Falling Too Fast (3 page)

Alexis looked up at him, her heart soaring with joy.

“Thanks again,” he said, and waved good-bye as the van pulled away.

Alexis stood by the curb and watched the van disappear into traffic.
He's the one!
Excitement started to shoot up from her toes. Alexis couldn't hold it back any longer. She screamed at the top of her lungs. This had been the best day ever!

O
n Monday, Alexis combed through the local papers online at the school library for any information about her
charro
. Alexis started a list in her history notebook of things she learned about him.

Things I Know:

1. Name: Christian Luna
   
2. Junior at Performing Arts High School
   
3. Won best male singer award at the Rodeo Exposition in Corpus Christi last year
   
4. Handsome
   
5. Amazing singer
   

Things I Don't Know:

1. Does he like me?
   
2. Does he have a girlfriend?
   
3. Does he like me?
   
4. What's his favorite song?
   
5. Does he like me?
   

The sixth-period bell rang, waking Alexis from her thoughts. It was time for mariachi practice, and she couldn't help but be nervous. Ever since Mr. Fernandez left the Dos Rios mariachi ensemble, they'd had a string of unqualified teachers. Now it was the assistant principal's turn. Alexis feared that if he didn't work out, the school might just scrap the program altogether.

Alexis took a deep breath and walked down the hallway toward the storage room. When they lost their music teacher, they also lost their nice music studio. With no one to fight on their behalf, they were left sharing a space with the janitorial staff.

Nikki was waiting for her by the girls' bathroom. Her
guitarrón
, a large bass guitar, was strapped over her shoulder with a pink sash. The thing was so big, Alexis always worried that Nikki would tip over from the weight.

Nikki was chewing on the tip of her braid. “Do you think Castillo will work out?” she asked. Alexis shrugged as she opened the door that led to the storage room. “I hate practicing here,” Nikki added in a low voice. “It's so cold and depressing.”

The storage room had been rearranged for their arrival. Broken desks, mops, and brooms had been pushed to the side to make room for a semicircle of chairs and black music stands. Alexis noted a few new faces. Castillo had warned her that he was adding new members to the group. So many seniors had graduated last year that they were left with only three continuing musicians. In order to compete, they had to have at least eight people. But these new members had to be some kind of joke, Alexis thought.

She counted seven new bodies. Three were dozing off. One girl with a ton of makeup and big reddish hair was chatting loudly on her cell phone. In the back, a scary-looking girl in black sat reading a comic book. Two thug-looking types were scratching their names onto metal chairs.
Oh, no
, Alexis realized.
This is AP Castillo's “special” group
.

“Hi,” Justin said behind her. Alexis jumped. “Looks like we'll have a full ensemble now.” He was holding his trumpet case and smiling.

Alexis wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “Justin, are you serious? Look at them. They're not musicians. They're hoodlums.”

“Who you callin' hoodlums,
fresa
?” the girl on the cell phone snapped, closing her phone and slipping it into the pocket of her supertight jeans. She stood and got right up in Alexis's face. This close, Alexis noticed that she was wearing violet-colored contacts. It made her look a little alien-like with her red-streaked hair and brown skin.

Alexis glanced around, wondering if anyone was going to step in. The tough girl was about her height, but she looked mean, like she probably fought dirty.

Suddenly, the door opened, interrupting their argument. A man yelled, “Get in there right now.” Alexis recognized AP Castillo's voice and sighed with relief. The assistant principal would realize his mistake and take these guys somewhere else to serve detention. But when Alexis turned around, she was surprised to see her cousin Santiago coming through the door with a frown on his face.

“Santi,” Alexis cried. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Before Santiago could say anything, AP Castillo slapped him on the back. “He's the newest member of the Dos Rios mariachi ensemble. Isn't that right, Santiago?”

Santiago squirmed a bit under the AP's firm stare. He finally relented. “Yes, sir.”

Confused, Alexis looked to AP Castillo. “I don't understand. None of these guys play instruments.”

AP Castillo smiled, revealing his clear braces. There was a strange gleam in his hazel eyes. “I figure mariachi is exactly what these guys need. This music is all about taking pride in one's culture — and the practices will be good to build discipline.”

Alexis doubled over as if socked in the stomach. Was he intentionally trying to sabotage their chances of competing? Alexis looked from Nikki to Justin for help.

“It'll be fun,” Castillo continued as he pulled out a guitar from the closet. “Besides, you need more members and these students need an activity — it's perfect!”

“I didn't know you played the guitar,” Nikki said, perking up a bit.

“I don't.” He laughed. “But I've been watching some YouTube videos, and I figure we can all start at the beginning together.”

Alexis felt her dreams slip between her fingertips. Now how was she supposed to compete at the statewide competition and get discovered by a music scout?

 

A few days later, Alexis and Santiago went to her family's restaurant together after practice. She didn't understand how Santiago had done it, but he had convinced AP Castillo to let him play the accordion. As far as she could remember, Santiago had never shown any interest in their late grandfather's music. Now he wouldn't stop jabbering about how this was going to connect him to his roots and how he was having these dreams where their grandfather, Lil Rafa, came to him, blah blah blah. Alexis pushed open the door, welcoming the comforting sounds of a Northern Mexican ballad playing on the old jukebox.

Her mother, Magda, bussed tables and scolded someone on the cordless phone. “How come whenever a big concert is in town, you two get sick all of a sudden? No. Wasn't your mamá ill last week? Your poor mamá is always sick. Maybe I should bring her some chicken soup.” Magda motioned for Alexis and Santiago to get out of her way with a flick of her wrist.

In the kitchen, Alexis heard pots and pans clanging. Chuy, her dad's right-hand man, was rushing around the kitchen. He had taken on more responsibilities after her dad's minor heart attack six months ago. The heart attack brought the family together. Everyone wanted to do their part to help with the ever-growing medical bills — Alexis had stopped taking private vocal lessons.

Turning to her left, she admired the wall-high shrine to her late grandfather, Lil Rafa “Los Dedos del Valle” Treviño Garza. The shrine was decorated with burning candles, incense, fake flowers, tequila, his famous accordion, and other trinkets her grandmother Trini had collected.

Alexis noticed Santiago talking to their grandmother Trini. He motioned to the accordion. Grandma Trini sat at a table she'd converted into a Lil Rafa souvenir stand — complete with CDs, miniature replicas of her late husband, bumper stickers, and the crochet doilies she made herself.

Alexis's dad, Leonardo, was also with Grandma Trini. Walking up to them, she noticed that her dad was crocheting a toilet seat cover. Leonardo had taken up crochet while he was in recovery to help him relax, and soon realized that he was really good at it. Her dad looked up as she approached.

Leonardo held up the toilet seat cover for her to admire. “What do you think?”

“It's beautiful, Dad,” Alexis said, touching the intricate weave.

Suddenly, Leonardo sniffed the air. His eyes grew large with alarm. He passed the crochet piece to Grandma Trini and stood up. “Chuy,” he growled.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Chuy cried from the kitchen in Spanish. Moments later, Chuy appeared carrying a big silver pot, his straight black hair held back with a hairnet. He was a small guy with sharp eyes and an easy smile. “Sorry! Sorry!” he repeated as he carried the pot of burnt beans out the back door.

Alexis turned her attention back to her grandma Trini and Santiago. Grandma Trini was reaching into the altar to grab the accordion. Alexis watched in horror as her cousin put the instrument on upside down. Trini giggled and showed him how to put it on correctly.

Santiago combed his fingers through his locks and began pushing random buttons as he tried to sing “La Bamba.” His voice was totally off-key, but Grandma Trini didn't seem to notice. She was clapping for him like he was a rock star. Thankfully, Santiago left after one song to serenade the other customers.

“Smell me,” Trini commanded, thrusting her voluptuous boobs at Alexis's face.

Alexis took a sniff and made a curious face. “What am I smelling?”

Trini licked her pink lips and glanced around the room. “I was reading this article about male pheromones I borrowed from the doctor's office—”

“Stole! You stole that magazine!” Alexis's other grandmother, Abuelita Alpha, cried from her side of the restaurant. The two grandmothers were always meddling in each other's business.
“Mentirosa.”

Trini leaned into Alexis. “Anyway, like I was saying,” she said. “They makes the men hungry for love,” she explained. “So I got some of the used bacon lard from the kitchen to test it out. What do you think?”

Alexis winced at the thought. “I don't know, Grandma.”

“Here you go, honey,” her mother interrupted, placing a plate of quesadillas with rice and beans in front of Alexis. It was her favorite meal.

Alexis stared at the plate. She couldn't imagine eating anything at the moment. All she could think about were her doused dreams, the dysfunctional mariachi group, and El Charro Negro. She had done everything the old lady told her to do. Her chest tightened at the thought of never singing with El Charro Negro onstage. “I'm sorry, but I'm not hungry.”

“Not hungry!” both grandmothers cried out together.

Abuelita Alpha stormed across the room in her favorite black dress. Usually she respected Trini's side of the restaurant, but this was an emergency. Alpha put a cold, pruned palm on Alexis's forehead. “She doesn't have a fever.”

“But look at those bags,” Trini cried.

“I think she looks sad.” Her mother frowned.

“Where does it hurt?” Alpha asked, poking Alexis's shoulder.

Alexis shrugged. “I don't know, all over, I guess.”

Her grandmothers and mother cried out in anguish.

“She's lovesick,” Trini explained to a customer who looked shocked by their outburst. “We Garzas are very passionate women, you know.”

“There is a boy I like,” Alexis began. “He sings mariachi at the new performing arts high school in Mission. You know, the one I wanted to go to.” Her mother and grandmothers nodded with understanding. Alexis felt her chest tighten again as she continued. “And to make it worse, our high school mariachi group totally sucks this year. I'll never be able to compete at his level and he'll never look at me.”

“Ay,
mija
,” her mother said in a comforting voice. “I'm sorry things are not as you planned. But maybe you're just looking at it wrong. Have you even tried to woo him?”