos knew these kids by heart. They were the same boys that their mothers had always said to watch out for as they walked their sons home from the bus stop. They had gone from the kids who walked home alone every afternoon without a backpack to the boys who were never in school at all. Eduardo had never understood what his mother meant when she told him to watch out for those boys. Was he supposed to keep an eye on them? Watch their every move? She didn’t say.
He had watched them from a distance until the day at the pool. A small group of lifeguards were taking the boys and girls without mothers into the guard office to cower in fear. Eduardo remembered being paralyzed with some nameless emotion that combined fear and intrigue as the VL boys approached Luis and Roberto. They were best friends who dominated the high dive, the type of boys that teachers and counselors at Community were surprised to find out were not already in VL.
As he watched them, Eduardo’s old buddy Dominic tugged at his dripping swim trunks, silently begging him to creep closer to the safety of the guard office. It was in the few seconds that Eduardo glanced at the office, looking through the window to see his classmates and neighbors in a pathetic heap on the floor, that Ricky came up to him and squeezed his arm.
Dominic let out a gasp, and then began to stammer in defense of his friend.
“Sir, please, we just gonna, you see, he gotta cut that he needs to get cl-“
Ricky held his other hand to get Dominic to shut the fuck up.
"Yo, don't shit your pants."
What he said wasn’t that funny, but Ricky’s laughter was overpowering. His hand was still firmly grasping Eduardo’s upper arm, and the ripples found their way from the older boy’s chest into the younger boy’s arm. Eduardo began to laugh, and he felt bad for a long time afterward, because Dominic had tried so hard. But it was hopeless. Dominic looked at Eduardo briefly. He could barely keep his eyes off the ground long enough for Eduardo to silently say go, Dominic, it’s cool. Ricky told him to fuck off instead. He obliged without looking back.
Later on, Ricky would say that he’d picked Eduardo because of the way he was staring at him as they recruited the other boys.
“Everybody was running and you was just staring, just watching us. That’s when I knew you weren’t afraid.”
One day, some of the boys in VL came to the neighborhood pool to recruit, jumping the fence and scaring all the little black and Hispanic kids away. The white kids didn’t know the difference between them and any other slick-haired teenage boys, but the morenos knew these kids by heart. They were the same boys that their mothers had always said to watch out for as they walked their sons home from the bus stop. They had gone from the kids who walked home alone every afternoon without a backpack to the boys who were never in school at all. Eduardo had never understood what his mother meant when she told him to watch out for those boys. Was he supposed to keep an eye on them? Watch their every move? She didn’t say.
He had watched them from a distance until the day at the pool. A small group of lifeguards were taking the boys and girls without mothers into the guard office to cower in fear. Eduardo remembered being paralyzed with some nameless emotion that combined fear and intrigue as the VL boys approached Luis and Roberto. They were best friends who dominated the high dive, the type of boys that teachers and counselors at Community were surprised to find out were not already in VL.
As he watched them, Eduardo’s old buddy Dominic tugged at his dripping swim trunks, silently begging him to creep closer to the safety of the guard office. It was in the few seconds that Eduardo glanced at the office, looking through the window to see his classmates and neighbors in a pathetic heap on the floor, that Ricky came up to him and squeezed his arm.
Dominic let out a gasp, and then began to stammer in defense of his friend.
“Sir, please, we just gonna, you see, he gotta cut that he needs to get cl-“
Ricky held his other hand to get Dominic to shut the fuck up.
"Yo, don't shit your pants."
What he said wasn’t that funny, but Ricky’s laughter was overpowering. His hand was still firmly grasping Eduardo’s upper arm, and the ripples found their way from the older boy’s chest into the younger boy’s arm. Eduardo began to laugh, and he felt bad for a long time afterward, because Dominic had tried so hard. But it was hopeless. Dominic looked at Eduardo briefly. He could barely keep his eyes off the ground long enough for Eduardo to silently say go, Dominic, it’s cool. Ricky told him to fuck off instead. He obliged without looking back.
Later on, Ricky would say that he’d picked Eduardo because of the way he was staring at him as they recruited the other boys.
“Everybody was running and you was just staring, just watching us. That’s when I knew you weren’t afraid.”
*
Dominic wasn’t friends with Eduardo anymore after that day, but from that moment on he had a lifelong bond with Ricky. It was just a trade, Eduardo mused. One friend for another. He thought about the times that his favorite basketball teams had traded his favorite players to other teams he didn’t like, or worse, when the players disappeared to play for teams overseas. Sometimes it sucked. Other times, he realized he liked the new players more than the old ones.
It was like that with Ricky. No, it was different. It was like he had changed teams. Going to school and hanging with dorks like Dominic was like playing on the D-league. He had graduated to the NBA. The whole scene had changed.
The day after initiation, all the boys had to wear their colors to school. The administrators always clustered by the streetside entrance on this day, every year, whispering the names of the boys in red into the static of their walkie-talkies. Sammy. Roberto. Luis. These boys would be watched like hawks for the rest of their careers at Community. Maggie, the principal’s secretary, would type up their names in a list and email it out to all of the teachers and counselors.
They did not whisper Eduardo’s name at first. He came into school that day, just like everyone else, wearing the unmistakable plain red t-shirt. But the principals refused to believe it. They rubbed their eyes, hoping that they had simply mistaken one Eduardo for another. This sometimes happened. Eduardo Flores? Sure. He was big and skipped class and terrorized girls. Eduardo Hernandez was a stretch, but it was believable. But Eduardo Rojas? Never.
It was a small school so they’d asked his Tia Darlene to see if it was true. The administrators couldn’t ask him directly – that would be inappropriate – but his aunt could. They were family.
Darlene Rojas worked as a substitute at Community. She read the email from the administrators and waited until her lunch break to go down to the main office to have the secretary call Eduardo out of class. The secretary wouldn’t look Darlene in the eyes.
When Eduardo came in a few minutes later, he wouldn’t look her in the eyes either, and this is how Darlene knew it was true.
"But why, mijo?"
Eduardo looked down at his new Jordans.
"How did you pay for those? Did they buy them for you?"
“I guess,” Eduardo said quietly. He was embarrassed. She was getting louder and the whole office was pretending not to watch. “Can I go?”
“Did you think about anybody, Eduardo? Did you think about me? Your mami, what would she have thought, God bless her soul?” Darlene’s face was flushed red with anger. “Your cousin–he looks up to you. I can’t have him around you anymore.”
Eduardo looked up at his aunt.
"Tia, please, it's not that serious."
She laughed.
“Don’t be stupid, Eduardo. Nobody’s an idiot here. Except you.”
Eduardo walked out of the office and headed back to class. Tia Darlene’s voice trailed behind him as the door shut.
“I don’t want to see you or any of your shit in my house when I get home.”
It was like that with Ricky. No, it was different. It was like he had changed teams. Going to school and hanging with dorks like Dominic was like playing on the D-league. He had graduated to the NBA. The whole scene had changed.
The day after initiation, all the boys had to wear their colors to school. The administrators always clustered by the streetside entrance on this day, every year, whispering the names of the boys in red into the static of their walkie-talkies. Sammy. Roberto. Luis. These boys would be watched like hawks for the rest of their careers at Community. Maggie, the principal’s secretary, would type up their names in a list and email it out to all of the teachers and counselors.
They did not whisper Eduardo’s name at first. He came into school that day, just like everyone else, wearing the unmistakable plain red t-shirt. But the principals refused to believe it. They rubbed their eyes, hoping that they had simply mistaken one Eduardo for another. This sometimes happened. Eduardo Flores? Sure. He was big and skipped class and terrorized girls. Eduardo Hernandez was a stretch, but it was believable. But Eduardo Rojas? Never.
It was a small school so they’d asked his Tia Darlene to see if it was true. The administrators couldn’t ask him directly – that would be inappropriate – but his aunt could. They were family.
Darlene Rojas worked as a substitute at Community. She read the email from the administrators and waited until her lunch break to go down to the main office to have the secretary call Eduardo out of class. The secretary wouldn’t look Darlene in the eyes.
When Eduardo came in a few minutes later, he wouldn’t look her in the eyes either, and this is how Darlene knew it was true.
"But why, mijo?"
Eduardo looked down at his new Jordans.
"How did you pay for those? Did they buy them for you?"
“I guess,” Eduardo said quietly. He was embarrassed. She was getting louder and the whole office was pretending not to watch. “Can I go?”
“Did you think about anybody, Eduardo? Did you think about me? Your mami, what would she have thought, God bless her soul?” Darlene’s face was flushed red with anger. “Your cousin–he looks up to you. I can’t have him around you anymore.”
Eduardo looked up at his aunt.
"Tia, please, it's not that serious."
She laughed.
“Don’t be stupid, Eduardo. Nobody’s an idiot here. Except you.”
Eduardo walked out of the office and headed back to class. Tia Darlene’s voice trailed behind him as the door shut.
“I don’t want to see you or any of your shit in my house when I get home.”
*
"Ricky doesn't talk about his family, either."
"That's because when you join, you get a new family."
"That's what Ricky says, too," she told him quietly.
Eduardo closed the window. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to."
"No, for real."
"Why did you do it?"
"I don't know."
“No, for real,” she joked. He wanted to snatch the gum out of her mouth and shake her. He couldn’t. It would be a waste of his time. She was just another dumb bitch, Eduardo kept telling himself. She wasn’t any different than any of the others. Nothing was special about her. Nothing was special about any of them.
She couldn't stand the silence, so she started talking again.
“You know why I’m doing this, Eduardo. Because Ricky asked me to be his girl and it’s a big part of who he is or whatever, so I had to do it.”
"No, you don't."
She looked at Eduardo incredulously. “When has Ricky ever been with somebody who wasn’t in VL? If I had said no, he would have dumped me.”
"So?"
"So I like him."
"But you know what happens, right?"
She laughed. "I'm not a virgin, Eduardo. And I'm not stupid."
“It’s not a joke, the kind of shit you have to do after you get in.”
"Nobody said it was a joke."
“If you’re so sure about everything, then why did you tell your abuela that we were going on a date?”
“What was I supposed to say? I’m joining a gang? I’m not coming back ever because you’ll hate me? Did you tell your family?”
"My mother is dead and nobody else gave a fuck."
"I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter."
Eduardo realized he had missed the turn and began to look for a place to make a U-turn. The girl put her hand on his thigh.
“Eduardo, I’m not as innocent as I look. Ricky wouldn’t have let me do it if I was.”
Eduardo clenched the steering wheel tightly, thinking back to the day at the pool. Had he been innocent? He wasn’t sure.
"My papi died last year,” she told him firmly. “We aren’t that different, Eduardo.”
It was in this moment that that Eduardo almost believed what he had been telling himself all along–that she was no different than anybody else. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished around for it to put it on silent.
"Was that Ricky?"
"Yeah."
"And you didn't answer?"
"Yeah."
"He's going to beat the shit out of you."
"I know."
Eduardo looked at her briefly, mildly amused. She glanced at over at him and smirked. They started to laugh.
“Don’t worry – he’s mad at me too. Look at this text,” she said, as she handed Eduardo a rhinestone-encrusted phone.
Eduardo took his eyes off the road to scan the message.
where the fuck are you guys lexi this isn't funny
He kept reading and re-reading the words until the car began to swerve off the road and the girl screamed at him to keep his eyes on the road. She took the phone back and he tried to focus but he felt like he couldn’t remember how to drive. A layer of sweat formed between his hands and the steering wheel, and his eyes started to feel funny.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked, squeezing Eduardo’s upper arm. “You okay?”
Eduardo pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store where he used to go shopping with his mother. He got out of the car and felt like vomiting, but he held his breath as he walked over to her side of the car and opened the door. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What's going on, Eduardo?"
"Nothing. Get out of the car."
"Why?"
“Get out of the fucking car and go home.” He wanted to say her name, but he couldn’t.
“What? Why? You’re freaking me out,” she said as she got out of the passenger seat. Eduardo opened the trunk and tossed her duffle bags onto the asphalt.
“Eduardo, stop!” she screamed, but he didn’t hear her. He was already sitting in front seat, restarting the engine. He sped away from her, as fast as he could, but even so he couldn’t help but see her in the rearview mirror, a pink sphere of gum covering half her face.
"That's because when you join, you get a new family."
"That's what Ricky says, too," she told him quietly.
Eduardo closed the window. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to."
"No, for real."
"Why did you do it?"
"I don't know."
“No, for real,” she joked. He wanted to snatch the gum out of her mouth and shake her. He couldn’t. It would be a waste of his time. She was just another dumb bitch, Eduardo kept telling himself. She wasn’t any different than any of the others. Nothing was special about her. Nothing was special about any of them.
She couldn't stand the silence, so she started talking again.
“You know why I’m doing this, Eduardo. Because Ricky asked me to be his girl and it’s a big part of who he is or whatever, so I had to do it.”
"No, you don't."
She looked at Eduardo incredulously. “When has Ricky ever been with somebody who wasn’t in VL? If I had said no, he would have dumped me.”
"So?"
"So I like him."
"But you know what happens, right?"
She laughed. "I'm not a virgin, Eduardo. And I'm not stupid."
“It’s not a joke, the kind of shit you have to do after you get in.”
"Nobody said it was a joke."
“If you’re so sure about everything, then why did you tell your abuela that we were going on a date?”
“What was I supposed to say? I’m joining a gang? I’m not coming back ever because you’ll hate me? Did you tell your family?”
"My mother is dead and nobody else gave a fuck."
"I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter."
Eduardo realized he had missed the turn and began to look for a place to make a U-turn. The girl put her hand on his thigh.
“Eduardo, I’m not as innocent as I look. Ricky wouldn’t have let me do it if I was.”
Eduardo clenched the steering wheel tightly, thinking back to the day at the pool. Had he been innocent? He wasn’t sure.
"My papi died last year,” she told him firmly. “We aren’t that different, Eduardo.”
It was in this moment that that Eduardo almost believed what he had been telling himself all along–that she was no different than anybody else. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished around for it to put it on silent.
"Was that Ricky?"
"Yeah."
"And you didn't answer?"
"Yeah."
"He's going to beat the shit out of you."
"I know."
Eduardo looked at her briefly, mildly amused. She glanced at over at him and smirked. They started to laugh.
“Don’t worry – he’s mad at me too. Look at this text,” she said, as she handed Eduardo a rhinestone-encrusted phone.
Eduardo took his eyes off the road to scan the message.
where the fuck are you guys lexi this isn't funny
He kept reading and re-reading the words until the car began to swerve off the road and the girl screamed at him to keep his eyes on the road. She took the phone back and he tried to focus but he felt like he couldn’t remember how to drive. A layer of sweat formed between his hands and the steering wheel, and his eyes started to feel funny.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked, squeezing Eduardo’s upper arm. “You okay?”
Eduardo pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store where he used to go shopping with his mother. He got out of the car and felt like vomiting, but he held his breath as he walked over to her side of the car and opened the door. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What's going on, Eduardo?"
"Nothing. Get out of the car."
"Why?"
“Get out of the fucking car and go home.” He wanted to say her name, but he couldn’t.
“What? Why? You’re freaking me out,” she said as she got out of the passenger seat. Eduardo opened the trunk and tossed her duffle bags onto the asphalt.
“Eduardo, stop!” she screamed, but he didn’t hear her. He was already sitting in front seat, restarting the engine. He sped away from her, as fast as he could, but even so he couldn’t help but see her in the rearview mirror, a pink sphere of gum covering half her face.
YASMIN BOAKYE is an essayist and fiction writer raised in the Maryland suburbs of DC. A 2014 Callaloo Fellow at Cave Hill, she is also a recipient of NYU Abu Dhabi's Global Academic Fellowship in Writing and a 2017 VONA/Voices participant at the University of Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in mater mea, X Magazine, and Bird's Thumb. She is currently based in St. Louis.
