“Hey! What’d I do?” Jamal cradles his ear.
“You probably deserved it.” I shrug. If Jamal is going to be with my brother, that makes him family. And family gets flicked ears. It’s a sign of affection.
We’re almost at the corner store, but Do?a Violeta’s music is loud enough that we can still hear it. “Cielito Lindo” plays, and on instinct Cesar and I start singing as we walk. Cesar throws his arms around both me and Jamal and we belt the words in our best deep mariachi voices. Jamal quickly learns the “ay, ay, ay, ay” part, but that’s it. He just laughs at us while we make fools of ourselves.
Then Cesar stops singing.
“Shit . . .” He stops walking, too.
“What?” I ask.
“I, uh, forgotmywallet.” His words come out too fast.
“It’s fine, I got you,” Jamal says.
“No, I’m not hungry anymore.” He’s staring at a black truck in the corner store parking lot. “Let’s just go back.”
That’s when I see them. Through the store window, six guys from Rover. I recognize a couple of them Cesar was always fighting. I never thought of Cesar as the type to avoid a fight, but he’s already turning around. He doesn’t want to be noticed right now.
“Okay, let’s go,” Jamal says when he sees them. But just when we start to turn around, the store doors open and my gut pulls at the slur they call him.
“？Oye, maricón!”
Cesar clenches his fists but keeps walking. I want to turn around and fight them for him, but I don’t have the alcohol to give me the courage like I did at the party. Besides, there’s too many. Even Cesar has to know he can’t take all six, with or without me and Jamal helping. I secretly hope it doesn’t come to that, because I don’t know if I’d have the guts.
“Look, he’s running away again!” They erupt in laughter.
I’m ready to hold Cesar back and convince him to drop it, but he doesn’t turn to fight. He runs. Jamal and I take off with him. The secret code also states that when one of us runs, we’re all gone. I chose the worst day to leave the house in chanclas. The Rover boys get into their truck, a couple of them hopping into the bed, and drive after us.
I’m not as fast as Cesar or Jamal, so the distance between us grows a little with every stride. Still, I run as fast as I can in freaking chanclas. The truck pulls one wheel onto the sidewalk, like they’re trying to run us over. My feet can’t move any faster than they already are, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I pump my legs so hard my calves burn, but I’m still trailing behind Cesar and Jamal. There’s an alley we can turn into up ahead, but I don’t know how quickly I can get there. The truck gains on me. The fence on the other side of the sidewalk is impossible to avoid without running into the street. The horn honks less than a few yards behind me, pulling a sharp scream out of my throat. I almost fall forward, but I keep running. Cesar turns at the noise.
“Yami!” His eyes widen when he sees how close I am to getting run over. He stumbles and changes directions.
“Cesar, no!” Jamal turns around when Cesar does. Cesar runs back and pushes me into the fence hard enough so the truck is heading for him instead of me.
Just when my brother is about to be roadkill, the truck pulls back on the road and drives off. The laughter is almost as loud as the blasting music.
I yank off one of my chanclas and take a running start. I let out a strangled war screech and throw it at the truck. It hits the back window, but it doesn’t give me the satisfaction I want. They laugh and drive away, and my chancla gets run over by another car. They could have just killed me. If Cesar hadn’t pushed me out of the way . . .
“You okay, Yami?” Cesar asks, panting. I spin around and redirect my anger.