Romiette and Julio Page 8

  “Yeah, I remember West Side Story. Our English teacher showed it to us last year when we read Romeo and Juliet. That was a good movie. I remember one gang was ‘Americans’—mostly white kids, but I think they threw a couple of black kids in there to make it look good. The other gang was Puerto Rican kids. Their leader was played by an actor who was Greek. So much for Hollywood.”

  “Reality is a lot scarier.”

  “You got that right. Romi, did you notice that our names are almost like the ones in the play, only backwards? Do you think that means something? Are we destined for doom or romance? Or is it just weird?”

  Romi grinned, glad that Julio had noticed too. “Yeah, I recognized our names. It’s impossible not to! I think it’s an awesome coincidence. Who knows what it means for us? I guess time will tell—or maybe fate.”

  “Who knows. The kids in that story both ended up dead, didn’t they? From gang wars, sort of.”

  “It was families, not gangs, in Shakespeare. Scary enough and close enough to give me chills, though.”

  “We had two rival gangs at my old school. The Ramones were all Mexican-American kids, and they hated everything that wasn’t deep-roasted in Spanish stuff. The other gang was all black kids—they called themselves the Black Daddies, and they were the ones that just appeared overnight, it seems. The Ramones got together when it looked like the Black Daddies were taking over the school. So when they had ‘gang walks’ in the halls, the Daddies would take the third floor, and the Ramones would take the second floor. Only kids that the gang approved of were safe, and no one really knew if they were on the safe list or not. Both gangs would recruit guys to fight and girls to hang with them. The girls liked the gangbangers because they always seemed to have money and cars and expensive clothes.

  “What they called ‘wars’ would start on Friday and continue through the weekend. On Monday, the winner would ‘walk’ the first floor, as a sign of dominance for the week. It was a strange system, but we understood it and it worked—until Mr. Cordero. He tried to change things, and he died. Everyone was afraid. No one was learning. No one was teaching. Kids were getting hurt, so we left. Do you think my family is chicken?”

  “No way, Julio. I can’t believe it was that bad. I hope it doesn’t get like that here. So far we only have this one gang. You’re either in it or you’re not. Most kids don’t fool with the gang kids, but those who do are mean and scary, and it seems like they only think with one giant, demented brain cell instead of having any independent thoughts at all.

  “The dudes who stopped by our table at lunch were all in the gang. They call themselves The Family or the Devildogs. All the kids in it are African-American, they all wear purple every day, and they carry heavy dog chains in their pockets. They don’t do homework, and they don’t do clubs or activities or any of the normal stuff kids do in school. They spend a lot of their time thinking up ways to intimidate other kids—like me and you today. It’s much easier to give up your table in the cafeteria than get punched and have your food pushed on the floor. I know a girl who got jumped in front of the bus stop last week. She had made the mistake of breaking up with a Devildog. She was out of school for a week healing up.”

  “Romi, why do you think they were threatening us? Me, I can understand. Why you? They’re black, you’re black. Makes no sense to me.”

  “Well, the only thing I can think of is they don’t like it ’cause you’re not black. They don’t know me very well, but they know my mom is big into African culture and I work at her store. But there’s no way I’m gonna let them tell me who I can talk to or eat lunch with! No way!

  “You know, now that I think about it, this girl came into the shop today, talking about you and me and why were eating together. I thought it was a little weird, but she was wearing purple, and I think I’ve seen her hanging around Terrell and his boys.”

  “So what do we do if they come back, Romi? There’s no way I’ll let them threaten you or hurt you.”

  “You’d protect me, Julio?”

  “With my life.”

  “Wow. Nobody’s ever told me that before! But maybe we’re jumping the gun. All we had was a couple of idiots stare at us at lunch. Nobody is talking about death threats.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch. Good night, Romi.”

  “G’night, Julio. Bring the hot sauce. We may need it.”

  Romi hung up the phone and mused about the day’s events. It was great that Julio seemed to really like her, but why all the hassle from gangbangers? Didn’t they have more important battles to fight? She fell asleep, frowning about the possibilities of the future.

  22.

  Ben and Julio

  Ben and Julio had just changed for gym class. Julio liked gym. He had a strong upper body, plus he was a fast runner. The girls in the class noticed his muscular arms on his first day of class; the guys were learning he could get the ball where it needed to be. Today they were playing volleyball—lots of noise, whacks, and an amazing amount of excitement over getting a small white ball back and forth over a net. “Hey! My man Julio! Give me a lunch report! This is better than a soap opera or a talk show,” Ben called as he ran across the gym to toss the volleyball into the basketball hoop.

  “You’re crazy, Ben. You can’t even make a basket with a volleyball,” said Julio, laughing. “Watch how it’s done!” The ball swooshed smoothly into the net just as the teacher blew the whistle to choose teams. Julio and Ben sat on a bench near the back of the gym. They let the younger kids play first since there was not much challenge playing ninth graders. They’d play in a few minutes when the juniors and seniors took the floor.

  “So, tell me, dude. What’s up with you and Romi?”

  Julio smiled as he retied his gym shoe. “Romi and I met for lunch again. She looked good—she had on this African dress with a matching scarf. She said it came from Kenya and her mom’s shop. She looked like some kind of queen or something—a queen chomping on french fries.”

  “And now we have crowned her queen. You got it bad, Julio. What did you talk about—the crown diamonds?”

  “No, stupid. We talked about puppies, and how I’d get to her house to pick one out.”

  “Ever been to her house?”

  “No, of course not! The thought of going to her house makes me jumpy. I’ve been to lots of girls’ houses, but Romi’s family has money. I know she lives in the nice part of town out beyond London Woods.”

  “Yep, and Romi’s house has a huge backyard, with trees and walkways, even. I’ve been there a couple of times. It’s really phat.”

  “She said she had deer in her yard in the morning. Cool.” The volleyball was so far out of bounds that it landed at Julio’s feet. He laughed and tossed it back to the ninth grader with ease. “Toss it the other direction, kid,” he called. “You get more points for your team that way.” The boy grinned and returned to his game.

  “So where do you live, Julio? In a dungeon?” Ben asked while he lay flat on the gym floor.

  “Almost,” answered Julio. “Our little place is a dull, gray apartment box on the other end of London Woods. Lots of people, more concrete than greenery, and more pigeons than deer. We only live a few miles apart, but what a difference a few miles of woods can make. So, are you going to do sit-ups or what?”

  “I’m inventing a new exercise. It’s called laydowns. You don’t have to move at all!”

  “You’re nuts!” Julio chuckled.

  “Don’t let where Romi lives intimidate you,” Ben continued. “Go for it!” He turned on his side then. “Must exercise all parts of the body,” he said with great seriousness. “So you got through the meal with no hassle this time?”

  “I wish! Near the end of lunch, just before the bell rang, the Devildogs came back. There were five of them this time, all dressed in the purple hoods, silently standing at our table and staring.”

  Ben sat up. “The leaders of The Family! What did they say?”

  “They didn’t say anything.
I guess they figured their silence was loud enough.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Romi and I had already planned what we would do. It worked perfectly. We kept talking and totally ignored them—acting as if they were invisible.”

  “I know that pissed them off.”

  “Yeah, it made them really mad, and it seems like they stared even louder, if that’s possible.”

  “So was that it?” Ben seemed disappointed.

  “No. Wait till you hear,” Julio replied with a mix of excitement and mystery in his voice. “Just before the bell rang, Romi pulled her portable CD player out of her book bag, turned it up as loud as it would go, we jumped up on the table, and we started dancing.”

  “You didn’t! I love it!” Ben rolled on the floor with delight.

  “Everybody,” continued Julio, “of course, turned to see what we were up to, including Mr. Prince, who headed our way from across the cafeteria. The bell rang just at that moment, we gathered our stuff, grabbed hands, and ran from the cafeteria. We were laughing so hard! Wow—that was the first time I touched her—it was like bright green electricity!”

  “You held hands? Gee, take me back to kindergarten!”

  “Your nose is starting to look normal. Want me to redecorate it again?”

  “Nah, man. Save it for The Family!” Ben declared, touching his nose and nose ring carefully. “So what happened to the Devildogs?”

  “A friend of Romi’s told her that the Devildogs were left standing by our table, looking stupid, and by the time Mr. Prince had waddled over, they had dispersed. Mr. Prince never really knew who had the nerve to dance on his lunch table. We got away clean.”

  “Righteous, man. So what happens now?”

  “Who knows? I hope they figured out we don’t want anything to do with them. Hey, we’re up to play now. Watch me serve you out!”

  “After all that exercising I just did? Give me a break!” They ran out onto the gym floor, laughing.

  23.

  Romiette and Destiny—

  Between Classes

  The bell rang for the end of sixth period. The halls, which had been silent just a few seconds before, were instantly crowded with hundreds of students trying to get to seventh bell in the five minutes allotted. Most could probably make it in three, but the two extra minutes were necessary to stop by their lockers, run to the bathroom, and talk with their friends. Instead of moving the pace along, as their teachers constantly tried to encourage them to do, they huddled in noisy, excited bunches, anxious to share the last tidbit of news or gossip, which, of course, had changed in the forty-five minutes since the last change of classes.

  Romi saw Destiny first. She was easy to spot. She was dressed in bright orange—pedal pushers, body shirt, and big-heeled shoes—and her hair was full and fluffy.

  “Destiny! Com’ere, girl. Guess what! Julio held my hand today! We were laughing and running after we left those Devildogs in the cafeteria looking stupid, and he grabbed my hand, and oh my goodness, it felt so good!”

  “My psychic powers tell me you got it bad, girl. Or you got it good. What’s up with the gangbangers? Why they sweatin’ you?”

  “Forget the gangbangers! Julio touched me!”

  “For real, girl. I see your soul mate rising out of the mist. Tell me what it felt like when he touched you. This is important.”

  “It felt like fire, like ice, like spice, like magic. I think he felt it too.”

  “Fire. Ice. True signs. He’s a Pisces, a true water sign, and you’re a Leo—pure fire. A joining of the opposite forces of the universe! Awesome!”

  “When we got to the end of the hall, Mr. Wilkins—that substitute with the fake eyeball—walked toward us and shushed us, but he smiled, and we smiled back. Even with only one good eye Mr. Wilkins could see the sparks.”

  “I’m taking notes, Romi. I’ve got to check my star books on this one—true soul mates meet in this life, and I am here to witness it! What happened next?”

  “When Julio finally let go, my hand felt empty. I got embarrassed and was afraid to look at him. He touched my hand once more, then ran to his gym class to get there before the bell rang. I heard the late bell, but didn’t even notice it. I danced to French, and didn’t even care when the teacher asked me, in French, if I wanted a detention for being late. I told her, ‘Suit yourself,’ and just smiled.”

  “You said that to Madame Mantua? How many detentions did she give you?”

  “She must have thought I’d lost my senses, because she just told me to sit down and to come back down to the earth’s atmosphere. Was it that obvious?”

  “It must be something in the stars, because if I just giggle in Madame Mantua’s class, she sends me out,” Destiny moaned. “I’ve started leaving a chair in the hall so I have someplace to sit when she puts me out of class! Maybe I should fall in love too.”

  “Who said anything about love, Destiny? He makes me feel silly, happy, crazy—but that’s not love, is it?”

  “Feels the same, they tell me, but how would I know? I get all my information from star books and teen magazines.”

  “Hey, the bell is getting ready to ring. I gotta go. Me and Julio are supposed to talk again tonight on the computer. I’ll call you after that.”

  “OK. Have fun up there in the stars! There’s the bell! See ya!” Destiny’s slim orange figure disappeared into the classroom.

  “Later.” Romi walked slowly down the quickly emptying hall. She was thinking of Julio, not math class, and she smiled as she shifted her book bag on her shoulder.

  24.

  Private Chat Room Conversation

  Hola, Romiette:

  Do you think those Devildogs will come after us now that we made them look stupid in front of the whole cafeteria? I’m not scared of them, but you never know how the peanut minds of people like that operate.

  Yeah, I think they’ll try something. They have to in order to look good in front of the others. We’d better be careful, or at least plan something just as outrageous for the next time they try to stare us down. Were you scared?

  Me? Que no! I came prepared with extra weapons—Jell-O cubes in my back pocket!

  Yeah, right, Jell-O kills. I forgot. Oh, I almost forgot. The puppies are old enough to go. Are you coming on Sunday?

  Yes, about three o’clock. What will your mother say about me? You know I’m a little scared about meeting your folks.

  Even though there’s no reason for you to feel funny, I think I know what you mean. Parents of a girl look at every dude that comes over as a somebody who will take their little darling away. My dad is going to have it really rough when I finally leave home. He and I are very close. He still calls me his little angel and lets me do almost anything. Mama is strict. She always says “No way” when I ask to go on ski trips or overnights with my friends. So I use my best little girl voice and plead to my dad. He usually tells Mama, “Aw, Lady, let the girl go. She works hard in school, makes good grades, and never causes us any trouble. Let’s let her go.” Mama usually gives in, and I smile sweetly to my dad. She knows what I’m doing. She’s been using it on Daddy herself for years! The funny part is that the things that he talks Mama into letting me do are things involving boys or potential dangerous situations—like an overnight in a ski lodge with sleepy chaperones. He doesn’t want me to grow up, but he lets me go to these pretty grown-up places. I guess he trusts me.

  I can tell that you’re crazy about your dad. And your mom sounds cool too. My parents are a little tighter. They’re very strict on me, and expect me to do well, so I do. I see kids all around yelling at their parents and talking back and coming in late and stuff. I wouldn’t even know how to do that. I guess I’m pretty lame.

  No, you don’t sound lame. I get tired of hard-headed, big-headed boys who think they’re so bad that they can’t even take time to be nice to their mama. I like the way you talk about your folks with respect. But didn’t you ever just want to run singing into the moonlight and do
exactly as you wanted to do? Sky dive naked from a plane? Eat ice cream for breakfast and broccoli for dessert?

  I like your attitude! Yeah, I guess I’ve thought about doing that kind of stuff. I’d like to swim across the Nueces River, at the widest crossing, in a thunderstorm, at midnight! How’s that?

  You’re getting there! Do you have clothes on for this swim? Are you carrying anything?

  No, I’m naked as a newborn rat! And I’m carrying a backpack—no—two backpacks! And they’re full of medical supplies, which I must deliver or the lives of the children of Mexico will be lost! And it’s cold—at least fifty below zero!

  Now you’re talking! I think I’ll be in that warm little yacht next to you—the one with a motor and a heated cabin and a fully stocked kitchen—in a coat, sipping cocoa, watching you swim!

  You make me do all that, and you sit sipping hot chocolate while I freeze my naked buns?

  It’s your fantasy! I’m having fun watching you.

  You’re silly. And it’s so much fun to talk to you. Want to hear another fantasy? It’s a little scary.

  I’m ready.

  I imagine two sixteen-year-olds, a little different on the outside but sharing something on the inside, on a beach. I imagine them touching each other in the moonlight on that beach. It wouldn’t matter if it were a thunderstorm, or a hurricane, or fifty below zero—it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t notice. They’d only see each other. He would whisper soft phrases of Spanish love songs into her ear, and she would tremble in his arms because even without knowing the words she’d know the meaning, she could feel the tenderness of his lips on hers. And the world would stop for those few moments while they stood there in the shadows of the night.

  Wow, Julio. You have a way with words. I had that same fantasy many nights, while trying to get to sleep. I imagined that young man and that girl standing on the beach, on a mountain, in a crowded room—no longer alone, but together. I have imagined the feel of his lips on mine. I have imagined how safe I would feel in his arms. I don’t understand it—I don’t want to. But I know it is real and powerful and wonderful. I’m not sure what to do with these feelings—I’ve never felt like this before. But I want to be with him.