She’s gone. I’m working the stand alone. It is weird. It is sad. It is lonely.
There are no customers and I have a couple calls I need to make. So I pull out my phone.
First off is Bashir.
It’s great to hear that dude’s voice. He seems happy to hear from me. They moved him up to a host position at 13 Coins. He’s in his last semester at Highline Community. He catches me up on stuff about his family.
I tell Bashir about life in New Mexico. And that I won’t be seeing him in the fall.
He loves it that I’m helping out my brother.
“Bashir, I called to tell you that you saved me. I was drowning and I needed a tutor—a good one. And you helped me get over a major hump and helped me believe I could do it. I just wanted to say thanks. And I miss you, man.”
Bashir says he had a great time tutoring. And he wishes me all the luck.
The next one is hard.
It’s been a couple days—okay, a few days—since Caleb sent me the When are you coming home? texts and voice mails.
First off, I tell him I love him. And I thank him for everything.
“You sound like you’re not coming home.” That is not a happy sentence. “What the hell, T? You get married? You’re just a kid!”
“I didn’t get married, Caleb. I have to stay down here this year.”
I tell him about Xochitl. About how we sent her off to the tour. About how Manny needs me. I thank Caleb for being an amazing friend. And I thank him for believing we could succeed from the very beginning. “If I get into college, if I graduate, if I become an architect someday, I’ve got you to thank.”
We make plans for Christmas. Plans to talk on a regular basis. Academic check-ins. Caleb says I’m still part of the AVID gang and he’s going to see if Ms. Hays will let me Skype in for Socratic Seminar and tutorial sometimes.
I tell him that would be cool.
And I tell him to thank his parents. For everything.
Then Caleb says, “We were going nowhere fast. Together. Then we decided to be better. And life pulled us apart. Maybe for a long time.”
“Just a year, Caleb.”
“I don’t know where I’m going to college,” he says. “Might not be here.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, T. Maybe I need something new. We’ll see.”
“Yeah, Caleb. We’ll see. Wherever it is, you’re still my brother.”
“You’re still my brother.”
“Talk tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
I pocket my phone. And I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“Hey, T.”
It’s Manny. He’s sporting a brand-new baseball glove. He’s got one for me, too.
“Where’d you get these?”
“I went shopping.”
We step outside and Manny throws me the ball.
It SNAPS! as it hits my glove. I throw the ball back.
SNAP! Manny pulls the ball from his glove and points to the sky. He throws me a pop-up. “You sure about all this, T?”
“About staying in New Mexico?” I catch it and pop one back. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I’m gonna need some help with physics.”
“Physics? What is that?”
“It’s a thing you’re gonna teach me because you aced it in high school.”
“Oh. And when exactly is this going to happen?”
“Tomorrow. Seven a.m. In the chile stand. And every other day.”
“I’ll do my best, T. But I might be a little rusty. And a little asleep.”
“That’s okay. I might cry. Because I miss somebody.”
“Damn, T. I feel so guilty.”
He’s not joking. I can see it on his face.
“This is a guilt-free zone,” I say. “Got that, mister? All you have to do is teach me physics. And wipe my tears. And throw me that ball.”
Manny throws me the ball.
I catch it and throw it back.
Manny catches. Manny throws.
I catch.
I thought I stayed here so Xochitl could chase her dream.
I throw.
Manny catches. Manny throws.
And I thought I stayed to help my brother.
I catch.
But maybe I stayed in New Mexico for this.
I throw.
Manny catches. Manny throws.
Me and my brother, making up for too much lost time.
I catch. I throw.
Manny catches. Manny throws.…
WED SEP 2 8:38 P.M.
T: Make it home ok?
Wendy: Yeah. I miss you bad, Teodoro.
T: I miss you worse.
T: Wendy, will you go to prom
with me next spring?
Wendy: Wait. I’ll go ask my mom. ☺
T: HA! Tell her I still have her twenty
bucks! No way she can say no.
Wendy: Huh?
T: Nothing. Will you go to prom
with me?
Wendy: In New Mexico?
T: I was thinking of Puget. But we
could do prom down here too.
Wendy: And Skyview High. Gotta do the
’Couve!
T: That’s a lot of proms, Wendy.
Wendy: It’s not that many proms. While
we’re at it, I think we should
go for the all-time proms record.
T: How many?
Wendy: 47 proms. Set by a couple from
Louielexnoxingtonsville, Kentucky, if
I’m not mistaken. 1985, I believe
it was.
T: It’s awesome knowing you will
forever have information like
that at the ready.
Wendy: Aw, you always say just the right
thing, Avila.
T: Let’s make this happen, Martinez.
It’s gonna take a lot of planning.
A lot of airfare. A lot of understanding
high schools.
Wendy: A lot of deodorant and gallons of
mouthwash.
Wendy: But I think we can do it.
T: Wendy? Will you go to 48 proms
with me?
Wendy: Oh my God, Teodoro, I thought
you’d never ask.
T: I love you.
Wendy: I love, love you.
T: Oh, hell. This is serious now.
Wendy: Yes it is.
T: Good. I love, love you, too, Wendy
Martinez.