Lucy Doesn't Wear Pink (30 page)

“Trust us,” Dusty said.

And Lucy knew just who to ask for help.

Mora was all over it. She did drawings of possibilities and pulled a 164-piece marker set out of her backpack for color samples. The red, white, and blue ensemble they came up with — complete with warm-ups — was, as Mora put it, “fabulous.”

Dad and Mr. Auggy held a meeting of the team parents and all the possible sponsors at Pasco’s Café, and Lucy was allowed to attend, since she was team captain. It was a lot like listening to the team argue — before they all grew up.

When Mr. Benitez started to sputter about how much the uniforms were going to cost, Gloria said she’d kick in some money if they’d put CASA BONITA on the backs of the shirts too. Lucy was relieved when Mr. Benitez said, no, he would pay whatever it cost as long as his grocery was the only name on the shirts. She didn’t think the boys would want to play for a hair salon.

Gloria sniffed, until Mr. Auggy told her the team still needed cleats and shin guards. She said she’d pay for half of that amount if the parents would pay the rest. They all agreed, except for J.J.’s parents, who weren’t there.

Carla Rosa’s dad — Guess what? He was the mayor — declared Saturday, March 7th, as Los Suenos Pride Day and urged the business owners to spruce up their establishments for all the visitors who were coming from El Paso. Claudia said she’d provide f lower arrangements for their display windows at a discount. When eyebrows raised, she said okay, she’d do it for free. The mayor mentioned banners, and Veronica and Dusty’s mothers waved their hands — like Dusty and Veronica always did — and said they were graphic designers and would make that happen. No wonder the Gigglers had such neat-looking notebooks.

“Nothin’ too girly,” Emanuel’s father said.

“Shut up,” his mother said. “They know what they’re doing.”

Lucy half-expected Mr. Auggy to buzz them. But mostly the results of the meeting were ding-ding-ding worthy.

“You’ve brought this town together,” Dad said when he and Lucy and Mr. Auggy were walking home amid the leafy shadows of the cottonwoods.

“Not just me,” Mr. Auggy said. “And I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet.”

Dad talked about that on the radio. And about how soccer had eased racial tensions among the kids. Dusty and Veronica were at Lucy’s that day, eating quesadillas before they went off to soccer practice. Mr. Auggy had them playing after school too, and Inez let Lucy go as long as she ate something first.

“Racial tensions?” Veronica said. Her lip hung. “What does that mean?”

Lucy tore off a piece of her quesadilla, but she didn’t eat it. Her mouth had gone dry.

“Isn’t that like white people hating black people?” Dusty said. “We don’t have any black kids at our school.”

Everyone seemed to be waiting for Lucy to explain it. Even Inez.

She let her chunk of quesadilla drop to the plate. “He’s talking about Hispanic people not liking anybody who isn’t Hispanic.”

“Huh?” Dusty said. “I think it’s the other way around. At least it used to be.”

“We don’t do that at our school,” Mora piped up. “ ’Course, most of the kids where I go are white, but I’m pretty popular, so it doesn’t affect me.”

“Who does it affect?” Dusty said, but she was looking at Lucy.

“Well,” Lucy said slowly, “me.”

“You?” Veronica and Dusty said together.

Dusty scrunched up her nose. “What are you talking about?”

The toy chest in the bedroom was feeling pretty attractive. Lucy looked at Inez. She was nodding. There were knots to be untied. Okay, God — here we go.

Lucy picked her words out before she opened her mouth. “You guys used to act like I wasn’t even there because I was white.”

“This is a joke, right?” Dusty said, only she wasn’t laughing. “We never talked to you because you were always a snob to us.”

“You acted like you were better than us.” Veronica’s lip was at an all-time low.

“Nuh-uh,” Lucy said.

“Yuh-huh.”

“It was like nobody else knew how to play soccer. You wouldn’t answer questions when we tried to be friendly — ”

“She was snotty to me too, when I first came here,” Mora said. “Now we’re totally like sisters — we fight and everything — but it was like she thought she was it on a stick.” She snapped her fingers over her head.

Lucy stared at Dusty and Veronica. “But you were out to get me when you started playing soccer with us. You kept making me fall down.”

They both shook their heads.

“Gabe was hateful to J.J. though — you can’t deny that.”

“Gabe is hateful to everybody,” Dusty said.

Veronica gaped at her. “Not me!”

“Whatever.”

Lucy got up on one leg on the chair.

“Uh-oh,” Mora said. “She means business now.”

“What about you telling Januarie that I said she’s too fat to play soccer?”

“What?”
Dusty looked as if Lucy had slapped her. “Why would I do that?”

“Because — ”

Lucy stopped. She couldn’t think of a single reason. Not anymore. But she frowned. “Then who told her that?”

“One of the boys?” Veronica said.

Mora sprang her talking fingers into action. “Boys so don’t say stuff like that. If they want to hurt you, they just say it to your face. They’re not as smart as we are.”

“Or as stupid.”

They all looked at Inez. She appeared to be simply washing potatoes, but Lucy knew better.

“Women — they can be mean,” she said. “They forget they need each other so much.”

Lucy felt something in her throat, but it wasn’t a knot. It was something thick that made her want to hug somebody.

“Okay, so, this was all like this major misunderstanding.” Dusty said. She tightened her ponytail as if she were putting a period at the end of a sentence.

“Well, yeah,” Lucy said. She could already see the list she was going to make tonight: Things I Didn’t Used to Understand but Now I Do.

“We better get to practice,” she said.

“You’re leaving me?” Mora said.

She actually looked sad. Go figure.

But her mood had changed by the time Lucy got home, just before dark. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, shrieking and waving her electronic diary around.

“I trusted you!” she said before Lucy could even ask what was going on.

“Mora,” Inez said sharply.

“Abuela — ” Mora’s free hand came up like an exclamation point. “Not that many people know I even have this — and nobody else could have gotten into my backpack — ”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said. Mora’s eyes were so big she was afraid they’d pop out of her head.

“Intruders.” Mora held the device out like it was Exhibit A on
Law and Order
. “Somebody tried to get in — only they messed up the password.” The pop-eyes shrunk to slits. “You know my password.”

“Right,” Lucy said. “So if I wanted to get in, I could have.”

Mora shook her head, so hard her ponytail snapped into her eye.

“You can’t say it exactly like I do.”

“I didn’t even try!” Lucy put her hands to the sides of her face so she wouldn’t yell. Mora was doing enough yelling for both of them. “Look — I didn’t try to get into your diary. I know what it’s like when somebody tries to put their nose in your private stuff. I just had it happen to me the other day. Ask your abuela.”

Mora looked at Inez, who nodded.

“Then who was it? Veronica and what’s-her-name?”

“Dusty? No way!”

“I am just so annoyed.”

The fingers went crazy as Mora shoved the diary into her backpack and muttered to herself in Spanish.

Lucy felt three knots replace the ones she’d thought were untied. She wrote about them in her Book of Lists that night.

Lucy stopped writing and scratched behind Lollipop’s ear with the tip of her pen.

Not having to do so many chores
did
mean she had more time for soccer and friends — confusing as they were — and even doing homework. But it was still hard, not feeling like Dad needed her anymore. She even wondered if he talked to Mr. Auggy about things he used to talk to her about. A sadness knot tied itself around her throat again.

But she was careful to tuck the Book of Lists in with the kitty before she said, “What’s up, Dad?”

“Luce?”

Lollipop leaped from the bed and into the toy chest.

“It’s just Dad, silly,” Lucy said.

But she was careful to tuck the Book of Lists in with the kitty before she said, “What’s up, Dad?”

He poked his head in. “Did you remember to feed Mudge tonight?”

“Aw man — no.” Lucy scrambled for her sweatshirt. She’d been so wrapped up in her knots she’d forgotten the best cat ever. “I’ll do it now,” she said.

Dad chuckled. “Better now than at three in the morning when he comes to my window yowling. You know how he hates to miss a meal.”

Feeling needed by Dad again, Lucy found her shoes and went to the backyard.

“Sorry, Mudge,” she said into the darkness. “I’ll give you some tuna — come on.”

Only silence answered her.

“Mudge? Kitty-kitty? Tuna!”

Nothing. Lucy hurried across the yard to the shed, opened the door, promised tuna — still no grumbling from the big brown tabby.

She slipped out the gate and peered behind the century plant, but only its leaves threatened to bite, not Mudge.

“Kitty-kitty-kitty!”

“Luce — what’s going on?” Dad called from the back step.

“I can’t find him, Dad.” Lucy could hear the worry in her own voice. “He always comes for tuna.”

“Try taking a can out there with you. He might be playing hard to get because you’re late.”

With yet another knot tying itself inside her, Lucy ran to the house, got a can of StarKist and was still pulling the top off as she took the steps in one jump.

“Mudgie — come smell — tuna, big guy!”

She walked every inch of the yard, waving the can until the smell made her stomach icky.

“He must be out hunting,” Dad said finally.

“No, that’s Artemis’s job.”

“I don’t know that anybody ever told him that.” Dad held out his hand. “Come on in, Luce. He’ll be back.”