Acapulco Nights (12 page)

“Where have you been?”

I sat by myself in an almost-empty university cafeteria. A plate of half-eaten French fries and an open text book were on the table in front of me when Janice sat down.

“Around.” I picked at my fries and tried to concentrate on the reading assignment I should have finished days ago.

“You know we have a field trip tomorrow, right?” She took one of my fries and dipped it in the splotch of ketchup on my plate.

That girl could eat French fries until her eyes fell out and would never gain an ounce.

“Yeah, I know. Six a.m. at the school entrance.” I rubbed my eyes. It was after ten o’clock already, and I wanted to finish the last ten pages of reading before I went to bed.

Once a month our professor-in-residence from Vincent College scheduled a weekend field trip for all the study-abroad students to various places of interest within a few hours’ drive of Puebla. Professor Burnham, an aging art history professor, was the current teacher-in-residence. The class was a required part of our study while enrolled at the university.

This weekend we were off to Teotihuacán, the famous Aztec pyramids right outside of Mexico City. The pyramids were the most touristy destination we would be visiting the whole school year, and I wasn’t looking forward to spending the day dodging tourists and the Mexican street vendors hawking their souvenirs.

“You wanna come back to the dorm with me? Chill for a bit? Maybe watch some TV?” She sounded lonely and a bit forlorn.

“I really have to finish this reading first.” I stuck my nose deep in my book, hoping to give her the hint to leave me alone. “I have to get caught up on all my homework.”

She tipped the top edge of my book down, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe you should try staying on campus one of these weekends. I mean, do you have to spend every single waking hour either talking about Joaquin or taking the bus to meet up with Joaquin?” Letting go of my book, she snagged another fry off my plate.

“Why don’t you get some of your own fries?”

“Kitchen’s closed.” She took a big bite of French fry. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I can keep up with my assignments.”

“Then why are you here half-asleep trying to read sixteenth century poetry?”

I closed my book, pushed it to one side. “What’s up with you?” The annoyance in my voice echoed through the quiet cafeteria.

“What’s up with
me
?” She lowered her voice to an irritated whisper. “You’re the one who’s got issues. What exactly is going on with you guys, anyway? You’ve been attached at the hip since October. We signed up for this so we could do something adventurous, meet new people, get some culture.”

“That was why
you
decided to sign up.”

A hurt look crossed Janice’s face. “I thought we were going to do this together. I thought—“

“Well, you thought wrong.” I shoved my books to the side. “I can’t help it if I met Joaquin. I can’t help what I feel for him.”

“What
do
you feel for him, Suze?”

Janice looked me right in the eye, waiting for the truth, and I couldn’t give it to her. I couldn’t own up to the seriousness of my relationship. What was I so scared of, anyway? That she would tell someone? That she would take it away from me somehow?

I wimped out. “I don’t know, Janice. We have a good time together. And my Spanish has gotten so much better being around him all the time. He’s my own personal tutor.”

“Your own tutor?”

“Yeah.” Once the lies started coming, I couldn’t stop. “Joaquin’s great and all, but, face it, we’re going home in May. Back to the States. Back to Vincent. Joaquin’s a lot of fun.”

“And he’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t hurt any. What’s wrong with having a little fling?”

“I wish we could spend more time together. Just you and me. I miss you, Suze.”

I pushed my half-empty plate of fries right under her nose as a peace offering. “How about this? On the field trip this weekend, it’s just you and me. No boys. And no talking about boys. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Really?” Her face beamed, and she swiped a few fries off of the offered plate.

“Really.”

“Well, then, let’s try to hike the pyramids—all the way to the top!” She said this as if she were discussing reaching the summit of Mount Everest, a French fry aloft in her hand like the Statue of Liberty holding her torch.

“Do you have any idea how high those things are? Did you read any of the materials from Professor Burnham? They’re ancient Stairmasters.”

“Oh, they aren’t
that
high.” This, coming from Janice, the woman built to run super-marathons. She took a bite of her torch-fry. “Anyway, it would be good for us. All that climbing. And think of the pictures we could take from up there.”

“Yeah, of all the smog over the city. Sounds lovely.”

This time Janice reached out for my soda and took a sip, “Suzie, you promised we could do whatever I want, remember? When are you ever going to get this chance again?”

I thought about what she’d said, but she had no idea why that question made me pause. Joaquin and I only had a few months left to spend with together before I had to go back home. I didn’t want to contemplate leaving in May. I pushed it as far to the back of my mind as I could.

“Will you take my picture for me on top of the Pyramid of the Sun?”

I took the last French fry from the plate. “You betcha.”

*

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” I asked Janice as we stepped into the guard shack separating the girls’ dormitory from the rest of campus. It was an armed fortress with high brick walls sporting ironwork spikes all along the top. The only way in and out of the girls’ dormitory and the courtyard surrounding it was through the guard shack.

“Bright and early.” Janice winked at me and hurried past the guard’s desk to the courtyard door.

I yawned at the thought. Midnight approached and our bus left campus at seven in the morning. As I crossed through the guard shack, a piece of white paper on the bulletin board caught my eye. “Sra. Eisenhart” had been scribbled on it in red marker.

“
Señorita
Eisenhart?” I said to the guard sitting behind the counter, pointing at the piece of paper behind him.

He spun his chair around, snatched the paper off the board, and dropped it on the counter. Guess someone was unhappy he’d pulled a Friday night shift.

“Gracias.” I unfolded the note – a phone message from Joaquin.

Llámame. Te quiero.

He wanted me to call him. The time on the note indicated he had called a couple of hours earlier.

I held it to my lips, thinking.

A bank of phones sat on the counter by the guard. I set the note on the counter, picked up a receiver, and dialed Joaquin’s number.

One ring, and then “
Bueno
?”

I’d recognize that deep, sexy voice anywhere.

“It’s me, Joaquin.”

“
Querida. Mi bonita
, Suzie.”

“I miss you. It was nice to see your note waiting for me when I came in.”

“Where have you been?”

“Studying.”

“I wish you were here with me in the city. Do you have to go on that trip tomorrow?”

“It’s required as part of the program.”

“Where are you they taking you?”

“Teotihuacán.”

“You’re going to the pyramids?”

“Yeah. All day.” I fiddled with the note on the counter in front of me, folding and refolding it.
Te quiero
. He loved me.

“I could meet you there.”

“What?” I dropped the note.

“I could meet you there. Don’t you want to see me?”

“Of course I do, but—”

“Then, say you’ll meet me. We could spend the whole day there together.”

“But Joaquin, the rest of my group.” I thought of Janice and the plans we’d made that evening.

“You could sneak away.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Yes, you could. No one would notice.”

“Janice would.” More likely she would be crushed if I sneaked off to be with Joaquin.

“She is your friend, no? She wouldn’t say anything. I want to see you.”

“Joaquin.” My insides quivered at the idea of being next to him, up close against his body.

“I have to see you,
querida
. Please.” The urgency in his voice caused me to pause.

He needed me. He wanted me.

“I guess I’ll think of something.” I closed my eyes and the guilt kicked in the minute I said it. How could I do that to Janice? But I didn’t even try to take back the words. I thought about my friend for a few short seconds, and then her image disappeared. I could see her any time. We could find another day to do something together.

“Meet me near the Visitor’s Center.”

“All right. At nine?”

“Nine o’clock. I’ll be there.”

“Good night.”

“
Te quiero
.”

“
Te quiero, también
.”

I’d made a promise to Janice not an hour ago, and already I was breaking it. The social, pretty college girl was dumping the shy, bookish friend for the chance to spend time with a good-looking guy. The thought seemed cruel, like the plot to a bad teenage TV drama.

She’ll understand
. That’s what I kept telling myself all the way back to the dorm.
She’ll understand
.

*

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the blinds covering my dorm room window. I could barely open my eyes. Too early to be up on a Saturday.

“Suzie?” Mercedes, my roommate, still lay in her bed.

“Yeah?” I checked my pack for my water bottle and trip notebook.

“Your
novio
called last night.” Her voice was bitter. She had never reconciled the fact that Joaquin had fallen for me instead of her.

“I know. I got his message. Any others you got stashed away in there?” I pointed at her locked closet.

She aggravated me lately. Several times, she had pulled messages from Joaquin off the notice board and hid them. I’m not sure if she was jealous or just disliked me, but every now and again I found notes torn to pieces in the bottom of her closet. But I had no one to complain to. The guard down at the entrance had no obligation to make sure I got my messages.

But most roommates weren’t conniving little bitches either.

She gave me a disdainful look and then sat up in bed, her beautiful thick hair looking better than it had any right to at seven a.m. on a Saturday morning.

“He called me, too, you know,” she said sweetly, twisting a strand of her long, dark hair. “I told him there were plenty of other boys on the tour tomorrow who could watch out for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why would Joaquin call you?”

“You don’t believe me?” She stopped twirling her hair. “He’s my friend, remember? I knew him well before you ever met him.”

“He’s not your friend anymore.” I zipped my backpack closed. “You’re a liar. He never called you.”

“What if I told you that Joaquin was in love with me?” She smoothed the blanket around her legs. “And not with you.”

“You’re crazy, Mercedes.” This girl had no shame. What would she tell me next? That they were running off to Vegas together? “You might have had a crush on him in high school, but that’s it. He told me all about it. You two were barely even friends.”  I straightened the sheets on my bed.

“Is that what he told you?” Her voice cracked.

I looked up at her and thought I saw something in her eyes for a moment, but then they hardened into brown pebbles.

“He’s a liar,” she said. “Ask him.”

I sighed in irritation.

“You ask him,” she insisted.

“As if I care what you believe. Joaquin can barely even tolerate you.” I fluffed my pillow with a little more energy than needed. “And you tell me he’s in love with you? God, how sad, Mercedes.” I grabbed my backpack and stepped out of our room, slamming the door behind me.

“You ask him, Suzie! He loves
me
,” Mercedes’s muffled voice called out.

What a freak. She had been nothing but trouble since Joaquin and I started dating. He only had eyes for me, and she couldn’t stand it.

After a few missed phone calls and a bouquet of red roses that ‘accidentally’ ended up in the trash, Joaquin and I both learned that relying on Mercedes for anything was impossible. And now she believed Joaquin was in love with her? Would it ever stop? How ridiculous.

Exiting the suite, I tried to push Mercedes and her manipulations out of my head.