With the Fire on High(44)

“Don’t go getting soft on me, Santi.” But he doesn’t look at me. I think we are both so used to dissing each other that in this moment of sincerity we feel shy. “The tickets are for this Saturday.”

“I’ll organize my people. You want help cleaning your station? Chef will get angry if he sees you haven’t unplugged your burners.”

But Malachi waves me off. “Nah, you already made the kid’s day.”





Complications


I’ve always had a feeling Malachi was interested. Even if he hasn’t said those exact words. And to be honest, even if he had said those exact words I probably wouldn’t have believed him. If there’s one thing I learned from Tyrone, it’s that a person can say all kinds of things but it may not be more than that, just speech. Malachi’s actions, however, tell me time and again that he’s feeling me.

And I don’t know what to do about it. It takes me the whole bus ride home to get the courage to bring it up to Angelica, and even then I hide it behind Malachi’s invitation.

Angelica is immediately on her phone texting Laura. “Cool, she says she’s free so we’re both good to go.” I’m quiet on the walk to my house. Angelica comes inside with me. She’s going to take photographs of a new mural in Port Richmond this afternoon, and there’s a thrift store there that offers cash for secondhand clothes. She’s offered to sell a bag of old shirts and jeans for me.

We’re upstairs in my room, where I’m tossing the clothes into a large plastic bag. I hope I can earn enough to make a dent on what I owe for the trip. I have a ton of Babygirl’s clothing that doesn’t fit her anymore, and I throw in two brand-name shirts I got last Christmas that I hope will sell for a good amount.

“That shirt is cute; why are you giving it away?” she says, grabbing a Doc McStuffins shirt from the top of the pile.

“Because it doesn’t fit Babygirl. Unless you’re having a child sometime soon?” I say, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, yup, that’s at the top of Laura’s to-do list, get me pregnant.”

Angelica plumps up the pillow and leans back on my bed. “So, is this like a double date this weekend?”

“What? No. In fact, he even invited ’Buela and Babygirl.”

“Ohhh. That’s deep. He’s already trying to get in with the family.”

I stop what I’m doing. “I think he’s serious about going out with me. It’s just, you know how I am with boys.”

Angelica grabs a shirt from my hands and folds it. “You are scared of being hurt, girl. And you never think you have time for yourself.”

I shake my head. “I don’t have time for myself. And I don’t have time for boys.”

Angelica and I fold silently side by side. When the bag is full she ties it up tight and I walk her downstairs. At the doorway she pauses. “Maybe it’s not about time, Emoni. Maybe it’s about having things on your terms. Being with Malachi? It doesn’t have to look like anything except what you two make it. And if anyone can take ingredients that shouldn’t work and make something delicious out of them, it’s you. Give my goddaughter a hug from me.”





Pride


It’s Wednesday—two days left before the money is due. I finally swallow my pride and approach Chef Ayden. “Chef Ayden, I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

Chef Ayden looks at me with a grin. Ever since the Winter Dinner, Chef’s been smiling more, giving people high fives. I know he feels relief that the majority of the money was covered. A relief I do not feel.

Angelica was able to sell my clothes for forty-five dollars. ’Buela left a big-faced fifty near my bed this morning, and I’m not sure where she got it; her disability check doesn’t come again until next month. But that still means I have two days to find a hundred and eighty dollars.

“Emoni, the fund-raiser of the century. What can I do for you?”

I smile back at him although I feel sick inside. How can you be a good fund-raiser if you didn’t reach your goal? “I was wondering if I could maybe get a bit more time to pay the deposit? I’m still short some.” I slide the hundred dollars his way. He looks down at the bills then up at me.

“Oh, Emoni. I wish I’d known you needed assistance. We had some students ask for help early on and we were able to figure out a payment plan, and even some extensions, but it’s a bit late to scramble and make changes. . . . I’ll have to talk to Principal Holderness.”

But I can tell from his face he isn’t optimistic.

“Does this mean if I can’t find the money, I can’t go?”

He slides the bills over to me, then pats my hand. “Of course you’re going, even I have to pay for it myself,” he says. But the look in his eye is the same as ’Buela’s when she told me she didn’t have the cash. Two days just isn’t enough time for people to rearrange their holiday money for something that isn’t a necessity. He pats my hand again. “We just have to come up with a creative solution. I’ll talk to Principal Holderness. Hold on to your money for now.”

Thursday morning I wake up and everything in my body wants to stay in bed. I want to hide under my blankets and pretend the world doesn’t exist outside these walls. But Babygirl wakes out of a dream screaming and I pick her up to soothe her. It takes fifteen minutes to get her calm enough to dress and feed, and I know I won’t have time to dress myself in anything other than the leggings and T-shirt I slept in. When ’Buela asks me something about washing the dishes I almost bite her head off, I’m in such a bad mood, but I catch myself before I say something I’ll regret. If I can’t go on this trip it’s no one’s fault, especially not ’Buela’s.