When I Was Puerto Rican - Esmeralda Santiago [76]
“I can carry them myself,” I snapped.
“Aw, come on, Esmeralda,” he mumbled, standing closer.
“Don’t make me look bad.”
A group of boys leaned against the wall of the school, pretending not to watch us. Maritza and her retinue giggled near them. I had not fallen in love at first sight with Johannes Vélez, but his eyes on me felt good, and I wanted very much to give him my books to carry. But I felt as if by handing them over I would be relinquishing something more precious than my math homework, only I didn’t know what that something might be.
“You can do it tomorrow,” I said and walked off in a haze of fear and anger at my own stupidity. That night Armando and Ricardo blended into the mournful face of Johannes Vélez. I replayed our encounter, only this time I was charming, confident, able to carry on a conversation that dazzled him while Maritza and her friends watched enviously.
“Mami, what should I do if a boy wants to carry my books?” I asked the next morning.
“Let him,” she said as she flipped an egg. She went to the door, pan in hand. “Delsa, Norma, Hector, you’d better get dressed fast or you’ll be late for school.” She slid the egg on my plate. “Who wants to carry your books?”
“Johannes Vélez.”
“What kind of a name is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he American?”
“He’s from around here.”
“Who’s from around here?” Delsa asked hopping to her chair.
“Negi’s boyfriend,” Alicia said from across the table.
“He’s no such thing!” I yelled. Norma and Hector pushed each other to sit near the window.
“Stop that!” Mami hollered. She broke three eggs into the pan, “Uhmm ... Vélez.... I don’t know a Vélez family.” As if everyone in the world had to check with her before moving to town.
“There’s a Vélez in my class. Sarita Vélez. She’s a pest.” Norma turned up her nose.
“Not the same family,” I bit back, possessive all of a sudden.
“Negi has a boyfriend!” Hector sang.
“I do not!”
“Do so!” Delsa and Norma joined in the chant, and Edna and Raymond appeared out of nowhere to torture me.
“Mami, make them stop!”
“You kids leave your sister alone.”
But they just lowered their voices to a whisper when Mami turned her back. “Negi has a boyfriend!”
“Mami!” I was embarrassed by their teasing and would have bopped them on the head if Mami hadn’t been right there.
“You kids get ready for school. Scram!” They left the table one at a time, Mami taking threatening steps toward them each time they stopped to look back with mischievous expressions and a mouthed “Negi has a boyfriend.”
I was humiliated. Tears formed in my eyes, making Mami’s face look out of focus.
“If there’s a boy who likes you,” she rubbed my hair, “and you like him, ask him to visit you at home. That’s the proper thing to do.”
“It’s not like I’m getting married or anything. He just asked to carry my books.”
“I know ... But you’re casi señorita, and boys are interested. The thing is, no boy will respect you if you don’t bring him home to meet your parents.”
I should never have asked her. She had no clue about my feelings. All she cared about was the boy, not me.
“Why do you keep saying I’m casi señorita? When am I going to be a señorita, without the almost?”
“Negi, don’t take that tone of voice with me.”
“But when, Mami? You keep saying I should do this, I shouldn’t do that, I should do the other. All because I’m almost a señorita. What does that mean? What does it have to do with anything?” I heaved out sobs so full they scared me. She held me for a few minutes then sent me to my room.
“Take off your uniform before it gets wrinkled.”
“But I have to go to school,” I wailed as if she’d just given me awful news.
“You can be a little late. Lie down for a while, and I’ll send a note that you weren’t feeling well.”
I unsnapped my skirt and unbuttoned my shirt, tears streaming down my cheeks, sobs