“Why would you do that?” I yell. He could have died.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal. He didn’t even think about risking his life for me. I want to push him into the fence. Instead, I hug him. He laughs an uncomfortable laugh.
“You’re so dramatic.”
I hold on tighter before letting go. When we turn to walk back home, Do?a Violeta is standing at the edge of her house, like she’s ready to rush over. On the other side of the street, Bianca is staring at us with wide eyes while her friends keep walking. I almost think she’s going to come check on us, but she turns around to catch up with her friends. After we calm down Do?a Violeta and make her promise not to tell Mami, none of us talk about what happened the rest of the way home, or ever again.
13
Thou Shalt Confess Thy Sins—Selectively
I made the mistake of posting a bunch of friendship bracelet pictures on Insta for Black Friday, so now we have a backlog of orders to catch up on. I can’t complain, though. Even though I like the beadwork best as far as aesthetics go, the woven bracelets are my favorite to work on. I get into this rhythm when I make them. It’s repetitive and predictable, and something about that is soothing, almost like braiding hair.
While I weave, I strategize about job hunting to keep from thinking about my dad. Am I starting to freak out over his lack of response? Yes. Yes, I am. But if I replace those thoughts with thoughts of job hunting, I won’t have to deal with it, right? We’ll go with that.
Finding a job is a lot harder than I thought it would be, and it seems like I’ve already exhausted all my options for work anywhere near our house. I’ve dropped off résumés for fast food, coffee shop, retail, and receptionist jobs and still nothing. Maybe I’ll have better luck if I try closer to Slayton.
There’s an apartment I have my eye on just in case. It only requires a one-month security deposit, and the rent is way cheaper than anything else in the area. If I can get a minimum-wage job, I can make it work. Granted, it’s not the nicest apartment in the world—which explains why there are so many available units—but it’ll do. Cesar and I could get a bunk bed or something. But we can’t get the apartment if I can’t get a job.
I can’t stress too much if I stay focused. The winter mercado is in town soon, like it is every year on the second and third Saturdays of December. I’m hoping to catch up on orders so I can make extras to sell there. It’ll be held at the plaza on Central for the next couple of Saturdays, and Mom said if I set it up on my own, I can keep all the money I make minus expenses for materials. At the rate I’m going, I’ll catch up on all our existing orders by the weekend, and then I can go to the mercado the next two weekends to sell everything extra I’ve made.
Jamal walks into the living room. He sits next to me and watches my hands, like he’s trying to figure out how it works. Cesar is helping my mom make dinner, so it’s just the two of us here right now.
“These are really pretty. . . .” Jamal eyes my creations, and I take the opportunity to do so myself. The friendship bracelets all have different color palettes, from desert sunset to cotton candy to jungle flowers. The angular patterns feel like they belong in a Mexican calle being sold to anyone passing by.
“Thanks.” The thought makes me grin. These look legit.
“Do you need any help?” Jamal asks.
I put down the strings I was tying and stretch out my cramped fingers. It would take me way too long to teach him how to make the friendship bracelets, but maybe he can help me make some extra things while I catch up.
“Can you start cutting these threads for me? Ten inches each.” I try not to grin too hard when he picks up the ruler and gets right to work.
“Sorry about the other day,” he says as he measures out a thread. “I thought you knew Cesar told me. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad for not being out.”