With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo
Hook, Line, and Sinker
My classmates are all still hyped the next day when we arrive at school. I’m glad that for the first time in a month and a half none of us have early shifts for the rest of the week.
Chef tried to cancel our lunches entirely. He told us he announced it at a staff meeting that after the Winter Dinner he’d be pulling the program, but the other teachers threw a fit, so restaurant lunches will start back up in the new year on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Anyone who shows up early to cook gets extra credit, and anyone who shows up to serve gets to keep their tips. And since I need extra money and extra credit I will be showing up as often as I can.
When we got home after the dinner, I asked ’Buela if she could lend me the money for the trip’s final deposit; I’ll put in a double shift at the Burger Joint to pay her back. But she told me she’d already spent her last disability check on bills and Christmas gifts for family back home. Not to mention, she donated the night of the Winter Dinner. She offered to return the gifts or ask a friend for help, but the look in her eyes was so sad and ashamed I patted her arm and told her I’d work it out. I thought about asking Julio for it, but when I was telling him about the dinner he cut me off to say that I inspired him and he’s sponsoring a holiday block party to raise money for the local school. I knew he’d say educating the undereducated is more important than traveling to Europe, and I wouldn’t even be able to argue.
I push these thoughts away as I’m cleaning my station. Malachi comes over and leans his elbows near my burners. “Hey, Santi. I have a hookup to some tickets for the Disney On Ice show this weekend. You wanna go?”
“Since when do you have Philly hookups?”
He smirks. “Is that a yes?”
He’s standing close to me and I wonder how he can smell so good when we’ve been sweating and dealing with food all class. “I don’t know, Malachi. I don’t really date like that, and this sounds like a date.” I wipe my area, making sure not to get too close to my burners or to Malachi—both would probably leave me singed.
“See, that’s the thing, though, this wouldn’t be a date,” he says and smiles wide, showing off all his teeth. “I can get a couple of tickets. You can invite Angelica, her girlfriend, bring little queen Emma. Even your abuela can come if that will get you to say yes.”
Dang. Malachi knows just how to get to me. Hooking up my entire family with tickets to something we’ve always seen in commercials but never in real life puts a lump in my throat. I finish with my station and grab my bag from the cubby. I clear my throat. “That’s really nice of you, Malachi. It means a lot to me. I could use some fun. What day?”
“Don’t go getting soft on me, Santi.” But he doesn’t look at me. I think we are both so used to dissing each other that in this moment of sincerity we feel shy. “The tickets are for this Saturday.”
“I’ll organize my people. You want help cleaning your station? Chef will get angry if he sees you haven’t unplugged your burners.”
But Malachi waves me off. “Nah, you already made the kid’s day.”