The F Factor

by Diane Gonzales Bertrand

  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 g
ot 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.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fifteen didn’t feel any different from sixteen when Javier woke up on his birthday. Even the smell of waffles, an Ávila birthday tradition, seemed more familiar than special. When he walked into the kitchen, his mother stood at the counter checking the steaming waffle iron. She wore a colorful blouse and dark skirt for work. His father sat drinking coffee at his usual spot. He wore his denim work clothes like any other morning.

  “Happy birthday, Javito!” his mother exclaimed before she gave him a tight hug. “My baby is sixteen! Sixteen!” Then she held him at arms’ length and smiled into his face. “Marc, can you believe our baby is sixteen?”

  “In some countries, a boy can buy his own goats at sixteen,” his father commented, slowly standing. “Perhaps I should arrange a marriage with the father of that girl who likes to call our son at midnight! But only if her father has the right number of cows and chickens for her dowry.”

  “Very funny!” Javier replied before he walked into that affectionate embrace his father easily gave away to everyone he loved. Their hug felt tight and real. Then his father clapped him across the back and let him go.

  Javier felt inspired as he said, “Dad, if you’re going to negotiate for livestock, shouldn’t you get me a horse I can ride to school?”

  “You’re getting as clever as your old man.” His father laughed. “Watch out!”

  “Sit down for breakfast, Javier. Your dad is going to drop you off at school today so you don’t have to rush for the bus.”

  Javier nodded, his parents did the same thing last year. He had even told the bus driver that he wouldn’t be waiting Friday morning.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to school,” Javier said after he took a couple of bites from the delicious waffles his mother had baked. “Why can’t it be a holiday?”

  “But today is the pep rally. That’ll be fun!” his mom said as she sat down with a plate at the table. She reached for the syrup bottle as she said, “I’ll pick you up on time, okay? I promise! Then we’ll go over to the DPS office like you want.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Getting my permanent license is the only thing I really want for my birthday,” he said, hoping sixteen would feel different from fifteen once that license was in his hands. He ate a few more bites as he had turned over a question in his head. “Do you think that I can borrow your car and drive to the game by myself?”

  He looked up from his plate to see his mom and dad exchanging a private message in the way their eyes locked together and their eyebrows raised. He assumed mental telepathy developed as a couple’s sixth sense; something about living together for over thirty years!

  “Is the game at the school?” his mother asked, looking back at her son.

  “We’re playing at Alamo Stadium,” Javier said. “I’ll just drive down Hildebrand to get there, Mom. There’s not as much traffic as downtown, and I won’t get lost because it’s the same way we drive to Uncle Willie’s house.” After living with his parents for sixteen years, he had to learn how to read minds too. He knew exactly what their concerns would be, and he had already planned what to say. How could they say no?

  “Let’s take it one day at a time. License first, then we’ll talk about my car,” his mom said. “It’s not even Saturday yet. I might need my car to shop for your party.”

  “Okay,” he sighed. Reading his parents’ minds was never as easy as he hoped.

  “Good morning. I’m Javier Ávila, and these are today’s announcements.”

  After two weeks of speaking to the camera, he didn’t feel like his face was concrete or that he acted like an eight-year-old trying to read a hard word in a dictionary. He had learned a lot about his own presentation watching the replays, and as his confidence grew, so did his creativity.

  “Mr. Seneca, wouldn’t it be interesting if we did the Spanish club announcements in Spanish?” he had said Wednesday during afternoon practice.

  The teacher had merely raised an eyebrow. “Your translation had better be perfect, or Mr. Montejano will be in here using two languages to yell at you!”

  Javier not only translated the Spanish club announcement, but also let his parents proofread it and practiced it with them a dozen times the night before. He had to deliver it perfectly. After the broadcast, students in the class, random students in the hallway, and all of Javier’s teachers complimented him—especially Mr. Montejano.

  Meanwhile, Pat’s backdrop was a sensational hit. Pat’s enthusiasm in front of the camera was also the source of many compliments, especially from so many who were surprised he could be so entertaining with his ad-libs between announcements.

  “Man, if Javier and Pat keep it up, the rest of us are going to look like dopes on TV,” Dylan Romo had announced after the broadcast on Thursday morning.

  “They just set the bar very high,” Mr. Seneca replied as he set up the tape for the replay and discussion that usually followed every broadcast. “All of you guys need to work hard to reach it.”

  So, on Friday morning, Javier’s self-confidence was strong as he and Pat smoothly delivered the announcements. As they were reaching the end, Javier felt an unexpected thrill when Pat reminded students of the three-day weekend ahead. Javier’s sudden grin was inspired by his plans to get his license, but to the students watching the broadcast it appeared he seemed very excited to tell them, “Mr. Henley needs all band members to remain after today’s pep rally for a mandatory meeting in the band hall.”

  Pat added, “Because of last week’s medical emergency—and by the way, everybody in the school is happy that Kenny García’s uncle is going to be released from the hospital on Monday—we all know that no one saw the band’s half-time show. One member of the drumline bragged to me just yesterday that this week’s show is guaranteed to give us twice the entertainment. Ha ha, no pressure!”

  Javier started chuckling but quickly tried to swallow it. He rolled his lips inside his mouth to hold back the urge to keep laughing. Pat had moved on to the last two announcements about soccer practice and the cafeteria menu, but when Pat said, “Hey, students, it’s chili-bean burritos on the menu today! And a special happy birthday wish goes out to our cafeteria manager, Mrs. Burrito—uh! Burriola! Mrs. Burriola, I mean!”

  Mrs. Burrito? Javier started laughing again. He wanted to breathe normally, but a cough-laugh sound escaped, and he couldn’t stop the giggling sound that followed. Pat made the mistake of looking at his partner with an amused grin. It made Javier feel as if a whiff of laughing gas had made him high and crazy. When Pat cracked up with laughter, too, Javier’s condition only got worse.

  Desperately, Pat nudged him with his elbow and said, “Man, you’re killing me here! Cut it out!” That’s when every guy in the class caught the bug and started chuckling and giggling. Mr. Seneca tried to look stern, but his face reddened. He twisted his lips like a deranged scarecrow, struggling against the natural urge to laugh out loud.

  “Okay, okay, I can do this!” Javier said, gasping between words. He turned his watery eyes toward the camera to say, “This is Javier … no wait … ” He paused for more laughing and said, “… this is Javier Ávila … ”

  “Oh, man, this is P-P-Patricio—whatever!” Pat waved his hand like he couldn’t remember his name. He dropped his head into his arms, laughing into the top of the desk.

  Javier knew he had to salvage the s
ign-off and jumped in with, “This is Javier and Pat giving you today’s announcements … ” His voice shook like Jell-O. “And giving you some laughs too. Oh, man!” He had to wipe his eyes but quickly pushed out, “Have a … ” He paused to catch his breath, but felt helpless when his words jiggled humorously. “Have a g-gr-great weekend, G-g-guardians!”

  Then Javier pantomimed a slit across his throat, hoping Kenny, Landry, and Steve would end the broadcast quickly. In record time, Kenny yelled, “And we’re off the air!” only to break into gut-busting laughter that set off the whole room again. It was so contagious that Mr. Seneca had to sit down before his laughter knocked him off his crutches.

  Javier kept laughing at his own inability to stop laughing. He followed Pat’s example and dropped his head into his arms on top of the desk, and laughing until he thought his stomach would explode from the exertion.

  Javier finally raised his head when he heard Dylan say, “Javier, thanks for this! You two clowns make me feel so much better.” The senior football player was still wiping his face and chuckling. “Not just ‘cause you made us laugh, but because you two finally messed up. At least now the broadcast team that follows you next Tuesday won’t look too bad if they screw up too.”

  Mr. Seneca rubbed his hand across his chin, still chuckling as he said, “I guess we all needed to release a little pressure this morning.” He straightened up in his chair. “I’m not sure how today’s broadcast will sit with the administration, but we’ll just shoulder the responsibility as any team would and share the good with the bad.” He looked directly at Javier and Pat, and while he didn’t look mad, his voice was deadpan serious when he said, “If either of you do that again, you’re toast. Got it?”