“Hey is that from Lord of the Rings?” I asked. “I’ve been trying to read the book before the movie comes out.”
Alyssa laughed but didn’t think I was a giant loser talking about fantasy books. “It’s my last name. Spanish, I think. My family’s Filipino.”
That’s the moment Alyssa and I discovered that we were basically the same people. She was born somewhere else and immigrated to New York when she was a kid, just like I did. The only difference is that the school board made her repeat a grade. She used to be fluent in Tagalog, but after she got teased by the other kids for it, she didn’t want to speak it anymore, which makes me sad. It almost feels like having to cut off a part of yourself, a tongue maybe, just to fit in. I wish things weren’t like that.
Technically we’re the same age, but she’s one year behind. She transferred to Queens Village because she was getting bullied so badly at her private Catholic school with girls throwing literal rocks at her. She has a pretty wicked scar on the side of her temple where one hit her. Also, she says wicked a lot and I’ve decided to use it. She also introduced me to this amazing show BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER. But I have to go to her house to watch it because we don’t have cable and my grandma would freak out about me watching a show with witches and vampires.
I don’t know what I’d do without Alyssa. She even came in and helped with Gabby’s quinceañera. Getting her to help was about the only helpful thing I did, really. Three months before the party, one of Gabriela’s friends left without a word. She just stopped showing up to school and answering Gabby’s calls. I overheard my mom and tía Felicia whispering in the kitchen that the girl’s family got deported and thank God that it would never happen to us. I spent the whole night thinking about it. How was my tía so sure? When ñaño Toto came home that night at MIDNIGHT, I asked him why people got deported. He said that it was when people overstayed their visas or came to this country without one.
“Did we have visas?” I asked him.
I noticed how tired he looked from his long commute. Ñaño Toto is really my uncle. He’s my mother’s youngest brother. Ecuadorians use the words ñaño and ñaña for their siblings. Since my mom leaves for work at five in the morning and comes home barely in time to eat dinner and fall asleep while watching her telenovelas, my uncle Toto (Antonio) helps take care of me and Lily. He’s been happier lately, dancing around to his favorite Freestyle and house music. Not that he was miserable before but being a social worker for little kids in bad situations really takes a toll on him.
He said, “We did come here on visas. But we were lucky. My aunt Maria and her husband have lived here since 1976 and they were able to send an invitation to my mom. My mom then got invitations for my sisters and me.”
The whole thing about invitations was so confusing. It’s like being a citizen was an exclusive club. I still couldn’t understand why we got lucky or why Gabby’s friend wasn’t. Suddenly that citizenship diploma in my closet felt different. It was like my permission slip proving that I was allowed to be here forever.
It seemed almost silly to be excited over a party after something like that had happened to her friend. But Gabby couldn’t cancel her quince. She was going to turn fifteen and had been planning hers since she was six and attended her first quinceañera. In Ecuador, the party is a neighborhood-wide ordeal. But in Queens Village, they had to rent a hall and there was a limit of people they could invite. I don’t think that I want to have one next year. My mom works like twelve hours a day to barely pay the mortgage and basics, why would I want to spend a gajillion dollars on a single party?
Gabby says it represents womanhood and family and blah blah blah. But she doesn’t understand because her dad has a job at a bank and she has both parents to take care of her. My dad is in Ecuador. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t feel like I’m missing my father at all. I have my uncle and my grandmother and my mother. My family is different than others, but they are enough. It would just be nice if my mom didn’t have to work so hard. I hope that when I’m older I can get a good enough job to help her so she can just relax.
Okay, yes, I’m stalling because I’m afraid to write about the thing that I did.
When Gabby needed to replace one of the members of her “quince court,” tía Felicia suggested Horacia.
“No way,” I said.
“Why not?” Ronaldo asked. “I have to dance with her anyway.”
Gabby shook her head and smacked her teeth. “Because I don’t want her. She’s stank and rude.”
“She isn’t to me,” he countered.
“Then you should pay more attention and see how she treats other people.”
“Me,” I said. “I’m other people.”
That turned into a whole fight. But I’m glad that Gabby had my back. I only wish that things had been different and that I hadn’t ruined her party the way I did.
Alyssa just happened to be at the house when Gabby was struggling with finding a replacement for her friend. We were going to watch The Craft, which we rented at Blockbuster while my grandma was at church. “I can do it.”
“What do you know about quinceañeras?” Ronaldo asked her. I don’t know why he acted like he didn’t check out Alyssa every time she walked into a room.
Alyssa scratched her
