With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo
Invitations
“Hello, Santi?” I raise an eyebrow and stare at my cell phone. I don’t usually answer unknown numbers, but I was so busy organizing the groceries for Angelica’s dinner I answered without thinking.
“Malachi?”
The laugh he gives after isn’t his usual suave one and I wonder if he’s nervous. For some reason I feel myself soften at the thought of Malachi anxiously dialing my number.
I glance around the kitchen, knowing it’s the most private place in the apartment unless I want to hide in the bathroom. I pull out the small chair from the corner table and sit. “What number are you calling me from?”
“It’s the house phone at my aunt’s. My cell is acting up and I wanted to speak to you.”
Oh. I wonder if I would have picked up if I’d known it was Malachi. I picture how he looked at the Burger Joint when Pretty Leslie kept putting me on the spot. “Wassup, Malachi?”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. “I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. For Leslie. She was out of line. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”
“Not a problem. I don’t feel uncomfortable for working, at a food spot or otherwise. I’ve had a lot of things to feel ashamed about and I’ve learned most of them are other people’s problems, not mine.”
We’re both quiet for a moment. I hadn’t meant to say that. For some reason, I always say more than I need to whenever Malachi is the one listening.
He clears his throat. “I was hoping I could see you. That we could talk?”
“What, Pretty Leslie is busy?” As soon as I say it, I wish I could bite my tongue. It’s not my business what he does with Pretty Leslie. I shouldn’t have even mentioned her at all. See? My mouth out here sprinting across every yard line and thinking it runs itself.
Malachi is quiet a long moment. And when he speaks, he sounds like his familiar self for the first time during this conversation. “What, you jealous? I thought we weren’t even friends.”
“Nope, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just don’t want you feeling like you’re out here juggling girls. If you are trying to get with her, I hope you aren’t trying to get with me.”
“I don’t feel that way at all. I’m not trying to juggle anyone. I don’t know why Leslie acts the way she does around you, but she’s different with me. She’s my friend. That’s all.”
I shake my head. Dudes can be real oblivious sometimes. “That might be all it is for you, but trust me, I’ve known about Pretty Leslie since middle school. She isn’t nice to people for the sake of it. She likes you.”
Malachi sighs. “And I like her. As a friend. She’s gone through a lot in her life and I think we relate to one another, but I’m not trying to get with her like that. So, can I? Kick it with you, I mean.”
There’s a lot more I want to ask about his relationship with Pretty Leslie. Has she gone through a lot? Every time I see her she’s pouting and flipping her bangs, and seems like the only care she has is what nail color she should wear next. But against my better judgment I reply, “I’m home with my daughter and grandmother all day. Cooking for an event this evening.”
“Maybe I can come by and help? Everyone needs a sous chef sometimes, right, Chef Santi?”