Five more days, Javier thought as he stepped off the bus on Monday morning.
Sounded like a kid waiting for Christmas, but he was really a teenager sick of school bus rides and having his parents drive him everywhere. He could apply for his permanent license on Friday, his birthday. He knew there was an old truck parked in Uncle Willie’s back yard that would become his in just five more days.
He walked across the parking lot and toward the school buildings. He heard a series of car horns, and when he looked around, Javier saw Feliz’s dark car parked at the curb and Pat hopping out of it. He gestured at Javier to come over.
Grabbing a chance to see Feliz again, Javier immediately walked toward the driver’s side of the Berlanga’s car. When the front window slid down, he stopped and smiled at the pretty driver. “Hi, Feliz.”
“Hi, Javier,” she said, but her head was turned away. “I realized I don’t have your number to call you about my chemistry homework. Here!”
Suddenly her hand extended from the car window. She held an expensive phone.
Javier stepped forward and took it from her. His breath sucked tight inside his chest. He stared at Feliz, uncertain what to do next.
She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and sighed. “Well, punch your number in! You don’t expect me to do it, do you?”
“Sure, yeah, right,” Javier murmured and looked down at the thin silver phone. He might have looked really stupid, except it was exactly like his sister Vivian’s new phone. Yes! He felt very confident as he quickly punched numbers and his name into it. When would Feliz make first contact? His brain buzzed with the possibilities.
“Hey! Need some help back here!” Pat yelled out from behind the car.
“Okay!” Javier called back and slowly handed the phone to Feliz. He tried to imitate that smile Kenny had given Ms. Maloney the week before. “Call me any time, Feliz, anytime at all.”
She removed her sunglasses before she took the phone from his hand. “Maybe tonight … ” Her lips parted with a seductive smile. “… if you get lucky.”
“Javier!” Pat yelled louder.
The dark window lifted up automatically, and if Feliz still smiled at Javier, well, he couldn’t see it. He turned and quickly walked to the back of the car.
Pat had opened both back doors of the sports vehicle. He dragged the folded cardboard toward his body. “I can manage this. Just grab my backpack, okay?”
Javier reached for Pat’s backpack that rested on the asphalt behind the car. “Are you sure I can’t help you carry the board?”
“No. This isn’t heavy—just awkward.” He lifted the backdrop into his arms. “Shut the doors and follow me to Mr. Seneca’s room, okay?”
As Pat moved out of the way, Javier called out, “Goodbye, Feliz!” When he heard the music go louder in the vehicle, he sighed and shut both doors. He quickly stepped up on the curb in case she backed up and ran over him with her car.
Javier carried Pat’s backpack in one hand. It wasn’t very heavy—not like the full load Javier had brought home every weekend. Usually he could just walk from the bus into the buildings and the extra weight on his back wasn’t too bad. But this morning, he not only walked over to help Pat, but also around the school buildings to the other side of campus where Mr. Seneca’s portable building was located. By the time Javier walked up the stairs and opened up the door to the classroom, his back and shoulders felt like he had carried bricks up and down a ladder at one of his dad’s job sites.
Inside the room, Landry and Steve were already at the computers. Mr. Seneca sat in his wheelchair, pulling out equipment from the closets. “Good! Two more hands! Pat, put that thing in the corner, and we’ll look at it later. No time right now. Javier, come get these mikes. Pat, get the new announcements from Brother Lendell off my desk.”
Javier walked to the nearest desk and put Pat’s backpack on top. He took a moment to slide his own pack off his shoulders. It dropped to the floor with a loud clunk. He turned to his teacher. “Mr. Seneca, can I go to my locker first?”
“Aren’t you carrying your whole locker right there in your backpack?” He held out the microphones. “Really, Javier, who studies that much on a weekend, huh?”
Javier’s face sizzled with embarrassment. What could he say. I’m a nerd with no life? He walked to the cabinets and took the microphones from Mr. Seneca and was grateful his teacher didn’t say anything else.
When Javier set them down on the desk, he noticed a serious look on Pat’s face.
“What’s wrong?”
Silently, Pat handed him the paper to read for himself: We’d like everyone in the school to remember Kenny García’s uncle in our prayers. During Saturday’s football game, he had a heart attack. He’s still in intensive care at Santa Rosa hospital. The doctors are hopeful he will recover soon.
So Pat and Javier set up the camera as well as the desk area. He was reading over the script that Pat had typed up about the first loss of the football season when all six football players came into the classroom at one time.
Each one moved in a sullen silence, each pair of eyes narrow with a threatening glare. With tense shoulders and a stiff walk, it appeared that any of them would jump the first guy who said anything about the game.
Javier glanced at Pat, who shook his head and pulled that sheet of paper from Javier’s fingers. He wadded up the paper and shoved it in his pocket.
Pat leaned close and whispered, “Let’s just forget to mention the game.”
Mr. Seneca was back on his crutches, walking toward the upperclassmen. “Kenny’s absent today, so I need someone to step in. Ram, you need to do it.”
“Me?” Ram took a step away from the others. His face opened up in surprise. “You want me to work the camera?”
“You aim, you focus, you keep it on the speaker—either Javier or Pat. You’ve seen a week’s worth of shows now. You can handle it.” Mr. Seneca turned slightly toward Dylan and Omar. “I want you two to stand behind Landry and Steve this morning. I’m going to put you two on the computers starting next Tuesday.” He nodded toward the three juniors. “You managed to get here early this morning. What? No little sisters to drive to school? Is there a chicken pox epidemic at St. Vincent’s this week?”
The three juniors shifted their feet, their eyes lowered to the floor.
“When you learn to trust me and the other guys trying to put on a good show, maybe you can get promoted from janitor to announcer. In the meantime, one of you will stand with Ram in case he needs direction. I need one of you to stand by the door and turn off the air-conditioner as Ram signals the countdown. Ms. Maloney told me there is a humming in the background, and we think the AC is the problem. And the last guy can study the monitors and decide where we should hang the backdrop later.” He swiveled on his feet and called out, “Javier, Pat, ready for a sound check?”
As the football players got busy for the broadcast, Javier noticed how quickly the tension in the room had dissolved. He nudged Pat. “Get that announcement out of your pocket. I think the players would like to know we’re always behind them, win or lose.”
After a broadcast that was shaky but not disastrous, Mr. Seneca didn’t play back the program. Instead, he announced, “Okay, Pat, let’s see the backdrop.”
“Sure.” Pat walked to the corner and carried it closer to the desk area. He unfolded the cardboard and leaned it against the wall by the door.
At first, there was dead silence. Pat’s black eyebrows creased together as if he was worried no one liked it.
Javier stared with eyes wide open. Who would have expected a refrigerator box could be transformed from a white, flat surface to a detailed painting of the San Antonio skyline? What stood out most was the center image of the school. Pat had used various shades of gray to highlight and shadow the building to give it depth and dimension.
“Wow! Who painted this?” Landry asked.
Dylan shook his head. “Definitely not Berlanga. Javier, you did this, right?”
Javier had to smile. “I painted the base color and some of the blue sky. Pat is the real talent here.” He gave Pat a low thumbs-up that nobody noticed.
“Unbelievable,” Omar said. He turned to Pat, who grinned with pride.
One of the juniors said, “This will look great on camera, right, Mr. Seneca?”
Mr. Seneca, who had been standing near the cubicles, nodded his head. He moved on his crutches a few steps and then said, “Alright, you juniors, let’s put your long arms to good use and hang this backdrop behind the desk area.”
He directed Ram back to the camera and ordered Pat and Javier back into the desk area. They did some practice footage and tried to place the artwork in such a way that it didn’t distract from the two broadcasters. Everyone got so involved in positioning the artwork just right, first period seemed to be set on fast forward. Luckily, Steve noticed the clock and all the equipment was quickly taken down and stored because each boy in the room stepped up to help. Except for the backdrop hanging on the side of the room, the classroom was back to normal as the bell rang to end first period.
“I know you worked on a backdrop this weekend. Why wasn’t it on TV?” Ignacio asked Javier as they walked toward history class later that morning.
“There wasn’t time to hang it until after the broadcast. You’ll see it when we get to Mr. Seneca’s room,” Javier told him.
He enjoyed watching his friends and classmates’ expressions when they saw the drawing. And each time someone asked, “Who did this?” Javier found himself grinning as he said, “Pat Berlanga.”
The reply was always the same. “You mean the guy who sleeps in class?”
When Pat came into the classroom, Ignacio, Andy, and Bryce started clapping. He looked at the backdrop and then broke into a wide grin. Who wouldn’t like so much positive attention?
Unfortunately, Mr. Seneca started history class and explained a short research project due on Tuesday that ruined everybody’s good mood. Javier and his friends were still grumbling about the particulars when they met up for lunch.
“What a perfect way to mess up a holiday weekend!” Andy griped as he drummed a beat with his fingers on the cafeteria tabletop. “I’m all set to party at Javier’s house, and now I got to research Egyptians.”
“Hey, you’re lucky! I’m researching Assyrians,” Javier replied. He looked at Pat. “And what ancient civilization did Mr. Seneca give your row?”
“I got baloney or something,” Pat replied before he scooped beans into his mouth.
“What!” Ignacio started laughing. “Baloney? Don’t you mean Babylonians?”
Pat shrugged as everybody joined in the laughter. He swallowed and said, “It’s all baloney to me.” They all repeated “baloney” again and laughed some more.
“I’d like to know why teachers think Labor Day weekend means more time for homework,” Ignacio commented as they continued eating lunch. “We have two essays by Emerson to analyze, and I have a Bible test too. We already have the game on Saturday night, and then the big party at Javier’s house on Sunday.”
Javier slowly looked at Pat. Even though he had spent all day with Pat on Saturday, Javier hadn’t said anything about his party. Ignacio and Andy had come to Javier’s birthday parties since they were in kindergarten together. By now, the family treated his best friends like two more primos.
He felt he should extend the invite now that Ignacio had mentioned the party, so he slowly said, “My birthday party is Sunday around four. Would you like to come, Pat?”
Andy pointed a fork across the table. “The bigger question is, can you bring your sister to the party?”
“Yeah, right!” Javier quickly glared at Andy. “You know how crazy an Ávila birthday party can be—little kids crying over piñata candy, my uncles arguing about the Cowboys, my sisters and tías singing to Tejano tunes after they drink margaritas.”
“Yeah, but your dad barbecues three briskets,” Ignacio replied. “It’s so good!”
“And your Tía Celia makes aguas frescas and—oh, man—your mom makes that chocolate cake of hers!” Andy waved his fork like he was conducting an invisible band. He stopped and gave Pat a wicked smile. “Every year, I hear Javier’s Uncle Willie say eating the chocolate cake was better than having sex. Of course, the man’s in his seventies, so I’m sure he isn’t getting much sex anymore.”
What if Uncle Willie says that in front of Feliz? Javier thought. Could he take back the invitation? Maybe Pat wouldn’t want to come, and surely a girl like Feliz had lots of plans on a three-day weekend. When he looked again at Pat, the guy was smiling, something similar to the expression when everyone liked his painting.
“Yeah, Javier, I’ll go to your party. And I’ll ask Feliz to come with me.”
Javier adjusted the driver’s seat in his mother’s car to leave more leg room. He positioned the rearview mirror and then glanced at both side mirrors. The only thing he didn’t check was the expression on his mother’s face so he wouldn’t get nervous. He backed the car out of the driveway, grateful that her constant questions were often silenced when they drove together.
“You’re a good driver,” she said after he had made the tricky left turn onto the busy intersection toward the grocery store. “Eric and Leo were so impatient. Every time your dad drove with either of them, he came home and asked for a beer.” She laughed. “And your sisters! Oh, don’t get me started on their driving. Your Uncle Willie had to hammer the dents out of the car bumpers at least once a month!”
He immediately thought about Feliz. With the way she liked speed and got so close upon the car in front of her, did she ever cause an accident? Pat didn’t drive like a demon, but he also played loud music that interfered with conversation. They made him wonder about his own driving habits once he would drive alone.
Javier glanced at his mom and said, “Mom, it’s not a problem if I invite a couple more friends to my party, is it?”
“Who’s coming? Do I know their parents?”
“No, not the parents, but you met Pat and Feliz last week.”
“What about contact lens girl? Don’t you want to ask her?”
“No way,” he said. If Feliz had Brittany with her, she’d totally ignore Javier. When it had been just the three of them working on the backdrop, Feliz had acted very friendly. Not that he expected anything to happen at the party with la familia watching, but at least he wouldn’t be competing with one of Feliz’s girlfriends for her attention.
“Javier, you know two more people won’t make a difference to me. Besides, I like meeting your friends.” She pulled her purse onto her lap and started looking for something inside it. “But with so much family around, I probably won’t have much time to talk to them.”
“That’s okay, Mom.” Javier said, relieved. The last thing he wanted was his mother’s FBI questions to scare away Feliz.
That night he waited for Feliz’s phone call. No luck. As he fell asleep, Javier repeatedly called himself stupid for not asking Feliz for her number. Extra chances to see her evaporated quickly when his dad said at breakfast, “Son, I’ll pick you up after school this week so you can get more driving practice. I’d like to see how you handle the downtown traffic before I let you drive to school by yourself. ”
A sharp itch stung the top of Javier’s feet. He wiggled his toes inside his shoes. “Dad, don’t you think it’s time to park Uncle Willie’s truck at our house? I’d like to practice driving it. I know it will handle differently from driving Mom’s car.”
His father looked over at his mother, who quickly picked up her coffee cup, rose from the table, and said, “I need to get ready for the office.” She left the kitchen.
Javier’s dad reached for the sugar. “It’s time to live in the real world, Son. That old truck couldn’t make it around the block. Uncle Willie was nice to make you the offer, but your mom and I don’t think it would be reliable transportation, especially getting on and off the express-way and driving it in downtown traffic.”
Disappointment stuck to his body like a wet towel. “Dad, please don’t tell me I’ll be riding the school bus the rest of the year.” He looked at the breakfast cereal floating in the bowl in front of him. For the past two years he had told his friends he would have Uncle Willie’s truck to drive. Sure, it was old, but Andy’s cousin ran a body shop. Andy and Javier had been looking at paint books since last summer, planning how they might fix up the truck. Javier had saved his money to buy new tires. All that time they had spent imagining ways to improve the look of that truck. Now nothing! Gone! ¡Nada!
His father stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “You can be my chauffeur this week. Once you have your license, you can teach the bus driver how to drive, eh?”
Javier nodded. What could he say? If Uncle Willie’s truck wasn’t a piece of junk, wouldn’t the old guy still be driving it? How dumb was it to want an old truck that sat in your uncle’s back yard for the past five years?
He brooded on the school bus as he sat alone and ignored everyone around him. He had no truck to drive, Feliz didn’t call him, and he had two tests today! And he hated the fact that he still had to put himself on school TV that morning and pretend to be excited about the cafeteria hot dogs or senior photos. He would love to announce, “I think sophomore year sucks!” Why couldn’t he say that on school television?
Few students were in the hall when Javier dropped off his books at his locker and grabbed what he needed for the morning classes. As he walked toward the media classroom, his dismal mood hung over him like a rain cloud.
Setup in Mr. Seneca’s room was moving quickly when Javier came in. Even Kenny was back, adjusting the camera tripod so it would be more comfortable with his height. “Javier, sit there by Berlanga. I’ll need to focus in a couple of seconds.”
Javier dropped off his backpack and headed to the desk area where Pat sat at the table, reading over the announcements.
“Hey,” Pat glanced up from the papers in his hands. “Kenny’s uncle is out of danger now. Mr. Seneca wrote up something about it you need to read over.”
“Great,” Javier said as his body sank heavily into the chair beside Pat.
“You look like a ray of sunshine. Did somebody run over your cat this morning?”
“Very funny. It’s just been a lousy morning so far,” Javier said. “Oh, and by the way, I don’t need a ride home this week. My dad’s picking me up after school so I can do more driving. Although why I need to practice driving seems pointless now.” He sighed and reached for the papers on the desk. “I thought I was getting my uncle’s truck to drive, but my dad said it’s not … ” he paused to add extra sarcasm “… reliable.”
“Dads! They sure know how to ruin your life, don’t they?”
Javier nodded, but at least his dad wasn’t like Pat’s. And he wasn’t really mad at his father, just disappointed about not driving his own vehicle sooner. “At least I’ll have a license by the end of the week. That’s the main thing.”
“So I’ll call my sister after school and tell her to pick me up. No big deal.” Pat shrugged. “Any chance your parents will buy you a new car for your birthday?”
Javier frowned at him. “Yeah, right!”
“I know the feeling, man,” Pat replied. He sighed and picked up his script.
Javier shook his head, trying to push the lousy feeling out of his head before the live broadcast began.
“Javier! Javier, wake up. You have a phone call.”
It took a few seconds to realize his mom’s voice wasn’t part of his dream. He opened his eyes. In the light that came into his bedroom from the hall, he saw her standing in her white robe beside his bed. She carried his cell phone in her hand.
“Someone wants to talk to you at this late hour. It’s a girl.”
Immediately he was awake and reaching at the phone. He cleared his throat before he said, “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Feliz. I need help with some chemistry vocabulary words.”
“Oh! I—uh,” He stopped and sat up. “Hold on, Feliz. Please.”
“Who is it?” His mother still stood in the room, tapping an impatient rhythm with one foot. Her facial expression and messy hair only emphasized her displeasure. She looked as if she might have fallen asleep watching TV in the den, only to be suddenly awakened by Javier’s cell phone, which he obviously had forgotten there.
“Mom, it’s Pat’s sister. She has a question about chemistry,” he told her.
“Doesn’t she know it’s after midnight?” Her annoyance seemed to make her slippers clap even louder against her heels as she walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open. “And it’s a school night, remember?”
Javier turned on his lamp and rushed to the door to close it as quietly as possible. Instinctively, he sat at his desk and said, “Sorry. Now what was your question?”
“We just got done with that stupid periodic table. We’ve moved on to hippo genius and homo-something-or-other.” Her voice sounded frustrated.
“Do you mean homogeneous and heterogeneous mixtures?” Javier replied.
“Yeah. My teacher wants our own definition and examples of each mixture, so what do I say?”
“Feliz, it’s after midnight,” he said groggily.
“So? This is due as a quiz grade tomorrow. I thought you said you’d help me.”
“I can, but—”
“Okay, so I’ll wait for your call back.” And the phone call ended.
Javier sighed, turned on his computer, and went looking for his chemistry book. It took him forty-five minutes to search for and think of definitions and examples that would sound like Feliz had thought of them herself. Then he called her back.
She answered with, “Do you know the answer?” No greeting or anything.
He explained the mixtures with examples of Jell-o and chocolate chip cookies. She asked him to clarify two points and then paused a long moment. Then she said, “Thanks, Javier. I owe you one!”
Surprised and encouraged by her friendly tone, he got up the nerve to say, “Feliz, my family is having a party for my birthday on Sunday. I wanted you and Pat to come. Did he tell you about the invite?”
“No. He never tells me anything.”
“Oh. Well, can you come? It starts at four—this Sunday.” He felt he was stumbling over his own tongue. “My dad barbecues … uh, Mom bakes chocolate cake, and uh—” he stopped and thought immediately of Uncle Willie. He groaned.
“Maybe. Later!”
The abrupt end to the conversation wasn’t what he wanted, but at least he had her number in his cell phone and well, that was one step closer than before.
Ironically, homogeneous and heterogeneous mixtures were the main focus in Mrs. Alejandro’s chemistry class the next day. The guys in sixth period looked confused when she asked for common examples. When Javier presented the answer so easily, all the guys and his teacher were visibly impressed.
“How do you do that?” Andy rapped him on the back of the head with a pencil as they gathered up their books to leave the lab. “Man, it kills me how smart you are!”
Javier turned around and rubbed his head. “I just got lucky.”
Ignacio walked around the table and said, “Lucky works for women and money, Jack. You got extra brain cells or something.”
“Way more cells than the whole class put together!” Andy added.
Lately their praise made his itchy feet worse. “Really, guys, it’s not that hard.” He stepped closer and almost admitted the truth, but then he’d have to tell them he talked to Feliz last night. He didn’t want to hear teasing from Andy or get a lecture from Ignacio, and they both would say, “Didn’t you invite her to the party, Jack?”
And even though he did it, she had only given him a “Maybe.”
No, he decided as he followed his friends out the door, it’s better to look like a chemistry geek than a fool.