Now, he even has my mom thinking it. My dad had insisted so much on it that he had convinced her of the supposed theft. Before the hose business, Benjamin's parents were best friends with my own. In fact, I used to go to all of Benjamin's birthday parties and him to mine. We were friends as much as two children could be. He used to call me Zuri, and I used to love saying his long name. Our parents thought it was cute the way we shared our toys with one another and shared candy in equal parts.
Those were the days, I sigh.
My door suddenly swings open and my mom comes barreling in. She has a distressed look on her face.
"They're back," she growls.
I'm puzzled. "Who?"
"The Quintanillas."
Chapter 3
"What?" I mutter, my heart beating fast and my mouth drying up.
She steps over to my window and stealthily peeks out as if she doesn't want anyone outside to see what she's doing. "I was hoping they'd stay where they were permanently, but we're out of luck," she mumbles with a frustrated voice.
Benjamin's back!
Stumbling up from my bed, I rush to the window.
"They already got in their house," my mother informs me. I peek out anyway, and find that the Quintanilla's old jalopy of a car is parked in their driveway.
"I'd better warn your dad," she says, stepping towards my door.
I stay at my window staring out. Even though I can't see Benjamin, just knowing he's in his house fills me with fluttering butterflies.
Pathetic—I know.
But at the moment I don't care. I only care that I can see his parents' jalopy in his driveway and that his house is starting to show signs of life.
He's back, he's back, he's back, my heart beats in rhythm.
I never was able to catch even one glimpse of Benjamin during the weekend. I was disappointed beyond words. But Monday quickly sneaks in, and I'm certain I'll see him in school.
Stepping out of my little silver sports car, I look around to see if I find Benjamin's antique Mustang. His cousin had helped him rebuild it, and it’s actually a pretty awesome dark-blue car. It had been kept in the garage for the summer while he traveled with his family. I slowly survey the school parking lot we both use. Nothing. He's not in school yet.
Disappointed, I climb out. Lorena and Suzy who ride with me to school also step out of my car with jittery excitement. Neither one of them knows about my love for Benjamin. It's a secret I haven't wanted to confide to anybody. I'd rather keep my pathetic-ness to myself.
The first-day-of-school-frenetic-vibe fills the air. I go through my first classes hoping to be in a class with Benjamin, but I'm out of luck. I don't even see him between class periods. Lunch finally comes around and Lorena, Suzy, and I sit at one of the round tables in the cafeteria eating the red enchiladas served that day.
"Boy, do I have something huge to tell you," Suzy gushes excitedly to Lorena and myself.
"What is it?" Lorena asks, curious.
"It's the latest gossip going around the school! It spread like wildfire!"
I lose interest when she says gossip. I'm not that much into whispers and probably lies about others.
"It's about Benjamin Quintanilla," she states, her whole face scrunches as if telling a tantalizing secret.
My ears perk up. "What is it?" I ask, trying to sound calm.
"He quit the basketball team!"
"Nooooooooooo," Lorena murmurs, wide eyed.
"Yeah."
I roll my eyes. "It's got to be a lie. Why would the most valuable player quit?"
"It's true," Suzy insists. "The coach was freaking out about it."
"How do you know?" I inquire, still not believing it.
"I was in the main office when he walked in and was very upset and telling the office staff."
"Then you heard it straight from the horse's mouth," Lorena murmurs, her green eyes as round as saucers. "It's got to be true."
"That's what I'm saying," mumbles Suzy.
I can't deny the truth of the rumor anymore. If Suzy had heard it not from gossipy students but from the coach himself then it was probably right.
How confusing!
How totally strange!
How puzzling!
Why would Benjamin quit the basketball team? He was so good at the game. Besides, there had been talk of him getting a basketball scholarship to college. There were many people who thought he could turn pro someday.
"Why would Benjamin do such a thing?' Lorena questions. It's the million dollar question. I lean into Suzy to see if she has an answer.
She shrugs. "I don't know, but that's not the only strange thing going on with him."
"What do you mean?" I blurt, forgetting to keep my voice calm.
"He doesn't look like himself," Suzy states.
"What?" I ask.
But before she can answer my question, Benjamin steps into the cafeteria. The whole place turns museum silent.
And Suzy is right. He looks very different.
Chapter 4
Benjamin has always been very clean cut with short, medium-brown hair, a shaved face, and a freshly scrubbed look. He'd dress his tall six foot frame with meticulously pressed clothes. Once he had been approached by a modeling agency, but he had turned them down.
Today, he looks nothing like the boy from last year. His appearance is totally different.
His slightly wavy hair has grown out over his collar. His face has a light stubble to it. He wears old jeans and a black T-Shirt that says Mexico in large silver letters. While he isn't dirty sloppy, but a chic kind of sloppy, he in no way resembles his former meticulous self.
"What happened to Benjamin?" asks Lorena in a whisper. It's my question exactly.
As Benjamin steps in line to get his food, the buzzing around the cafeteria starts again, but when he sits with his friend Peebo instead of his girlfriend Chantilly, the cafeteria grows silent again.
"That's the other rumor going around," states Suzy. "I guess it's true."
"What is?" I question with full curiosity.
"He not only quit the basketball team, but he broke up with Chantilly."
I glance at Chantilly who looks positively grief stricken. Her usual bouncy yellow-blond hair, ocean-blue eyes, and designer clad body seem all opaque today instead of full of the bright rays of limelight. Even with her being completely full of herself, she being the head cheerleader and all, I feel sorry for her at the moment because she seems about ready to burst out sobbing.
"That's so sad," Lorena mutters unhappily. She, along with many students, considers Benjamin and Chantilly the golden couple—the dream to aspire to. They seemed so far above us mere mortals.
"Yeah, tragic," murmurs Suzy. "Which couple will we look up to now?"
"Maybe they'll get back together," Lorena says, her voice full of hope.
"Everything is possible," I state.
It didn't occur to me to be happy about Benjamin no longer having a girlfriend. In the first place, I feel bad for Chantilly and in the second place, I have about as much chance at catching his eye as winning the Miss Universe contest.
After lunch, I go to my next class—Social Studies. It's a subject I'm really looking forward to. My Aunt Letty has been all over the world and has told me many stories. Cultures are fascinating. People are interesting. The teacher who teaches it, Ms. Brizz, is eccentric, and the students love her. I'm lucky that with so many wanting to take her class, I was one of the fortunate ones to get in.
I anxiously wait for the class to start. The door swings open just before the bell rings.
Surprise! Surprise!!
It's BENJAMIN!!!
I scold my heart, telling it to behave itself. I mean if the guy was good-looking before when he was clean-cut, he's positively WOW now with his slightly scruffy look. I'm sure I'm not the only girl thinking it.
He steps in with Peebo. They've been friend
s ever since Benjamin's parents had represented his mother in a lawsuit. Mrs. Washington had sued her employers for discrimination. The company hired very few African-Americans and Latinos. The ones they did hire were treated very badly and had to put up with slimy ethnic jokes. The Quintanillas had won the lawsuit for the Washingtons, and Peebo and Benjamin had become fast friends.
With Benjamin having been in the basketball team and Peebo not sports inclined at all, many student believed their friendship to be odd. Peebo is a nerd computer genius and Benjamin is far from being that kind of a technology geek, but their friendship seems to work very well.
My heart nearly stops as both boys step over to the two empty chairs on the row to my right and plop down. Benjamin is right next to me!
"Hi," he greets, smiling at me. He's always been the epitome of politeness.
"Hi, Zuria," Peebo says from behind Benjamin. "Can you tell Crazy Aunt Letty that my schedule is free, and I can help her if she needs me?"
"Sure," I murmur.
Everybody calls my aunt Crazy Aunt Letty. A neighbor who has since moved out of the neighborhood called her crazy because she's never been married nor had kids and she traipsed the globe teaching English literature and ESL. She told the jerk that she'd rather be crazy than supposedly sane and living out someone else's version of what her life should be.
"I'm Crazy Aunt Letty!" she had declared. "And don't you forget it!"
The name stuck. She had come up with it herself, so it didn't bother her when everyone started calling her that out of affection. She tutored at-risk students for free and even got them help for what she couldn't teach them like with computers. I guess Peebo would be helping her help others.
For the rest of the period, I sweat. I can't help it. Having Benjamin so near me is nerve-wracking. I love being in the same class with him, but why couldn't he have sat somewhere else?
After school, I call my mom and tell her I'll be going to my Aunt Letty's house to deliver a message. I can do it by phone, but I haven't seen her in a few days and miss her.
"Tell Leticia that I'll be going to her house tomorrow," my mom says. She adores her older sister and like me can't stay away from her for long.
Aunt Letty is kind of a curmudgeon if you don't know her well. She's always clear about what she says, very confident, and very wise. Her straightforwardness, though, puts off certain people. She never minces words, and calls people on their B.S. no matter who they are. That's just the way she is. Once she had told a political candidate that he wasn't fooling her with his nonsense. Then she went on to tell the town hall meeting filled with would be voters step by step why the candidate was full of it. The newspapers had printed her word by word in quotes, and he had had to step down.
Aunt Letty never holds back when she feels it's necessary, and never allows herself to be beaten down by bullies who are under the delusion that they can outsmart her. I've never seen anyone do it. Anyone who can exchange contrary words with her and win. She just knows too much.
She had retired early about six months ago and had chosen El Paso to live to my mom's and my great relief. Other family members were angling for her to move into their neighborhoods in other parts of El Paso or other parts of the country. Aunt Letty with her austere and rough personality inspires calmness in those around her. She never panics and radiates a certain peaceful type of comforting presence. People feel safe around her. Her tutees and their families are fully devoted to her. I mean, the lady rarely lifts a finger to take care of her yard or other such things because her tutees and their parents can't do enough for her. Since she teaches them for free, her subjects want to reward her.
As my Aunt Letty opens the door to her house, I smile at her. "Come in, Zuria, come in," she says as she ushers me in. She's wearing her standard uniform of a long plain jean skirt, a black T-shirt, no make up, her slightly graying hair in a braid that almost reaches to her waist, and black sandals. She actually looks a lot younger than her fifty-two years with her mischievous type of face. People forget how very pretty she actually is. It's easy to completely overlook it when her amazing intelligence and street smarts radiate out of every single one of her pores. A person wants to be listening to her much more than looking at her. Her inner charisma taking much more space than her beauty.
"Aunt Letty, before I forget, Peebo Washington told me to tell you that he can help you with anything you need."
"Great!" She leads me to her kitchen which has a platter of chiles rellenos sitting in the middle of the table. "Eat with me, Zuria. Mrs. Salinas just brought them to me."
I smile, wondering how long it's been since she had to cook. The parents of her tutees are always attentive to her needs as she is attentive to theirs. My Aunt Letty has a special way of making the most complicated simple. Her students love her methods.
"Sit down, Zuria," she commands. I obey, plopping down on one of her comfortable chairs. The table and the chairs have a distinctively Mexican design with colorful fruit and vegetables carved and painted in the wood. Her whole house is like that—with artistic Mexican design all over. On the outside of her casa, it's painted a soft lilac. Yes, lilac. On the inside, her different walls have a variety of pretty colors. Soft colors of yellow, green, and of course lilac—her favorite color and mine. Her porcelain figurines are of beautiful women dressed in the various traditional dresses of Mexican states. Hanging from her walls are paintings she's collected from emerging Mexican painters with traditional Mexican scenes. The only place that's not strictly decorated in Mexican motif is her study where she keeps things she's collected from her traipse around the globe. There you will find beautiful objects from all over the earth.
Aunt Letty hands me a plate, tableware, and then a glass. She sits next to me where she already is set up to eat. I must've interrupted her meal when I had knocked on her door.
As I serve myself a few stuffed peppers, she eyes me intently. I wait for what she's about to tell me.
"How was your first day at school, Zuria?"
"Good."
"Did you see that boy Benjamin Quintanilla?" she inquires nonchalantly as if it's the most natural question in the world.
Chapter 5
I accidentally drop the chile relleno. Luckily, it falls to my plate and not the table. "Yes," I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as her. "Why do you ask?"
"He was here yesterday with Peebo."
"Really?" I mutter. I hope she doesn't realize how discombobulated I am.
"You like him, don't you, Zuria?"
My fork falls to my plate, causing a clattering sound. "Why would you say that?"
"Just a hunch. I've seen a certain sparkle in your eye when I've been at your house and he's outside of his."
Aunt Letty, I barely know the guy," I rush. How could she have guessed my deepest, most embarrassing secret?
She eyes me with a frown. "He's your next door neighbor."
"Our parents hate each other."
Aunt Letty rolls her eyes. "It's their nonsense—not yours. Not Benjamin's."
"Nonsense or not, it's the way it is," I blurt. "What was he doing here with Peebo?" I'm trying desperately to change the subject.
"They were volunteering to help my tutees."
"That was nice of them."
"The only problem was that they still didn't know what their schedule would be like."
"I guess that's why Peebo had me give you that message."
She nods. "Probably."
"I'm sure he'll be of a lot of help with computers. The guy is a huge braniac."
"Benjamin will also be of a lot of help."
"Mom and dad are going to be upset if they find out you let him in your house and that you're letting him work with you."
Aunt Letty eyes me with the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me stare. "Why should I care what your parents think? I'm not going to let their nonsense affect me," she states matter-of-factly.<
br />
"Aunt Letty, you just don't understand how deep their animosity goes with the Quintanillas."
She smirks "If a road is messed up, I generally take another one. And if people try to tell me that the first road's not messed up, I trust my own eyes."
"Okay, as long as you know what you're in for,"
She shrugs as if not worried at all. "Whatever." Then she casually changes the subject. "Benjamin was looking at the pictures on the end tables," she states, eyeing me carefully. Aunt Letty has always kept pictures of the family. She said it kept her less homesick in her travels. "Especially the picture of you," she emphasizes.
I frown. That picture was taken a year ago and not one of my best. My mom had taken it while I was running down the stairs and had sent it to Aunt Letty. "That's an awful picture of me."
"Benjamin didn't seem to think so," she states matter-of-factly. "He thought you were pretty in it."
"He did?!" I ask incredulously, blushing furiously.
"He sure did. He said the two of you used to play when you were kids. He said he used to call you Zuri."
He remembers? Surprise! Surprise!
"It's amazing that he remembers that stuff," I state.
"I like him," asserts Aunt Letty. "He's a nice young man."
"He quit the basketball team and changed his appearance," I blurt. "Did he tell you why?"
"Yes," she says smugly.
"Well, why?" I question, trying to get the information out of her. For some reason, people feel very comfortable confiding their secrets to her. Maybe it's because she's not judgmental, she listens carefully, and she gives excellent advice when necessary. She's also like a tomb with secrets. "Why did he change his life so much?"
"I'm not going to tell you," she states.
"Why not? Did he tell you not to tell anyone?"
"No, but I'm not going to spill the beans."
My eyebrows scrunch together in frustration. "Why not?"
Her steely eyes sit on my face. "You should ask him yourself."
"But, Aunt Letty, I never talk to him," I blurt with exasperation.
"Maybe you should talk to him."