by Sara Alva
“Alejandro, I need to speak with you.”
Everyone else dashed out of the room, before she could find some offense they’d committed as well.
“Yes, teacher?”
“Flip-flops in class?” She raised her eyebrows menacingly. “You know that’s not appropriate foot wear for school. If there were an emergency—an earthquake or something—you would not be able to move quickly and safely.”
We’d had to rush for gun lockdowns much more than for earthquakes, but she’d never bring that up.
“Sorry, teacher. I know I need new shoes, but I haven’t gotten them yet.”
“And just what is that you’ve been wearing on your arm? Some kind of gang fashion statement?”
I glanced over at my paper-towel bandage and held back a snort of laughter. What kind of gang would be that stupid?
“No, ma’am. I just got a little…cut…and we ran out of Band-Aids.”
Her eyes narrowed, like a predator picking up some kind of scent.
“Let me see. You might need to go to the nurse to get it cleaned up.”
Fuck!
“No, teacher, it’s okay. I promise.”
“Alejandro.” She tsked, opening her desk drawer to get out an office referral slip. “Take it off right now, and I’m writing you a pass to the nurse for a proper bandage.”
Heaving a sigh, I carefully put my finger under the tape and ripped the paper away.
I heard her sharp intake of breath, and immediately knew I was in for trouble.
“That’s a burn, Alejandro!”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, how did you get it?”
Damn. Story time.
An image of Juanita Romero flashed into my mind. Everyone in second grade had called her la monstrua because of the strange, thickly puckered scars on her body. Turned out they were caused by burns, from when her abuela had spilled some boiling soup on her. I’d teased her that year, like all the rest, but at the moment, I might’ve called her mi salvador.
“Soup,” I said with complete confidence. “I spilled some soup on myself.”
But predator-Ms. Elridge one-upped me on that one right away. “What kind of soup?”
What kind of soup? Jesus, I didn’t know. My mom didn’t make soup. I didn’t like to eat soup. What kind of soup would a normal family be making? Did different soups make different kinds of burns?
And why was I taking so damn long to answer?
“Um…ch-chicken soup.”
Ms. Elridge’s eyes were narrowing into slits, and her brows were so furrowed they were going to meet in the middle. “Alejandro…did someone in your family do this to you?”
And that was when I made my biggest mistake.
Both palms instinctively made fists, and the tension in my injured arm aggravated the wound once again, sending sparks of pain to cloud my thoughts. “Just because that fuck-up lives with my mom don’t make him family!”
I did not get reprimanded for my outburst. Instead, Ms. Elridge’s pen started scribbling furiously on her referral slip, and she stood seconds later.
“Go to the nurse,” she ordered, and I didn’t stick around to ask questions. I left immediately, crumpling up the referral and heading off to class instead.
But Ms. Elridge left the room right after me, her heels clip-clopping straight for the office…and I just knew the bitch was up to no good.
Chapter 3: Keep Your Mouth Shut
“Man!” José greeted me outside our last period. He had less gel in his hair than normal, and it made him look softer…more like the kid I’d known when we were younger and less like a wannabe cholo. “Ey, you fucking scored last night!”
Suddenly longing for simpler times, I barely gave him a nod. “Mhm.”
“You gotta give me some pointers or something. The girls are fuckin’ all over you.”
If I could have, I’d have happily turned over all the attention I received, but sadly the only real advice I could give him would be to grow a few inches taller.
“Yeah, man. You just gotta act cool about it…like you don’t want ’em.” At least that wasn’t too far off base, in my experience.
We strutted in, and the moment I took my seat, Blanca whirled around to bat her dark lashes at me. I wondered when she’d had the chance to put on so much makeup—she must’ve had it in her backpack or something. I rarely saw her without the perfectly drawn eyebrows and glossy lips.
While Mr. Ricks droned on about x and its values, I offered Blanca a cocky half-smile, dredging up brief glimpses of the night before.
I remembered her pushing me down on the mattress, and then forcefully undressing me. I might’ve tried to do the same to her, but I’m pretty sure I needed some help. Beyond that, I recalled her inviting smile, and the way she’d rubbed my bare chest with those tiny but surprisingly strong hands—hard enough that it was almost painful.
She’d definitely been in control. Of course she wasn’t a virgin.
Rosa—the girl who sat one row up and over—passed me a folded piece of paper. I didn’t have to look at Blanca’s wink to know it was from her.
Let’s have fun this weekend.
I closed my eyes, slouching in my chair so Mr. Ricks wouldn’t yell at me for sleeping in class.
What would it be like, if I really could have fun with her? Maybe I could learn to like her a little more…and maybe being sober would help. Of course, my first awkward attempts at sex had been sober ones, but maybe now that I had a clue about how things worked I wouldn’t be such a fucking wreck.
I tried to imagine myself smiling up at her as she mounted me, and actually meaning it. Imagine her fingers sliding over my chest in slow, gentle circles…then gradually traveling downwards…
But damn it if those fingers didn’t turn into Diego’s the moment I let my guard down.
A loud knock collapsed my daydream. My hands instantly curled around the bottom of the plastic chair, heart pounding out a responsive rhythm…like I knew it was for me before the door even opened.
Mr. Ricks greeted a plump woman in a tired-looking gray suit and a cop, and the three of them spoke quickly in hushed voices.
“Alejandro Alvarez?”
My mouth went dry. A fucking cop needed to see me? Could someone have ratted me out for the occasional drug deal? Jesus…I was so small time I hardly deserved an arrest on school grounds, right?
“Alejandro?”
Stomach sinking, I stood and walked to the front of the class. “Yeah?”
“Get your belongings.” Mr. Ricks’ eyes darted about worriedly.
I backtracked and grabbed my stuff, giving José a nervous glance and not receiving any comfort from his rapid, fearful blinks. “’kay, see you tomorrow, Mr. Ricks.”
He tilted his head and avoided my gaze. “Goodbye, Alejandro.”
The woman in the gray suit moved in without hesitation, hovering around me like some kind of color-sapped bee. “Alejandro, my name is Suzie. We’d just like to speak to you for a moment, in the front office, if that’s okay.”
The cop may have distracted me at first, but when no one slapped on cuffs and the adrenaline began to wear off, I suddenly realized there was another dangerous force at work here—Suzie practically smelled of social worker.
Reacting on instinct, I threw up my defenses. “I gotta lot of homework, lady. I can’t stay too late.”
The cop crossed his arms, a silent witness to her annoyingly calm voice.
“Well, let’s just settle in the office and see if we can’t clear things up.”
We entered the conference room together, and I sat stiffly in a little chair, reminding myself over and over again that I just had to keep my mouth shut. The school psychologist was also there, but I decided to ignore her since we’d never actually met. I was a little screwed up, I knew, but not bad enough to need her services.
She seemed satisfied with my choice as she folded her hands over her skirt and relaxed in her chair. She was obviously only there to o
bserve…what could very well be my destruction.
Before Ms. Suzie Social Worker could even get out a word, the nurse bustled into the room in her gigantic flower muumuu and white overcoat.
“Let me see da burn, hun,” she said in her thick Nigerian accent.
“It’s nothing.” I tucked my arm behind my back. “I spilled soup. Chicken soup.”
The cop and the social worker exchanged glances. The kind of knowing glance that said, oh boy, do we ever know he’s lying.
God damn it.
How could I possibly have been so stupid as to slip up in front of Ms. Elridge? It had to be because I was hung over. I refused to believe that after fifteen years of managing my life perfectly fine, I’d let one lousy teacher get the better of me for no apparent reason.
The social worker rifled through some papers in a manila folder. “You and your mother live with a man named Hector Ramirez, correct?”
“So what?” I shot back.
“Did someone at home cause those burns?”
I felt my nostrils flare, so I shook my head violently to cover it up. “Nope. No. It was an accident. Why’re you asking about Hector? Ms. Elridge said something? She’s fu—…she’s nuts. She’s just pissed ’cause I’m wearing flip-flops…and talking about this girl’s virginity in class…” And Jesus Christ, what had happened to keeping my mouth shut?
Suzie reached out to squeeze my hand. I let her keep her fingers there for a second—only because I was in shock—before pulling away. “Alejandro, you can tell us the truth. If someone is hurting you, you should not have to put up with it. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”
Who was this lady? How did she know what I did and didn’t deserve? In all fairness, I was the one who’d stolen the weed. He’d had a right to beat the shit out of me…just why hadn’t he done it in a way that left no visible marks?
“No, really, it was my fault. I was being stupid.” That was true enough, and thank God I was getting a little shorter with my responses.
The nurse grabbed my arm, clucking softly. “Boy, I don tink dat’s from soup.”
Holy fuck, how did she know? The woman could barely speak English, but she knew what soup burns looked like? Or maybe she was bluffing…and I’d just fucking given myself away with my shocked expression.
I straightened my gaze into one of indifference, which rapidly changed back to annoyance the moment she whipped out a camera and snapped a picture.
“What the—”
“For da records.” She cut me off. Then she grabbed me by my upper arm to steer me toward her office. I went willingly—figured I was safer with her than with a cop and a social worker.
“Dis is gonna hurt a little,” she remarked, placing my wrist under a faucet.
The cold water burned, and I took the opportunity to shout, “Fuck!” since I knew it’d be excusable.
Afterwards, she very gently applied some lotion, which also hurt like hell, and wrapped my wrist loosely in gauze.
Damn gauze. If I’d had that in the first place, I probably wouldn’t have been in this fucked-up situation.
I was about to beg the nurse to let me slip off to my locker, but Suzie appeared behind me, putting an arm on my shoulder and speaking in a maddeningly soft voice as she led me back to the conference room.
“Has anything like this happened before?”
My pulse picked up—she’d gone from the questioning phase to the assuming phase. Not a good sign.
“No. Nothing ever happens.” I twisted away from her and sank back into a chair.
“Alejandro—”
“My name is Alex, lady.”
I knew I wasn’t supposed to call women “lady” in that tone of voice…especially not the women at school. But I was angry, and my tongue got the better of me. If the cops so much as breathed a word about this to my mom, she’d probably never speak to me again. She trusted me to keep her life free of things she couldn’t handle.
“Alex, you know it’s the school’s job to report issues of abuse to DCFS…and it’s our job to make sure you have a safe home environment.”
“Yeah, well there’s nothing wrong with my home environment. Now can I go? My mom’s gonna be worried if I don’t get home.” I wasn’t sure when I’d last seen my mom truly worried about me, but that was what these people would want to hear.
Suzie sat back, crossing her thick legs and exchanging another look with the silent cop.
“Alej…Alex, if your home is unsafe, we can’t let you go back at the moment. Now, we’ve been unable to reach your mother, and DCFS has to investigate before we can release you.”
My jaw dropped. “Release me? Are you fucking kidding me?” Again, no one made a comment on my cursing…and if I hadn’t been so overwhelmed, I would have realized what a bad sign that was.
“Well, do you have any other numbers where we could contact her?”
I tried to decide what the better plan of action was—providing a way to get in contact with my mom, or making it as difficult as possible to reach her.
“A working cell number, perhaps? The one listed on your emergency card seems to be out of service.”
Then I remembered I really didn’t have a way of reaching my mom, even if I’d wanted to. “Nope. She didn’t pay for minutes this month.”
“Well, could we possibly contact her at work?”
“She lost her last job.”
“Could she be at a friend’s house?”
“No idea.”
Suzie exhaled slowly. Did she think I was being an ass on purpose? I wasn’t, really, but I didn’t mind the side effect.
“Alex, we do need to speak to her and Hector before we—”
I stood abruptly. I didn’t want her to finish the sentence. This whole…interrogation…needed to be over. It needed to be over now.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cop make a move for the door, like he was going to block me by force if he had to.
“Lady, I have to go home. There’s nothing wrong in my house, I swear.”
“This isn’t the first time teachers have been concerned about your well-being, Alex.” She gazed at me steadily, and for just a split second I got the feeling she might know more about my life than I was willing to admit…even to myself. “Nothing final is happening right now. Like I said, DCFS needs to investigate. Legally, we can’t send you home right now.”
Legally…can’t…send home.
My brain processed the words in slow motion. They weren’t going to let me go home. Not today, not tonight…maybe not ever.
I’d seen this happen before. Everyone around here had. But that was for kids whose parents were fucking crack addicts, for kids who went to school with their hair matted and their clothes stinking and torn…or for little girls who got molested. Not for me. Not for one little screw-up.
I glanced up at the large clock on the wall. The red second hand ticked, and then a bell sounded. End of the school day. End of the week, for that matter. Time to go home and recharge…maybe get into a little trouble here and there…have a little fun.
I remembered Blanca’s note then. What would she say if I didn’t go home this afternoon? I figured she was waiting for me, by my locker maybe, or outside the school. She’d want to know why I’d been marched out of class, escorted by a cop.
Maybe getting in trouble with the law could buy me a little street cred? She’d probably find me even sexier now. She seemed like that kind of girl.
And shit, I could handle her. Use her for a little while, then dump her. That should bump me up the social ladder, and buy me some more time to…to…
To what?
“Alex, do you understand?”
Suzie blinked at me. She didn’t have dark, curly mascaraed lashes like Blanca or my mom. She had on very little makeup, in fact. Not that it looked terrible. I thought the girls around here wore too much makeup.
“Alex…you’re going to have to come with me.”
My eyes went back to the clock. The
second hand was where I’d last seen it, so a minute must have gone by.
And I was still in the conference room. Still facing a short white woman who said I couldn’t go back to my life right now.
“I…I need to go home.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. We have to—”
Some part of me knew it was pointless, but I burst out of the office anyway. I wanted no part of what they were saying…well, of what Suzie was saying, since the other two fuckers were only watching. Watching me unravel.
I headed for my locker. In hindsight, I probably should have headed straight for the door, but certain habits were hard to break. I needed my science notebook for a homework assignment I probably wouldn’t do, and I needed to get rid of the heavy social studies text currently in my bag. I always went to my locker after last period. To my locker, and then home.
After a few seconds, I noticed the cop trailing behind me. I sped up, cursing the fact that no one could run well in flip-flops.
I expected him to grab me, or order me to the floor or something, but he just followed from a few feet away. Maybe he was letting me waste my energy, since he knew full well I wouldn’t be making it out of there.
I almost ran into José as he was packing up by his locker for the weekend. When he saw the cop on my tail, his eyes went wide—saucers of white in his round dark face. I knew his next move would be to cut and run.
“José,” I shouted, and now the cop did reach out and grasp my shoulder.
José gave me a look like holy shit, whatever you do, keep your mouth shut.
“Tell my mom I didn’t say nothing, okay? Tell her I didn’t say nothing!”
That was all I could get out before the cop dragged me away.
Chapter 4: In an Instant
I waited in the office for almost an hour, while Suzie made arrangements. Then she and the cop put me in the backseat of her car. Once she’d pulled away from the school, she flipped on the child locks—as if there were any way I was suddenly going to open the door and roll out onto the 105 freeway.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To a group home.” Suzie spoke softly again—white women didn’t seem to raise their voices that much, but she was unusually quiet. “Just until we can contact your mother and find out what the situation is.”
