Quince Clash (12 page)

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Authors: Malín Alegría

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“Security!” Fabi shouted. There was no way she was going to let her grandmother ruin her party. Not now! Not when it was going so well. But nobody moved. Were they all just as shocked as her?

Orlando stepped back, blocking the blows with his arm. He had edged back to the windows. Her
chambelán
was trapped, and Alpha continued after him as if he was some hunted animal. Fabi's
abuelita
raised the broom high over her head and Orlando turned to Fabi. He blew her a kiss, and then jumped through the window.

Fabi screamed. There was a crash, and shards of broken glass went everywhere. This was horrible. Fabi rolled onto her knees. Alexis was at her side and helped her up.

“What was that?” Alexis cried.

Fabi shook her head. They ran to the window, where their
abuelita
was standing with a smug look on her face. Fabi leaned out the broken window and noticed the drop. It had to be at least three stories. But it was dark outside and there was no sign of Orlando. No one could make that jump without breaking something, she thought. But he was gone. It was as if he just disappeared into the night.

“Abuelita,” Fabi cried, close to hysterics. “What did you do?”

Her grandmother made the sign of the cross in front of her. “I'm sorry,
mija
. I had to do it.”

“Abuelita, he was my
chambelán
! You can't be doing that.”

“I had to,” her
abuelita
stated again confidently. “He was the devil.”

Fabi couldn't believe her grandmother's crazy antics. This was too far! “No, he wasn't. He was a nice guy. He was just helping me out.”

“No,
mija
.” Her grandmother shook her head sadly. “That was
el diablo
. I swear on my life, that was him. You don't know better because you're so young and vulnerable. But I know. At first I was trying to see his legs. The devil can't transform his feet, you know?” She made hand gestures as if that would help. “He has one that looks like a rooster's claw and the other is like one of Grandpa's goat's cloven hooves. But then I saw you both dancing and swirling.”

“That's how people dance nowadays.” Fabi was exhausted and definitely didn't have the energy to explain current dance trends to her grandmother.

“Mija
, you two were spinning. Spinning above the floor in the air. If I didn't break the spell, he would have spirited you away into hell. Is that what you want, you ungrateful child? Next time I'll let him take you!”

Fabi groaned in frustration. There was no talking to her grandmother when she got like this. Nothing was going to convince her other-wise. Fabi turned back to the party. Everyone was staring at her in shock. She shrugged.

“He had to go,” she said to the crowd. Fabi sighed. Well, at least it wasn't a total disaster, she thought as the next
cumbia
came on and everyone started to dance again. Milo came up to her and asked her to dance. Fabi headed back to the packed dance floor. This time she made sure she kept her feet firmly on the floor.

T
hat night became known as the night Fabi danced with the devil. Fabi wondered how much her
abuelita
Alpha had to do with the rumor, but she let it slide. Enough had happened that made her want to put the whole quince fight behind her.

Grace went back to Los Angeles. The show would air in a couple of months, once they finished editing the footage. She was going to call Fabi when it was ready. Grace also invited Fabi to Los Angeles over the summer break. Her dad promised to think about it.

At school, Fabi found that her celebrity status disappeared when the camera's lights went out. She was glad that things were back to normal.

Well, almost — Santiago punched Daniel in the hallway right in front of the vice principal's office. They suspended him, but Santiago didn't care. He said he was done with pretending to be a schoolboy.

Melodee demanded a do-over because she said Fabi cheated. A rumor circulated that Fabi's
chambelán
was a hired escort and thus she broke the rules.

“What rules?” Fabi asked. “There are no quinceañera rules.”

Melodee fumed, “The
rules
! Everyone knows that you can't hire someone to be your
chambelán
. That's cheating.”

“Well, you cheated, too,” Fabi snapped back. “You told Daniel to get close to me so that I'd ask him to be my
chambelán
, when you knew he was your boyfriend. That makes the whole bet null and void.”

“Fine,” Melodee spat.

“Fine.”

Melodee spun around without another word and walked away, her crew trailing behind like a long piece of toilet paper attached to her shoe.

Alexis laughed out loud. Fabi and Milo joined in with her. Everything seemed to be back to normal.

 

Later that day, Fabi and Santiago returned to the hall to pick up Fabi's Vans. The evening had been so crazy she'd forgotten her shoes under the quinceañera table. Fabi still wondered about Orlando. Grandma Trini refused to utter a word about him. She wouldn't say where he lived or even tell her how to reach him.

They walked around the ground underneath the window where Orlando had jumped, looking for signs of him. Fabi was looking for some kind of evidence, like maybe a wallet. Orlando, like everything else she'd experienced the last couple of months (Melodee, Daniel, and
Quince Dreams
), felt like someone else's memory. It was hard to believe she was the eye of this storm. A small smile danced on her lips.
The last couple of months were kind of cool in a weird, my-family's-crazy kind of way
, she thought. Daniel was still a sore spot for her. Had there been a sliver of truth to what he said at her party? she wondered.

Poor Orlando must think she had a schizo family. How could her
abuelita
attack her
chambelán
like that? The area under the window was clear — except for some empty chip wrappers and beer bottles.

“Hey, look at this,” Santiago said, pointing at an indentation in the dirt.

“What is that?” Fabi asked, kneeling down for a closer look.

“They look like some kind of prints,” he said, using his finger to trace an outline.

“They don't look like footprints.”

Fabi stared, trying to think of what could have made those prints in the dirt directly under the window Orlando had jumped from. Then it hit her. They looked just like the hoof-prints Grandpa Frank's goat made in the mud in the corral. Well, at least, one of them did. The other print was a long line, with two shorter lines poking out, like a triangle.

“Hey, that's a chicken footprint,” Santiago said. “Didn't Abuelita Alpha say something about the devil's feet …”

“No.” Fabi started to laugh. “It can't be … could it?”
Could Orlando really be the devil?
she wondered. But if he was the devil, why did he help her? Didn't the devil have bigger people to fry? She was nobody. And how come her grandmothers knew him? No, Orlando was not the devil, she thought. In the Valley, the real devils were the
narcotraficante
s murdering innocent people, giving kids guns, and spreading violence on the other side of the border.

Just then a black Escalade with tinted windows pulled up alongside them and parked. Fabi held her breath as El Payaso Diamante stepped out of the vehicle. Had she willed the
narcotraficante
to appear with her thoughts? Santiago stood as stiff as a statue next to her. She could sense his fear, like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap. This couldn't be good.

The husky man with salt-and-pepper hair and a fat gold medallion on his chest walked up to them. Fabi's eye glanced around for an escape route.

“Santiago Reyes,” El Payaso said in a raspy authoritative voice. Fabi and Santiago swallowed at the same time. “I hear you changed.”

“Yes, sir,” Santiago stuttered.

“I hear you're going to school and staying away from the girls and the business. I hear you even made a promise to La Virgen. Is that right?”

Santiago glanced sideways at Fabi with a surprised expression before answering, “Yes, sir. I did. But how did …”

El Payaso waved Santiago's question away. “A promise to Our Lady del Valle is not something to take lightly. Have you gone to the
Santuario
to make an offering?”

Santiago's eyes got real wide. “I, um, I …”

“I thought so.” El Payaso looked down at his boots. “You better get on it.”

“Yes, sir.” Santiago nodded quickly.

“I'll be watching you, Santiago. I'll be watching your grades, your after-school activities. If I hear that you're messing with any girls or in any dealings, I will be on you like hell's wrath. I let you go because
mi hija
likes you and I made a promise not to harm a hair on your pretty little head, as long as you stay in line.
¿Entiendes, menso?

“I understand, sir,” Santiago answered.

“Now, get over to
El Santuario
and thank La Virgen before I change my mind,” El Payaso said threateningly.

Without answering, Santiago grabbed Fabi's hand and pulled her down the alleyway, away from El Payaso. They ran hard, as if they were running from the devil himself. Neither one of them spoke. Life in the Valley was full of surprises. As they ran away, Fabi realized that they both had a lot to be thankful for. They had their health, their family, and luck on their side. Someone was definitely watching over them. Was it La Virgen or someone else? Whoever it was, Fabi was thankful for their protection and made a promise to take a bouquet of flowers to Our Lady of San Juan del Valle's shrine, just in case.

 

MALÍN ALEGRÍA is the author of
Sofi Mendoza's Guide to Getting Lost in Mexico
and
Estrella's Quinceañera
. Malín grew up in San Francisco, California, and lives there now, where she teaches, writes, and is hard at work playing in dirt. To learn more about her and her books, visit her online at
www.malinalegria.com
.

Copyright © 2012 by Malín Alegría
All rights reserved. Published by Point, an imprint of Scholastic Inc.
SCHOLASTIC, POINT, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

First printing, July 2012

Cover photo by Michael Frost
Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll

e-ISBN 978-0-545-47290-6

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

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