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Maggie came over this afternoon. Mami kept offering her food, but she wouldn’t eat one thing. I don’t know how she does it.

Maybe I should ask her to give me lessons.

Or maybe not. I loved every morsel. And Maggie could stand to put on a few pounds, in my opinion, anyway.

So, while I am digesting, I will listen to music and tell you all about today.

At 5:57 A.M. Isabel and I run downstairs. (Actually we were both up at 5:30, but we restrained ourselves.) Mami and Papi drag themselves out of bed, complaining but smiling. We turn on the radio and every station is playing Christmas music.

Then, after we finish opening presents, Papi starts making his patented huevos rancheros, and Isabel runs upstairs to get dressed. She says she is going to the shelter.

“On Christmas?” I blurt out.

“Yup. Want to come?”

Crazy. Right, Nbook?

Now, here’s the weird thing. I don’t know what it is—maybe the carols on the radio, maybe the presents, maybe the smell of breakfast and the feeling of being together and happy at our first Palo City Christmas—but I call out “Okay!” Just like that.

I actually want, in my heart, to be with my sister.

Big Tooth Lover Boy shows up and gives Isabel a necklace. Then—I cannot believe my eyes—he gives presents to Mami and Papi. I mean, really. This is like something from an old movie.

Papi asks if Simon is trying to hint at something, which embarrasses Simon and Isabel and they both laugh too hard. Then Mami winks at me and says, “Good thing you’re going along, Amalia. You’ll make sure they behave.”

Now I’m embarrassed, too. As Simon, Isabel, and I leave, our faces look like red peppers.

Anyway, I guess I’m expecting this women’s shelter to look like a church or a school with a lawn or something. But it is nothing like that. Simon drives clear across Palo City to a funky area I’ve never been to.

Isabel tells me the shelter is called GAEA. “Gaea” is the name in Greek mythology for the goddess of the earth.

I ask Isabel if Mami and Papi know she works in a neighbourhood like this.

She shakes her head and says, “It’s really nice inside.”

Which is true. The lobby looks like this big, comfortable living room. I see a Christmas tree, a menorah, a Kwanzaa kinara, and a crèche.

Right away I understand why some of the presents are wrapped in baby paper. All over the place I see

Oops. Gotta go. The doorbell rang. Must be James.

12/25

later

Yup. James.

He is all sweetness.

I give him the cologne.

He gives me a present too. I rip it open right there.

It’s an ankle bracelet. With my name and his. Linked together.

Whoa.

Fri 12/26

I will not stress.

I will enjoy my presents. I will go with my family to visit Abuela Aurora at the nursing home near San Clemente.

I will not think about James.

I will not think about what his present means.

I will not wear it either, until I know where we stand.

Period.

Sat 12/27

Nbook, please. You must remind me when I leave off in the middle of a story. I can’t remember everything by myself.

I know, I know. I told you I hate writing.

But we’re amigas now. In a big way. I can tell you stuff and I don’t get all tongue-tied.

Finger-tied.

Whatever.

Okay, where were we? Flashback to Christmas Day. GAEA. Big Tooth Lover Boy drops

off me and Isabel. We’re lugging bags of presents into the building, and all of a sudden little kids are running around me like I’m Santa Claus.

Their parents are in the lobby, which spills into a corridor that branches off in either direction. They are chatting away, smiling at the kids or scolding them. The kids try to be polite, but it’s hard.

It feels like a big PTA event. Except for one thing. None of the parents are dads. Not one.

They’re all mothers. Latina, white, African-American, Indian, Asian. A world festival.

Even Santa Claus is a woman. She’s performing magic tricks in a corner.

Many of the moms are thanking Isabel for coming. They’re introducing themselves to me and shaking my hand. But I’m so busy with the presents and the kids that none of their names stick in my head.

And all the while I’m realizing I have never really talked to Isabel about this place.

“Women’s shelter”—what does that mean anyway? Homeless women?

Some of these women look pretty well off. Beautiful clothes, done-up hair, and nice nails.

What are they doing here?

As I’m trying to put the presents under the tree, I hear someone talking to Isabel. “Two of our child-care people aren’t coming today,” she says. “Would you mind helping with the little ones?”

I hear Isabel answer, “But Ms. Hardwick wanted me to help with the food and punch.”

Well, the kids are so cute, and I’m tickling one of them who has a laugh like Porky Pig, and I’m having the best time....

It happens again, Nbook. I speak right up without even thinking. “I will!”

Of course, right away I’m saying to myself, It’s Christmas Day, and you’re going to ba

by-sit for 30 screaming kids you’ve never met before ?

A smiling African-American woman shakes my hand and says, “Thank you so much.

Your parents are blessed to have daughters like you two. I’m Ms. Hardwick, and I’m the director here.”

Now the Santa is passing out presents. The kids are ripping off the wrapping paper and screaming with delight.

Ms. Hardwick introduces me to two other girls, about Isabel’s age, named Lori and Jenna.

They’re volunteers too, and they’re going to help baby-sit.

We all go down the corridor, along with a couple of moms, to the center’s playroom.

Behind us I hear sound effects: spaceships swooping, lasers buzzing, cars racing, dolls talking to each other in squeaky voices.

The playroom is pretty small, and many of the toys and games are broken and old, but the kids are too busy playing with their gifts to notice.

Actually, the baby-sitting turns out to be pretty easy. I make a friend, a boy who just turned three, named Mikey. He keeps saying, “You my mommy” to me. He doesn’t say much more than that, and he can’t seem to leave my side. We play “space fighters,” using two action figures called Max Endor and Mr. Peebles.

When it’s time to leave, he starts throwing things and crying. I try to stop him, but it’s impossible.

Finally Ms. Hardwick picks him up. “Maybe Amalia will come back,” she says to Mikey.

“Mommy come back?” he says.

“Sure,” is the first word that comes out of my mouth.

Nbook, I will never learn my lesson. Now I have to return to GAEA.

Maybe not. Kids forget. Don’t they?

Sun 12/28

James is being so nice to me. Today he’s wearing the cologne I gave him, which is a big step up from his dad’s ancient bottle of Old Spice—which must have been left over from his college days, because it is beginning to smell more like Old Mice.

As for the ankle bracelet, well, I just don’t know what to do, Nbook.

I don’t want to wear it just because James wants me to. That’s not right. Being a

girlfriend isn’t like doing homework. It’s not an assignment. Right?

Right.

So anyway, today we go to see
Fatal Judgement
, which I’ve seen already at Maggie’s house because her dad produced it. The only reason I’m seeing it again is because James insisted.

And who is right in front of us in line but

Sunny is cool. She’s wearing about a half dozen studs in her ears. When she turns at a certain angle, her midriff shows under her shirt, and if I’m not mistaken, she has a pierced navel.

I am dying to know how she convinced her parents to let her do that (if she did convince them).

Well, she starts talking. And talking. And talking. About the movie, her Christmas gifts, her mom’s cancer, her dad’s bookstore, all in a big tumble of words. She leaves out a few key details, so you have to listen, just to understand what she means.

No one minds the blabbering. Even though some of her news is so sad, her delivery is hilarious. We’re all laughing.

I wish I could talk like that. She expresses more in two minutes than I do in two hours.

“Uh, Sunny? Time-out?” Ducky finally says. “Maybe some other people would like to

talk?”

I finally speak up. I try to describe my experience at GAEA, but even though I think it’s interesting, I somehow seem to drag the conversation down.

At one point James nudges me and says, “Show them the ankle bracelet.”

Moment of truth. I tell him I left it at home.

He doesn’t seem too thrilled. But he doesn’t make a big deal about it.

In fact, he doesn’t make a big deal about anything. He doesn’t talk much before the film.

He doesn’t say anything during the film. And after the film, when Ducky suggests we all go out for a snack, he says, “I have to go home and practice.”

So we all say good-bye, and Ducky and Sunny go off to Tico’s Tacos.

James is silent as we walk to his car. I assume he’s sulking about the ankle bracelet. But I’m not sure. So I try to make conversation. “Did you like the movie?” I ask.

He shrugs. Then he says, “Are they, like, you know...going out?”

“Sunny and Ducky? I don’t know. I think they’re just friends.”

We’re at the car now, and James gives me this funny smile. “That’s what I figured.”

“Why?” I ask.

He kind of snickers to himself. Then he says, “I just don’t think Ducky’s her type, if you know what I mean.”

Which seems strange to me, because Ducky’s cool and funny and outgoing, just like

Sunny. “Well, I can see what they like about each other,” I remark.

We climb into the car, and James starts up the engine. All the while he still has this little smirk on his face. I ask him what he’s thinking about, but he says never mind and changes the subject.

We start talking about the movie. He doesn’t understand some of the plot, which is pretty confusing, but I explain it to him because Maggie has explained it to me.

Mostly, though, James wants to talk about Jennifer McBride, the star. He asks if I’ve ever met her at Maggie’s house.

“No, but I bet you’d like to,” I say.

“I just like the way her hair looks,” James says.

I start laughing.

“I’m serious,” James says. “You should get your hair cut like hers. You’d look much better.”

“Thanks a lot! I mean, really. You’re comparing me to the most gorgeous actress in the world. I could never look like that.”

James smiles. “No. You could look better than that.”

Is that corny or what?

But I like the way it sounds.

I like it a lot.

Thursday January 1!!!!!

1/1

Don’t give me that blank, surprised look, Nbook.

Yes, I just woke up.

No, I have never slept so late in my life.

I have never stayed up so late in my life either. Until after 3:00! I can’t believe Papi and Mami let me. I guess 13 is the magic age. (It probably helps that they were invited to Rico’s house last night. And that practically everyone else’s parents were there too.)

What a Party!

First of all, everyone shows up. All my favourite people. I have the best time getting to know Dawn and Sunny a little more. We’re all singing our brains out and eating like pigs. And somehow I find time to draw a portrait of the scene.

At midnight, everyone starts singing “Auld Lang Syne,” but James and his friends don’t know how to play it. They try to fake it, and it sounds horrible, but nobody cares.

After the song, James lifts me in the air and gives me a big kiss. Right on the lips, right in front of the whole party.

I’m a little embarrassed but not really. Everyone’s acting kind of wild.

The Chavezes put on a tape, a dance mix. James and I are forehead to forehead, slow dancing even though the music is loud and fast. James is smiling. I can tell people are staring at us. It feels great.

“It’s a beautiful night,” James says. “Want to go outside?”

I say yes, and we walk out into Rico’s backyard. From all around the neighbourhood we hear yelling and music and noisemakers. A cool breeze makes me shiver, and James holds me tight. I smell lemons in the air, from the trees in the yard. A few lights are blinking above, and I’m trying to figure out if they’re stars or airplanes.