Spain or Shine Page 8

  “My father has a sailboat. I go sailing sometimes,” he said, as he walked back into the room and she followed.

  “Oh my God, you have a boat,” Jenna screeched as she joined them in the room. “That is so cool.”

  “Well, I can take you sometime. We can go out next weekend, if you are available.”

  Jenna raised an eyebrow and looked at Elena. Elena nodded to show that she was interested.

  “Saturday’s good. I’m so impressed that you have a boat,” Jenna said, nudging Miguel in the ribs. “Don’t you think that’s awesome, Elena?”

  “Awesome.” Elena nodded. Jenna looked at her for a moment, perhaps willing her to say something more, but Elena’s mind went blank.

  “Well, it is, what is the word?” He closed his eyes to search the English side of his brain. “Uh, humble? And it is actually my father’s.”

  Jenna worked out the details with Miguel as Elena stood by quietly. He seemed so nice. Elena reminded herself of what Gwen was always telling her about having too much faith in people right away.

  “Elena,” she’d say, “you can’t give your heart away so quickly. That’s the surest way to get it broken.”

  “I should get back downstairs,” Miguel said finally.

  “Yeah, we’d hate to get you in trouble,” Elena said.

  Miguel shut the patio doors, closed the curtains, and smoothed down the bedspread. On the way out he straightened the magazines on the desk even though no one had touched them. Elena smiled softly. She had almost done the same thing.

  Miguel spirited them down the service staircase and then snuck them out of the lobby when he was sure the manager at the front desk was occupied.

  Once Elena and Jenna had walked back outside, Jenna looped her arm through Elena’s.

  “You do like him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I just never would have known if you hadn’t told me. You barely said a word to him.”

  “Jenna, I don’t think Miguel even cared that I was there,” Elena said. “I think he made the boating date as a way to spend more time with you.”

  “No way.” Jenna waved off the idea. “Enough boy talk. Let’s go do some window-shopping.”

  Elena wondered if Jenna had brushed her suggestion off as easily as it seemed. It was hard for her to imagine anyone giving up Miguel so easily, especially someone like Jenna. And she couldn’t tell if Jenna really thought Elena had any kind of chance with him. She was pretty sure Jenna was too nice to say, “Yeah you’re right. He’d never be interested in you. What was I thinking?” Regardless, she appreciated Jenna’s encouragement.

  To: dramagirl23@email.com

  From: LanieH@email.com

  Subject: Boy update

  Hi Claire,

  How is your week going? I realized today that it’s probably almost time for the back-to-school dance. You’ll have to fill me in on all the good gossip.

  Today my friend Jenna and I were over at the Maria Cristina, this fancy hotel in town, and we “accidentally” ran into Mr. Beautiful, a.k.a. Miguel. And guess what? He asked us to go out on his boat with him next weekend! I feel sort of conflicted about the trip. I’m excited about going out into the harbor because boats and the ocean seem to play such a huge role in the lives of the locals here. And I have to admit that I’m excited about spending time with Miguel. But, I’m not so thrilled about watching him flirt with Jenna all day.

  Even though I feel like I don’t have a chance with this guy, I really like being around him. I like the way my name sounds in his Spanish accent—the way it’s probably supposed to sound. And the way he talks is really polite without sounding snooty. If nothing else, the trip will be a chance to stare at Miguel for a few hours, right? Oh, and to see San Sebastián from the ocean, of course.

  I miss you. Write soon!

  Love, E

  To: LanieH@email.com

  From: dramagirl23@email.com

  Subject: The San Jose Blues

  Hey Chica,

  This Miguel guy sounds fabulous! I’m sorry to hear he likes your friend, though you might not be able to tell just from meeting him a couple of times. I think you should just relax about the boating trip. At the very least this guy is someone new to take your mind off Joe. You could have a great time. Who knows, maybe he’ll end up being a great friend. (And you know, sometimes friendship blooms into something more.)

  School started a couple days ago. Don’t worry, you’re not missing much. It’s all the same old people doing the same old things. Yesterday, when I was shopping for an outfit to wear to the back-to-school dance, I ran into your sister at the mall. Don’t worry, I’ll definitely fill you in on any dance gossip.

  I’m glad to hear you like the playwriting class. Are you picking up any good acting tips? Be sure to pass them on to your poor friend Claire. On second thought, don’t tell me about it. It will just make me more jealous than I already am. I really miss you, Elena. I wish you could have been with me for the first day back at school. It was strange not to have you around to gossip with. I miss you tons and tons.

  Keep me posted on your exciting life in Spain!

  Love, C

  The next day was much like the one that preceded it—sunny but a little cool, with a soft breeze feathering the ocean. Elena had just sat down for the start of her play production class, but she was staring out the window and daydreaming about what it would be like if Miguel were her boyfriend. She imagined their sailing out to sea on his boat at sunset.

  “Elena, please see me after class,” Ms. B said in a hushed tone as she passed Elena’s desk on her way to the front of the classroom, breaking Elena from her little midday fantasy. Elena’s heart thumped inside her chest. She wondered what she could possibly have done to warrant an after-class meeting with the teacher. She nudged Alex in the ribs, causing him to snort and scoot up in his chair.

  “Ms. B wants to talk to me after class,” she whispered.

  “So?” he grumbled.

  “So, that’s not good,” she tried her best to talk without moving her lips.

  “How do you know it’s not good?”

  She cut her eyes at him. Was he kidding? Being called to speak with the teacher after class was never good.

  “Relax, Elena. Teachers love kids like you.” Alex yawned and squashed his hat down low over his eyes, slumping back down into the crook of his chair.

  “Not really,” Elena mumbled. Compared to Jeremy and Gwen, Elena always felt she was a disappointment to most of her teachers.

  “I hope everyone did last night’s reading.” Ms. B set down her roll sheet and sorted through several play texts. “Now don’t get frustrated if your writing is not up to these standards.” She gave them all a thoughtful, I’ve-been-there smile. “If you’re going to attempt something, no matter what it is, it’s worth taking a look at the best in that field.”

  At least Elena had done the reading. Maybe she could dazzle Ms. B with her deep insights into the plot and characters, and perhaps whatever crime she had unwittingly committed would be magically erased from her rap sheet.

  “Can anyone tell me what some of the themes are in The Seagull?” she asked, tapping the front cover of the Chekhov play and settling down on the corner of her desk.

  Elena had some ideas, but she hesitated. Before she could get her hand up, Dylan’s arm darted into the air.

  “Yes, Dylan.”

  “The pursuit of a meaningful life and an artist’s role in life.” Dylan sat up straight, knowing she’d said the right thing.

  “Yes. Excellent,” Ms. B beamed at Dylan.

  Elena slunk down in her seat. Ms. B certainly wasn’t like other teachers. She swore and acted out scenes from the plays they were reading for homework. As long as Elena stayed out of the way and under the radar, most teachers left her alone and gave her decent grades. But Elena had a feeling Ms. B loved kids like Dylan who were cool and sharply opinionated.

  Elena wondered what it could be that set Ms. B
against her. Maybe it was just that her conflict piece was so generally bad that Ms. B had given up on marking Elena’s paper, and now she had to talk to her face-to-face in order to outline every mistake she’d made. She glanced at the clock as the second hand clunked along one centimeter at a time. This was going to be a long class.

  “Okay, everyone, class is almost over. I can see you guys squirming to get out of here,” Ms. B joked, drawing a round of chuckles from the class. “But I wanted to remind you that I’ll be giving you instructions for the final play assignment soon. Next week we’re going to be forming groups for that project, so you should start thinking about who you want to work with. If you don’t have partners lined up, that’s okay. I can match you with someone. But you have the option to work with one or two people you feel comfortable with.”

  Elena glanced at Dylan. She was sure Dylan already had some brilliant ideas rattling around in her brain and wondered if she had already paired up with someone for the project. A girl like Dylan would have her choice of partners.

  “Remember, I’ll be picking the top two plays, which will be staged and performed at the end of the semester. This is a big deal, you guys. Not only will you bask in the glow of staging your art for the public and your classmates, which should be motivation enough,” Ms. B paused dramatically, allowing them to picture the glory of it, “but you will also get a pass on the written final. In other words, an automatic A.”

  A round of whoops was loosed in the classroom. Coming from a teacher’s mouth, there were few words sweeter than “automatic A.”

  Finally, class was over. Elena took her time shuffling papers and placing her books and binder in her backpack as Ms. B handed back the first assignments. It took a while because Ms. B had a comment for each student as he or she collected a graded paper and then passed through the door. The last student collected his paper from Ms. B and then wandered out into the sunshine.

  Finally, Ms. B looked up from the one remaining student paper, which Elena assumed was hers.

  “Hi, Elena. Please sit.”

  Elena drew a chair up to the side of Ms. B’s desk and sat down. She couldn’t read Ms. B’s expression. “I read your conflict dramatization,” Ms. B said.

  Elena quickly looked down at her lap.

  “Elena, have you taken many writing classes?”

  “Just regular classes at school. Is that what you mean?”

  “Well, I guess so,” Ms. B leaned back. “I’m just wondering where you learned to write like this.”

  What did she mean? How did she write, exactly? Why wasn’t Ms. B just getting to the point? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it, Elena screamed inside her head.

  “I guess I don’t understand,” Elena ventured.

  “Elena, this is excellent work,” Ms. B said, leaning forward across her desk and forcing Elena to meet her gaze. “Your abilities exceed most people your age. I was just wondering if you’ve taken extra classes in this area.”

  Elena was stunned silent. She looked at Ms. B and realized why she couldn’t place Ms. B’s expression earlier. Ms. B wasn’t talking to Elena as a teacher; she was talking to her like a mentor.

  “Thank you.” Elena managed to force the words out of her mouth. “But I haven’t taken any extra classes or anything.”

  “Well, you’re a natural,” Ms. B shot her a broad grin. “You do write on your own though, don’t you?”

  “I mess around sometimes, but I’ve never really finished anything.” Elena felt as if she was confessing a secret. She’d always made up little stories. For a while she kept beginnings of screenplays in a journal, but she was always worried one of her brothers would find it.

  “Well, I wanted to let you know you’re heading in the right direction,” Ms. B said, slipping back into teacher mode. Although her version of teacher mode was still pretty relaxed and cool. “This doesn’t mean I don’t think there are areas for improvement, especially if you’re interested in winning one of the top spots among the final play assignments. I think you have a good chance, but this year’s class is a particularly talented pool of students. You’ll do well if you really focus on the comments I made at the end of your paper and work on making those changes.”

  Elena realized her shoulders were still so tense they were practically touching her ears. She let them fall and felt lighter than she had in days.

  “Thanks, Ms. B.”

  Ms. B handed her the paper with her name in the corner. “You got an A, by the way, in case you hadn’t already figured that out.” Ms. B laughed. “Great job, Elena. Please come see me if you have any questions along the way.”

  “I will,” Elena nodded vigorously. She gawked at the A written in bold red ink, and the tight slanted letters just below it that spelled out, Excellent work!!! She’d never been singled out in school before. Jeremy was the stellar student among her siblings, not under-the-radar Elena.

  “Thanks a lot for the encouragement, Ms. B. I’ll definitely take the final project seriously and work hard. I can’t wait to get started.” She knew she sounded like sort of a kiss-up, but she didn’t care. Her words were sincere.

  She grabbed her backpack from the floor, and slipped the straps over her shoulders. “See you in class tomorrow,” Elena called.

  “See you then, Elena,” Ms. B returned. “And just because we had this little talk doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.” Ms. B cocked her head to the side and grinned. “I’m going to hold you to a higher standard now. Don’t disappoint me.”

  Elena nodded. Although Ms. B’s words probably should have made her nervous, instead they stirred something in her that made her want to prove herself even more. It was as though a part of herself that had always been there was just waking up from a long hibernation.

  Chapter Seven

  “You should take a jacket,” Señor Cruz called in Spanish from his spot on the couch as Elena hustled past him toward the front door. She was on her way to meet Jenna and Miguel for their boat outing. She was full of nerves and jittery excitement about the prospect of spending an afternoon on the water with Miguel.

  Elena stopped in front of Señor Cruz. “The only jacket I have is a wool peacoat,” she said.

  “No, no. That won’t do. You need something lightweight that will keep the water off.” He pulled himself off the couch and walked over to the hall closet. “Here. This is perfect.” He held out a sleek black jacket. “This is Señora Cruz’s. She won’t mind if you borrow it for the afternoon.”

  Elena took the coat from Señor Cruz and tried it on. It fit amazingly well, and nipped in a little at the waist.

  “Muchas gracias, Señor Cruz.”

  “Just remember to keep down whenever the boom comes around. You don’t want to get knocked in the head.”

  She promised she would be careful and suddenly felt as if she was home, promising her own parents that she would be safe and follow all their instructions. She guessed parents were parents everywhere, but she appreciated Señor Cruz’s concern.

  “Adios, Señor,” she called as she headed out the door and turned down the street toward the marina.

  Elena ran into Jenna on her way to the harbor.

  “Cute jacket,” Jenna said, giving the hem a tug.

  “It’s Señora Cruz’s.”

  “Not that you’re going to need it, though,” Jenna said, glancing up at the blue sky. “Hey, there he is. In front of the boat launch at eleven A.M. exactly.” Jenna lowered her voice. “He’s a man of his word. Now, what’s cuter than that?”

  “Hola,” Miguel said as the girls approached. “Elena and Jenna, do you remember my cousin, Borja?”

  The girls said hello.

  “Follow me,” Miguel instructed. Elena, Jenna, and Borja trailed him across the dock. Elena could see water sloshing through the wooden slats below their feet.

  “Here she is,” Miguel declared, stopping in front of a sailboat with the words LA MARIANA in meticulously stenciled letters across the back. The letters were s
o slick and vivid it looked as though it had been touched up only days earlier. That was the extent of the boat’s painstaking care. The bulk of the vessel was rough and worn. The faded white paint was chipped in places, and fingers of rust stretched out across the metal piping. It was exactly how Miguel had described it—humble.

  “Please get in,” Miguel offered as he set about unwinding the ropes from their moorings. Borja stepped in first and turned toward Jenna.

  “Tenga cuidado, amiga,” he warned, pointing to the rocking rim of the boat. Borja held his hand out for Jenna to grasp as she wobbled onto the boat.

  Elena climbed into the boat unassisted while Miguel handed out life vests, and began to run through some instructions. The only one Elena really paid attention to was the one that echoed what Señor Cruz had said about ducking from the heavy metal boom as it swung around to the other side of the boat any time Miguel said “Down.”

  Miguel joined them in the belly of the boat, and within minutes he had maneuvered the boat through the marina and they were tacking across the bay. Elena turned her back to the wind and watched the retreating harbor, where colorful sailboats lofted on the waves. Behind the boats stood a row of centuries-old apartment buildings built into the side of the mountain, rising up behind all of it.

  “Okay, now, everyone down,” Miguel hollered over the sound of the waves. Elena got a spray of seawater in her face just before she bent down. She leaned as far down as she could so that her face was almost even with her feet in the damp floor of the vessel. She wasn’t taking any chances.

  “You can sit up now.” Miguel laughed, yanking her up playfully by the nylon strap of her life vest. “You really haven’t been on many sailboats, have you? You’re funny.” Borja and Jenna chuckled, too. Jenna winked at her as if to say this was a good sign, though Elena wasn’t sure being the clown was the best way to win a guy’s heart.

  They cruised across the calm bay. Miguel maneuvered them deftly around two other boats, one smaller and the other larger than LA MARIANA. Elena was starting to get the appeal of this tattered little boat. It was weathered but sturdy. Miguel seemed to know its every creak and groan.