Bo sucks in her cheeks when she concentrates, and she has to keep brushing her hair behind her ear because it keeps falling in front of her face. The gay part of my brain wants to take my colita out of my braid and braid her hair so it behaves. After all, she needs her hair out of her eyes to art.
The practical part of my brain knows that at this rate, I’m gonna mess around and get caught sooner or later. Got to be more careful.
I might be staring hard enough for her to notice, because she glances up at me. I shoot my eyes back down at the page.
“Do you two need a room?” David asks. Hunter must assume that I think he told David about me, because his eyes go wide.
“I didn’t say—” Hunter starts.
I cough to keep him from finishing the sentence, and he sucks his lips in. I must have been staring a little too longingly at the hair I want to brush behind Bo’s ear. It’s one thing for Bo to notice me looking, but David? Who else can see how blatantly gay I am? I open my mouth to defend myself, to make some kind of excuse, but my voice is lost. I don’t want to say something shitty like last time.
“I was just kidding,” he says when neither of us answer. Why would he joke about that? It’s not cool, even if I wasn’t just secretly fantasizing about braiding Bo’s hair.
“She’s straight, David,” Bo says nonchalantly before she slides the page back over to me. I force a laugh and take the paper. Thank God for something less gay to concentrate on. It’s starting to look almost like a face. There are two orbs that could be eyes, and I start coloring them. The patterns Bo drew around them give more depth, and they look like two black holes, attracting everything else toward them. I don’t know if I was subconsciously thinking about Bo’s magnetic eyes while I was drawing. But that’s what we drew.
We get an A, obviously.
When the bell rings for lunch, I stay put instead of going to my normal spot in the cafeteria with Bo and David. I have more jewelry to make and not a lot of free time to make it, so I decide to take advantage of Ms. Felix’s open-door policy. Since art is right before lunch anyway, it’s convenient this way.
“You’re not coming?” Bo asks when she and David notice that I don’t get up after class.
“No, I think I’ll stay and make some jewelry.”
“Fun! You want some company?” Bo asks.
“Only if you let me put you to work,” I say. It’s only half a joke. I could use some extra hands. I learned from Jamal that making people help with the simple things saves me a ton of time.
We have a little assembly line going in the art room: Bo cuts the threads, David beads them, and I braid and tie them. By the time lunch is over, I have all the braided bead necklaces I’ll need for this weekend.
14
Make Unto Thee a Fat Wallet
On Saturday, I’m all set up at the mercado before it opens. Early as I am, there are already a few other vendors set up. The smells of fried dough and dulce de leche from the churro stand travel straight to my nose through the December wind, which makes me regret having skipped breakfast. There’s plenty of food I could eat, but there’s no point in being here just to eat all my potential earnings. All the tables are set up facing inward around the plaza, leaving space for the entrance. I’m lucky to have my assigned table right up front. That way I’ll be one of the first and last stops, and I’ll only have one table next to me—less direct competition. The lady next to me is selling champurrado and aguas frescas. Which is doubly great, since I won’t have to compete with her for customers.
At this point I’ve done everything I could possibly do to prepare, so the rest is up to the universe. With every sale, I’ll be one step closer to financial independence.
The first few hours are slow. I smile at everyone who walks by, but most of them avoid my eyes, and my table. Guilting people over with a smile obviously isn’t working, so I give up on that front.