Efrain's Secret (6 page)

Fool can’t get himself out of high school, but he’s going to buy Candace a diamond ring? I laugh until I realize that maybe Lefty
can
buy her a diamond because plenty of “students” at AC just come to ply trade in the locker room, stairwells, and cafeteria. Kids go to class to avoid them as much as to learn. Who knows what Lefty keeps in that bag besides the books he never cracks open?

I give it to Candace, though. She runs with it. “Okay, so you go to the jeweler to buy me a diamond ring that he got for five thousand,” she says. “How much is he going to sell it to you for, Dominic?”

“Hold up now, mami,” says Lefty. “If I give you this diamond ring, what are you going to give me?”

Okay, dude just OD’d, and I can’t abide that. I head over there. “Yo, Lefty,” I say, leaning over him and jabbing him in the shoulder. “Answer me this. How many times do you have to repeat the tenth grade before you realize that girls don’t think it’s cute?”

Lefty juts up his chin and scowls at me from the corner of his eye. “Yo, Efrain, I know you didn’t just dis me, ’cause then I’d have to tutor
you
, know what I’m sayin’?”

Mr. Sweren shushes us from the front of the room. “The school day may be over, but the library’s rules still apply. Lower your voices.”

“Yo, Sweren, you’d better check Efrain or there’s going to be a whole lot more rule breaking up in here.”

“What’s going on over there?”

“Nothing, Mr. Sweren,” says Candace. “Efrain and Dominic are messing around, but I have it under control.”

Mr. Sweren says, “Rodriguez, why are you over there fooling with Saldaña when you have someone waiting for you over here?” He points to a table at the back of the room where the tenth grader I’m supposed to be tutoring in Spanish sits looking lost.

See what happens when you don’t mind your own business?
That’s
why chivalry is dead, man. And I wasn’t even trying to check Lefty because I like Candace or anything.

As I walk back to my tutee, Candace tells Lefty, “He’s right, though. You really want to impress me? Pass math for a change.” Ordinarily, I would laugh, but she just irks me.

Affinity
(n.)
a spontaneous feeling of closeness

It irks me so much that I wait for Ms. Like That after the program. I tell Chingy what I have to do, but only when I convince him that I’ll call him before I hook up with GiGi tonight does he finally take off. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say to Candace, but she needs to hear something so we make it through the school year without incident. Twelve years of school, and I never had any problems. Not when my old classmates at St. Gabe’s discovered why I had to transfer to public school. Not when guys at IS 162 would call me a faggot because I like to read until Nestor told them we were boys, and they let me be. Not when my mother found out about Awilda and her pregnancy and my home became the second circle of hell. Just because Candace has had her troubles doesn’t give her the right to create any for me. God has been known to throw a few character-building adversities a brother’s way with no assists from her, you feel me?

I wait by the main entrance for twenty minutes, wondering if Candace might have left through another exit. When I head back to the library and cross Candace on her way out, I immediately let her have it. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but save it for someone who deserves it.” I expect her to roll her eyes at me, yell back, all those things that girls do, then keep it moving, but Candace stops right in front of me. “And here’s a clue: I ain’t the one.”

“Okay, Efrain,” she says.

“Nah, don’t
okay
me. I’ve been nothing but nice to you, Candace, but you act like I offend you by even acknowledging that you exist.”

“You’re right,” says Candace. “I just had a long talk with Mr. Sweren, and I told him what happened with Dominic. He said he wasn’t surprised that you intervened. That you’re a stand-up guy. I realize that I’ve been nasty to you for no reason, and I’m sorry.”

It takes a moment for her sincerity to sink in. I don’t think I ever had a girl say she was sorry to me and truly mean it. Girls usually whine or giggle when “apologizing,” making it obvious that they really don’t want to admit that they’re wrong. Or they have an ulterior motive like GiGi did. Actually, GiGi never did say she was sorry, did she? I just say, “No one’s nasty for no apparent reason.”

We start walking toward the exit. “This is going to sound weird, Efrain, but sometimes I can’t stand it when people are nice to me. Especially when things are fine. I start thinking,
Where are you going to be when I do need help?”

But that doesn’t sound weird to me at all. On some inexplicable level, I get it. I get her. “Keep doing like you do, and you won’t have that problem for long,” I say. “Just send those folks my way because I could use a little kindness after dealing with you.”

Candace twists her mouth, trying not to laugh. That girl has some pretty lips. She notices the scholarship book in my hand. “Oh my God, a boy with a book?” Candace takes the book from me and thumbs through it. “And without pictures!”

“Whatever.” I wish I were as good as she is at keeping a straight face, but I’m not. “Now, if I said something like that about you and math, I’d be wrong, right?”

“Touché.”

We walk out of the school building. “Which way are you going?” She points at the bus stop for the Bx17 at the end of the block. “I’ll walk you.” She must live near me because that bus goes right by my building.

“Mr. Sweren says that you’re probably going to be valedictorian.”

I smile and shake my head. “Not if I don’t ace physics.” The second I say it, I want to take it back.

“Physics isn’t easy.”

“You’re having a hard time with physics, too?”

“No,” she says smirking. “I’m in advanced science.”

“Scared of you,” I say, and she laughs. We get to the bus stop, and Candace and I both sit down.

“What colleges are you applying to?”

“Harvard, Yale, Princeton …”

Candace laughs. “And you scared of me?” I shrug it off like it’s no big deal, yet I’m glad she realizes that it is. Then she says, “You must’ve killed the SAT.”

My heart sinks. I don’t want to sabotage this better impression, but what if news of my record-breaking yet still unimpressive score reaches her? I settle on “I could’ve done better. I will do better when I take it again in January.” I almost believe it. I
would
believe it if I had a seat in that prep course.

Candace asks, “So you’re applying to all seven Ivies?”

“All of them except for Columbia just because, you know, it’s in New York City.”

“So you want to go away to college,” she says. “Yeah, me too.”

But the sadness in her eyes tells me that
away
for Candace means something different than it does for me. “You want to go back home?” The bus rambles down the block toward us, but I’m not ready for the conversation to end. But, damn, where did I pull
out that stupid question? If she is from K-Ville, she doesn’t want to be reminded of all that, and here I go and suggest that she wants to head straight back to that trauma.

The bus pulls up to the curb, and the doors open. Without saying anything, Candace walks past me and mounts the first step. Funny, I’d rather she light into me again than not talk to me at all, but what choice do I have? Just as I accept this will end where it started, Candace turns around and says, “Dillard.”

“Huh?” Then I correct myself. “I mean, excuse me?”

“My first-choice college is Dillard University. Back home in New Orleans.” All I can do is nod, but Candace smiles at me like it’s more than enough. “See you tomorrow, Efrain.”

“Bye, Candace.” She climbs into the bus and takes a seat by the window. We wave to each other as the bus pulls away and down the street. I still wish the conversation did not have to end, but then I remember it’s all good. She still has the book I borrowed from the school library.

Obdurate
(adj.)
unyielding to persuasion or moral influence

When Nestor sees me, he runs across the street. “What’s her name, bro?”

“Man, get away from me with all that.” I hope he’s bluffing. Either I’m walking around with a pathetic expression on my face, or he’s mad intuitive for a dude. Either way, it’s not a good look.

Nestor catches up to me and punches me in the shoulder. “So, what’s up?” he asks. “Talk to me.”

I feel good, so I decide to give him a bone. Just not the T. “You know GiGi González?”

“Do I know GiGi? She was my first kiss, bro. Set the bar mad high!” Nestor takes a second to reminisce. “’Member how we were playing seven minutes in heaven at Chingy’s tenth birthday party? Man, I’ve been in love with that girl ever since.” He shakes his head and then clamps his hand down on my shoulder. “Well, if I have to lose her to somebody, I’d rather it be to you.” It’s funny to hear Nestor say this because he’s more GiGi’s type than I’ll ever be. Truth is, I don’t know why lately she’s been showing me so much love. As fine as she is, not knowing her motives makes it hard to enjoy her attention.

“Come back to AC, and she’s all yours,” I say.

Nestor laughs. “I have to make that paper, so you’ll have to be my wingman. So, what’s up with her?”

I tell him how GiGi got me in trouble in physics class and
offered to do my homework. “Says if I drop by her crib tonight around eight, I can pick up the assignment.”

We reach the front of my building. I sit down on the stoop while Nestor cackles and does what Chingy calls his laugh dance. “Oh, snap, Efrain. You might be pickin’ up somethin’ besides homework.” He flounces in place like a little kid who needs to pee.

“Shut up, man.” The idea of getting it on with GiGi doesn’t constitute an original thought, but I’m not keen on discussing it with Nestor. Maybe it has to do with a conversation we once had with Chingy’s brother Baraka. We were bombarding him with questions about sex, and he was cool answering them until Nestor got ugly. He kept saying things like
I wanna beat this chick
or
I can’t wait to hit that
and
Man, I would just gut her
. Finally, BK yelled,
Yo, we’re trying to parlay about sex here, but what the hell you screaming about, kid? Rape? If that’s how you want to talk about sisters, take that grimy conversation elsewhere
.

I finally say, “Nah, man, GiGi wants a dude who’ll take her to all those celebrity hot spots or whatever, and I’m just not the one, kid.”

Nestor sits down next to me. “But you can be.”

That’s my cue to bounce. I stand up and say, “Let me get upstairs.”

Nestor stands up, too, grabbing my arm and blocking my path. “Look, E., I know you. In certain ways, you and I aren’t all that different. Chingy, he’s—”

I shake his hand off my arm. “Nah, man, don’t talk about Chingy.”

“Wait, let me finish.” Nestor lays his hand on my arm. “I’m not trying to talk sideways about Chingy, because, despite everything, I still got mad love for that brother. But let’s be real, E. Homeboy likes his bling, and you know his parents be spoiling
him. And I ain’t mad at nobody for that, and I’m sure you ain’t either. But we both know our parents don’t got it like that to give it to us. And who knows? Maybe that’s why we have … How do they call it? Loftier ambitions!” I start to laugh. Nestor seems confused. He sees me eyeing his gear and gets it. “Okay, hold up. Efrain, look at me.” I take in Nestor’s Akademiks jeans with the swirl pockets, his Notorious B.I.G. T-shirt, and the denim days Air Force 1s. His kicks alone cost almost two hundred bucks. “This is just a uniform,” says Nestor. “I rock gear like this to work, but study me good, E.” He holds out his hands in front of me, palm side down so I can see the scar on the back of his left hand from the time when we were horsing around on some rocks on a class trip to Central Park. Then Nestor pulls the collar of his T-shirt away from his neck to reveal the simple gold necklace with the crucifix pendant his grandmother gave him when he made his first communion. “I don’t rock any ice, and I’m not pushing a phat ride, but you know I get paid, so why is that?” Nestor doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Because, just like you, E., I have better things to do with my money. I got plans beyond this place.”