With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo

 

Arrival

The moment the wheels land on the tarmac, I let go of the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. It’s afternoon here, six hours ahead of Philly, and from the airplane windows as we landed I got a view of the city of Madrid: big city blocks and red-roofed houses.

Next to me, Amanda squeezes my hand. Richard squeezes hers. Throughout the flight the whole class kept getting up and talking to one another, walking down the aisles in our socks, and probably being way too Philly for a flight to Europe, but none of us cared. I was able to sit next to Malachi and nap on his shoulder throughout the flight, but the flight attendant had people return to their assigned seats for the landing.

We are giddy as a bunch of little kids in a brand-new playground. Some of us, like me, are on a plane for the first time in our lives. The airplane food wasn’t as bad as people make it out to seem. And the flight attendants were super sweet. They even giggled when Malachi jokingly asked for a white wine with his dinner, although at Chef Ayden’s loud “Young man,” from a couple of rows back, they quickly wiped the smiles off their faces, although their eyes still twinkled.

Getting our suitcases is a hot mess because some people (Pretty Leslie) thought it was a good idea to bring two suitcases and a duffel bag, although we’re only here a week. We have to wait for the luggage and then we move through customs. Chef walks around counting us over and over again as if one of us might have decided this was a bad idea and climbed back onto the plane. Malachi leans against the wall with me as we wait for everyone else, and kicks my foot gently.

“We’re here,” he says, and then smiles.

“We’re almost here,” I say back, and I know my smile matches his. We still have a bus to take to Sevilla. But still, we are in Spain. Somehow, we made it happen. I look around at all of us, a colorful group of Americans. Not just our skin, although we are colorful in that sense too, but just everything about us. The fitteds, the Jordans and Foams, the cutoff jeans, the bright lipstick and fresh sweats would make you think we were getting off a video shoot and not an eight-hour flight. We look beautiful and hood and excited to see the world, and none of us are hiding from this world seeing us. All of us shining despite what it took us to earn our way here.