Spain or Shine Read online

  “You aren’t coming in?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the opposite row of classrooms, but she knew he saw through the classrooms and the buildings beyond them to the ocean breaking on the beach. “Um, it’s just that the waves are really awesome today,” he answered. She halfheartedly understood—the ocean was calling him.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll tell her,” she sighed.

  “Thanks, Elena. We’ll get together over the weekend to start working, okay?”

  She waved him off, stepped inside the theater, and slunk into a seat. Resting her head in her palm, she watched Alex retreating back through the open door and wondered what she had gotten herself into.

  Chapter Eight

  “Sorry I’m late,” Elena said one afternoon a couple weeks later as she slid into a seat at the outdoor table with Jenna and Marci. The girls had planned to meet at their new favorite café on Alameda del Boulevard, a wide tree-lined street, and Elena was late as usual. They’d come under the premise of studying, but it looked as though Marci and Jenna hadn’t even taken their books out of their backpacks yet.

  “No problem,” Marci said, pushing a café con leche across the table. “We ordered this for you.”

  “Thanks. Where’s Caitlin?”

  “Her horticulture class has an all-day field trip.”

  Elena nodded. “So, what’s up?”

  “I was just saying we should plan a road trip.” Jenna took a sip of her coffee, then licked a dab of foam from her upper lip. “I just think, you know, we have two more months in Spain, so we should see as much variety as we can.”

  “The school has a trip to Bilbao,” Elena offered, stirring three sugars into her cup. She had become a big fan of coffee since Señora Cruz introduced her to it on her first morning in Spain. Elena counted it as a way to absorb some European culture. People here loved their strong coffee. “I think the Bilbao trip includes a tour of the Guggenheim Museum.”

  “I’m not talking about a school trip to a stuffy museum.” Jenna sighed. “I’m talking about a fun road trip with just our friends.”

  A waiter came by their table, and Elena and Jenna ordered churros con chocolate with their coffee.

  “I’ll have a bottled water, too,” Elena said as the waiter was leaving their table. He asked her something that sounded like, “With a glass?” She nodded. A glass would be nice.

  “Okay, Jenna, where do you think we should go?” Elena asked.

  “Well, I was talking to this guy in my Basque culture class, and he told me about a place called Ibiza.” Jenna leaned forward in her chair. “It’s this tiny island off the coast of Barcelona where people go clubbing all night and then sleep on the beach all day.”

  “I thought you wanted to see the variety of Spain?” Elena asked. “That doesn’t sound so different from being here except for maybe a few more parties.”

  “It would be cool to see some more culture, like a big museum or a festival,” Marci agreed. “This Ibiza place sounds sort of small and out of the way.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s the whole point.” Jenna tossed her arms up and fell back in her chair. “Small and out of the way means cool.”

  The girls sat in silence for a moment. Elena watched as a group of older Spanish men dressed in linen suits settled at a table nearby and began a card game. Elena loved that the Spanish people made a point of dressing to go out, even if it was just to a café around the corner.

  The waiter returned with their order. Marci refused to eat deep-fried sticks of bread that were rolled in sugar, but Elena didn’t think twice about dunking the crispy-chewy batons of sweet bread in chocolate and devouring them blissfully. Elena noted that the waiter hadn’t brought her a glass and that the water was fizzy. She wasn’t in the mood to send it back, so she took a sip. It was like Coke with all the taste removed. Yuck. Who drinks plain carbonated water?

  Elena pushed the water aside then dug through her backpack to see if she had anything else to drink. Her hands traced the spine of her mom’s Spanish tour book. Elena had thrown it in there weeks ago and had nearly forgotten about it.

  “So, we agree that Jenna’s idea of a road trip is a good one, right?” Elena began diplomatically as she slapped the guidebook on the iron tabletop and leafed through the flimsy pages. The two girls agreed. “Jenna wants to have an adventure, and Marci would like to see a museum.”

  “What do you want to do?” Jenna asked Elena.

  Elena pressed her fingers against her lips, thinking. “Actually, I’d really love to see some flamenco dancing.”

  Elena passed the book to Marci, who flipped to the front and scanned through the list of Spanish cities. “What about a weekend in Madrid?” Marci asked.

  “Everyone’s going to go to Madrid.” Jenna pouted. “It’s so obvious.”

  “Exactly,” Marci countered, finding the section on Madrid and sliding the book toward Jenna. “It’s so obvious that we should definitely see it. It’s a huge city. It has everything we’re looking for: museums, discos, shopping...”

  Elena had to admit that Marci made a good case. Even Jenna had hushed. She had her nose pressed into the section highlighting Madrid.

  “Oooh,” Jenna cried, stopping at a bright picture of a matador trimmed in gold braid, swirling a red cape, “We could see a bullfight. We should get a big group together for this, you guys.”

  “Someone should probably be in charge of organizing it, if it’s going to be big,” Marci suggested.

  “Not it,” Elena called. “I mean, I’ll help out, but I shouldn’t be in charge.”

  “I’ll plan it,” Jenna took another slug of her coffee, emptying her cup. With caffeine charging through her bloodstream, Jenna began flipping through the Bible-thin pages more furiously. “There can’t be that much to it.”

  “Well, you’ll have to figure out who’s going and how much everyone is willing to pay for hotels and stuff,” Marci offered.

  “And then there’s the question of how to get there,” Elena said. “And I think they only have bullfights on certain days.”

  “You’re right. And maybe we should see if Alex and Chris want to come, too.”

  “Good idea,” Elena said. She had almost added that they should invite the boys along, but realized that Jenna was probably already thinking of that.

  Elena pulled her Spanish textbook out of her backpack, setting it on the table. “What do you think, should we get started on Spanish?”

  “I guess.” Jenna slumped forward.

  The girls studied for a while, until the sun began to set over the ocean. Elena loved that she could order something small at a Spanish café and then lounge there for hours without someone rushing to get her away from the table.

  “I have to go, you guys. I told Señora Cruz I’d be home by sundown.” Elena shoved her chair out with a scrape and picked her backpack up off the ground. “This Madrid idea sounds fun. We should talk about it again at school this week. I’ll invite Alex, and I’ll help you with the planning, J.”

  “Thanks,” Jenna returned.

  Elena waved good-bye to the two girls and headed up the Paseo de la Concha. She stopped for a breath, leaning against the white iron railing as she watched a group of boys starting a spontaneous game of soccer, or fútbol, as it was called in Europe. Before coming to Spain she’d never really noticed the beautiful simplicity of the game. Anyone could start up a spontaneous game of fútbol, and they often did, as long as they could round up something to kick and a few people willing to run around in the sun for an hour.

  Elena started back up the avenue. Now that it was October, the air was getting cooler and the sun was beginning to set earlier in the evening. That didn’t seem to stop packs of locals from enjoying the evening paseo, though. Elena ambled with the throng, taking her time getting back to the Cruz apartment.

  When she got home, Señora and Alita were sitting at the table chatting.

  “How was your studying date?” Señora Cruz asked in Spanish.

&nb
sp; “Bien, gracias,” Elena said, plunking down on the couch. Señora Cruz settled into the chair opposite her.

  “How is Jenna?” Alita asked, sitting next to Elena on the couch. “Tell her to come and visit us soon. We miss her.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Elena promised. “She’s fine. She came up with her latest plan for an adventure.”

  Señora Cruz chuckled. “What does she have in mind now?”

  “Well, we’re thinking of taking a weekend trip to Madrid.” Elena stole a glance at Señora Cruz to gauge her immediate reaction.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Madrid is a fascinating city.”

  “Can I come with you?” Alita begged, clinging to Elena’s arm. “I can be your guide. We were there last year.”

  “Alita, you can go with your own friends when you’re older.” Señora Cruz hopped up from the chair and began digging through the hall closet until she produced a photo album. “We were there for a month last year.”

  “A month. Why so long?”

  “It was our vacation.”

  “Wow, that’s a long time for a vacation. My family vacation last year was a weeklong trip to Lake Tahoe.”

  “Spanish people take at least a month for holiday. It is common.” Señora Cruz sat down on the other side of Elena and opened the leather cover of the album. “Here we are at the Puerta del Sol. You should definitely see this.”

  Alita leaned in to inspect a photo of herself in front of a fountain.

  “So you don’t have a problem with my going to Madrid for the weekend?” Elena prodded.

  “As long as your parents say it is all right, and you are going with a group of friends, I think it would be a good experience.”

  Elena smiled and looked back at the album. She was pretty sure her mom would be okay with the trip since she was the one trying to get Elena to go to Barcelona by herself.

  She was nervous about going to such a big foreign city, but as long as she had her friends with her she was pretty sure she couldn’t do anything too spacey like getting lost on the subway or misplacing her passport. Although she wasn’t entirely convinced....

  Although Elena and Alex had planned to meet a couple weekends earlier to start working on their final play assignment, Alex had flaked because the waves were so good. Then he flaked again several more times during the week. Elena had suggested meeting at the library each time. Finally, Alex explained that the library was just too constricting. He suggested they meet in the late afternoon the following Friday at the top of Monte Igueldo, the mountain that stood across the bay from Monte Urgull. Alex claimed the expansive view from the summit would serve as inspiration.

  There was a walking path that led to the top of the mountain, but Elena took the funicular instead. Mostly because she was curious to see what a funicular was. She found that it was really just a rickety train car. The thing that made it a funicular and not a mere train was the fact that it was tugged by a cable up the mountainside. She climbed aboard and let the cliff-climbing train lurch her toward the summit. The funicular was slow, but it was easier than walking. The Cruzes were always telling her to walk everywhere. “It is only a ten-minute walk; it is good for you,” they would say. She had begun to notice that to the Cruzes, everything was a ten-minute walk—whether it actually took five minutes or a half hour.

  Elena disembarked the funicular at a circular track at the top of the mountain. The paved platform spread out to the edges of cliffs that were hedged in by short cement barriers. She could see immediately that there was a panoramic view of the entire city, and beyond.

  “Wow,” Elena exclaimed as she walked up to Alex, who was staring out at the ocean. “This view is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it awesome?” He peered over the ledge with her.

  From Monte Igueldo’s perspective, her usual view of San Sebastián was inverted. Instead of floating out in the distance, Santa Clara Island sat just beyond her reach. Beyond the humpback of the island lay the ocean-front buildings, and above them stood the oversized ivory statue of Jesus watching over everything from its perch on top of Monte Urgull. Stretched back even farther was the gentle upward slope of town and even more mountains beyond it, crowned with lavender strips of clouds.

  “Okay, you were right,” Elena acknowledged. “If we aren’t inspired here, then we won’t be inspired anywhere.”

  “Told ya.” Alex smiled. He took pride in knowing the landscape as well as any local. He was constantly exploring, seeking a location more interesting or beautiful than the last.

  They laid out a blanket and settled onto the ground, and Elena dug through her backpack, pulling out a notebook filled with story sketches. After her encouraging meeting with Ms. B a few weeks before, she’d begun collecting ideas as they surfaced in her mind. Alex didn’t appear to have a backpack with him, or even a sheet of paper or a pencil.

  “Okay, why don’t we get started,” she suggested. “I wrote down some ideas. Did you brainstorm anything?”

  “I told you, Elena, my ideas come to me spontaneously. My idea factory never lets me down,” he said, tapping on his forehead.

  “Okay, why don’t you switch that idea factory into high gear and show me what it can do,” she challenged.

  “Well, Ms. B wants us to write about teenagers and what they care about, right?” He stretched out on his belly and propped his head in his hands.

  “Right.”

  “Okay, let’s think about it. What are our issues?”

  She flipped to one of the pages where she’d written a few of the hurdles she and some of her friends had dealt with the previous school year. “Well, I was thinking we could write about someone’s parents getting divorced, or a kid who gets messed up on drugs, or maybe, like, an abusive relationship.”

  “Yeah, the drug thing is good.” Alex nodded. “But everyone talks about the time they almost ODed.”

  “They do?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who talks about that?” Elena didn’t know anyone who’d overdosed on anything.

  “Come on, Elena. Everyone has their ‘I almost ODed this one time’ story,” he continued, as if this were common knowledge. “I just think everyone in that class is going to write about those things. We should set ourselves apart.”

  “Set ourselves apart?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Alex was splayed across the ground with eyes so heavy-lidded he looked as if he was almost asleep. And yet there was a spark of competitive spirit somewhere deep within.

  “Yeah, I mean, you want to be picked for one of the final performances, don’t you?”

  “Definitely.”

  “So think about it.” He scrambled up into a sitting position. She could practically see the synapses in his brain firing to life. “What makes kids do all those messed-up things?”

  Elena shrugged. She didn’t understand how this was going to set them apart, but she was willing to see where Alex was heading with this.

  “They’re just trying to find their place, you know? Figure out who they are and where they belong, right?”

  Was that right? she wondered. It couldn’t possibly be that simple, and yet there was something about it that resonated.

  “Maybe it should be about a journey.” Alex squinted out at the blue Bay of Biscay, but he seemed to be concentrating on something more elusive.

  “A journey where?” she prodded.

  Alex scrunched his forehead down so that the skin between his eyes folded into deep ridges. “Maybe a journey by someone who’s adopted and is looking for his real mom,” Alex cried, sitting up quickly, his eyes shining.

  Elena had never seen him so animated. “That’s good. Maybe he’s always had questions about who he really is, and where he belongs,” she continued, feeding off his energy, “and he thinks finding his roots will be the answer.”

  “He should meet some interesting characters along the way.”

  Elena nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  “Maybe some of them knew his mom. H
e’s, like, putting together this puzzle of who he is while he’s also getting closer to finding her.”

  “Maybe he meets a girl,” Elena said. She was a sucker for a love story. “She could be, like, a real free-spirit, wanderer type.”

  “Yeah, yeah. He’s from the ‘burbs and he’s really sheltered, and she’s a city girl who helps him navigate the streets.”

  They continued to bat ideas around, and Elena scribbled them all down. With every suggestion Alex tossed out, Elena had one of her own to add. They were building off of each other’s momentum. It reminded her of the times she’d listened to Caleb’s band jamming in their garage. The guys would start out wailing on their instruments, stirring a jumble of noise. But eventually someone would pick out a melody and each instrument would fall in line with it, building on what the other had formed and creating something whole and unique.

  “This is going to be a great road-trip story,” she said after they had been working for a while.

  “Yeah,” Alex nodded. “But in the end, it’ll really be about him finding his way home. Every good journey story is about finding your way home, don’t you think? Like Odysseus in The Odyssey.” Elena didn’t answer but stared, mouth agape. Who was this guy and what had he done with the Alex she knew who slept through most of his classes and spent every spare moment exploring or catching waves?

  By the time the sun was setting, Alex’s manic energy had begun to wane. He leaned back on the blanket, propping himself on his elbows.

  “Well, I think we’ve got some great stuff so far,” he said.

  “Next time we meet we should figure out an ending and then start mapping out, like, the stage direction and the dialogue and stuff,” Elena began, searching for her calendar in the scattered mess of her bag.

  “Yeah, I’m sort of depending on you for the dialogue,” he said, as he scrambled to stand. “We all have our strengths, and that one’s yours.”

  She began packing the stack of scribbled papers away in her notebook. She was flattered by Alex’s surprising comment that she was better at writing dialogue. Even though she would probably end up with the bulk of the detail work, it didn’t bother her. She was proud to be good at something.