Spain or Shine (17 page)

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Caitlin whispered.

Elena shrugged. “Just absorb them, I guess.”

“What makes these so good anyway?” Caitlin asked. Marci steered them toward a Velásquez painting just as a guided tour led in Spanish filed away from it.

“Take this one. I think I've seen it before.” Caitlin tilted her head and scrunched her nose.

Elena nodded. She recognized it as the painting on the cover of her Spanish textbook.

“But why is it famous?” Caitlin said.

Miguel read the Spanish blurb aloud about LA INFANTA MARGARITA, and then gave them a recap in English. When he was done, the girls leaned in closer.

“I still don't get it,” Caitlin whispered to Marci in a tone that was loud enough for Elena to overhear. “This is kind of boring.”

Marci rolled her eyes and took Caitlin by the arm, leading her toward the next painting along the wall. Elena hung back so she could consider the first painting without Caitlin's interruptions. Miguel didn't make a move to follow Marci and Caitlin either.

“What do you think?” he asked after a long moment of silence had passed while they contemplated the painting.

“I don't know. I'm not really an art buff, or anything, but I think it's pretty. What about this one?” she asked, moving to a portrait of a woman several paces down the wall. “What do you think of her?”

“This woman is beautiful, no?”

Elena nodded emphatically and leaned in to look at the delicate brushstrokes around her eyes.

“But...” Miguel paused dramatically.

“But what?” she asked, straightening up to look at him.

“Well, I would like her better if her eyes were blue.” He looked forward, appearing to study the painting closely. “And if her hair was lighter. If her skin was very fair, and if she had lips like...” He looked at Elena boldly. She froze and looked right back. “Yes. If she had lips like yours, then I would think she was even more beautiful.” He smiled slightly.

Elena reflexively reached up to touch her lips and felt a blush rising in her cheeks.
He's flirting with me,
she thought.

For a moment she felt time freeze. She imagined herself laugh and smile then say something flirty in return as she bumped playfully into him. But she realized none of that was happening. Miguel looked at her expectantly.

She tried to say the things that were in her head, but what she heard come out of her mouth was, “We should probably catch up with Marci and Caitlin.” She smiled weakly and peered down the corridor in the girls' direction.

Elena and Miguel fell in step with Marci and Caitlin at the end of the Velásquez display, and they all wandered toward the section on Francisco de Goya.

“I'm going to like these,” Caitlin predicted. “Goya, Goya, Goya. Even the name is fun to say.”

They edged in next to a cluster of tourists assembled in front of a painting of a nude woman reclining on a settee, her arms folded confidently behind her head.

Miguel read the blurb in Spanish again. Elena stepped closer to the painting, listening to the musical rise and fall of Miguel's voice, but tuning out the actual words. The best part about seeing these paintings in person was being able to move close enough to see the texture of the brushstrokes in the paint. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers over the ripples of paint. These paintings granted immortality to their creators. She felt an urge to create something lasting of her own through playwriting.

“This particular painting by Goya created a new nudity form,” Miguel began to translate in a serious academic voice. “It was inspired by Goya's mistress, a lazy woman who enjoyed lying around all day near the window....”

Elena straightened up and glanced toward the plaque next to the painting. “Does it really say that?” she gasped.

“Yes,” Miguel deadpanned. “It also says that Goya wanted her to go on a diet, but she refused to give up
churros con chocolate.
” He flashed a sly smile.

Elena burst into giggles.

“Mmm,
churros con chocolate,”
Caitlin groaned deliriously.

“Speaking of food, we might want to leave soon so we can grab something to eat before our train,” Marci said.

“Good idea, I'm starving,” Caitlin said, hooking her arm through Marci's and leading the way to the exit.

 

“Hey, you guys.” Jenna waved as Elena's group walked toward the platform that boarded the train headed back to San Sebastián.

“How was the bullfight?” Elena asked as they approached the other half of their group.

“It was awesome,” Alex gushed.

“What was it like?” Marci leaned in.

“Pretty gross,” Jenna admitted, contorting her face in disgust. “And actually sort of boring.”

“What? No, it was brilliant,” Chris defended.

“The bull was huge,” Alex chimed in.

“It was interesting from, like, a historical perspective, but totally macho,” Jenna said.

“You have to admit, the bulls looked pretty awesome,” Alex countered. “Each one looked like it could break every bone in my body.”

“That's impressive?” Jenna shot back with a wry smile, obviously enjoying the heated exchange. “They were just big simple animals.”

“Just big simple animals? Are you crazy?” Alex said. “It was sick, dude. The bull charged out like this.” He scuffed his foot on the floor and bounded toward Chris. Chris grabbed him around the waist and tried to fling him to the ground, but Alex resisted.

“But the matador was too quick,” Chris took over the narration. “He spun around and stabbed the bull in the shoulder.” Chris popped Alex on the shoulder with his fist. The boys abandoned their narration but continued to wrestle as other passengers began to board the train.

Jenna picked up her backpack and cracked a smile at the other girls. “Like I said, just big simple animals.”

“Hey, what did you call me?” Alex said. He charged over to Jenna, who was already giggling, picked her up by the waist, and carried her onto the train.

 

Just as Elena was beginning to feel a twinge of snack-sized hunger she heard the metallic squeak of the food cart wheels bumping down the aisle. She and Alex had left the others and had come to another car to work on their play assignment, which was due in only a few days. Elena knew they had a lot of work to do, but her mind kept drifting back to Miguel's flirtations back at the museum. It was so much better than anything she could have dreamed up.

There was a whooshing sound and the compartment dimmed as the train sped through a tunnel and the view of twilight outside her window turned completely black. Elena was grateful for the few moments of darkness to think about Miguel. By the time they had exited the tunnel, the snack attendant was standing beside her.

“Something to eat?” the attendant asked.

“Yes,” she answered, pointing to a package of chocolate hazelnut cookies. She was always amazed when many of the locals instantly knew she was an English speaker. She knew she didn't look particularly Spanish, but there seemed to be something about her appearance that screamed “American.”

“And a water,” she said.

“With gas?” he asked as he handed her the cookies.

She shook her head no. Elena had learned her lesson with that question. She'd finally realized that the servers weren't asking her if she wanted a glass. They were actually saying gas, and gas referred to the bubbles added to the water.

Elena split the paper wrapping on the package of cookies and spread them out on a napkin.

“Help, I can't eat all of these,” she said, shoving the cookies into the middle of the table that stood between them. It was funny how much Alex had begun to feel like one of her brothers. Elena had noticed that being with people who were all so far from home was like being in a friendship incubator, accelerating the awkward phase and skipping more quickly into the comfortable stage.

“Okay, we should probably work on the third act. That's the only thing we still need to finish,” Elena said, pulling her notebook out of her backpack and spreading it open on top of the table. Elena wrote
Act Three
at the top of the page.

“Right,” Alex nodded, reaching for a cookie. “So, he's already met his mom. We just need to wrap up the love story. I think they should end up together, and maybe they kiss at the end.”

“I don't know,” Elena said after a pause.

“What? You don't like it?”

Elena hesitated again. “It's not that. I just don't know if it's very realistic.”

“Elena. What are you talking about? We've been building up to it the entire play.”

“It's just that sometimes two people have trouble getting together, and it may never happen, whatever the reason.”

“What?” He looked at her sideways for a moment, then said, “Ooh, is this about you and Miguel?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean. I saw him following you around all weekend, and I saw you looking at him, too.”

“What?”

“He's into you, you know.”

She was used to guys falling all over themselves to be near Gwen, and now Jenna. So, even after Miguel's constant proximity and his flirtatious comments at the museum, Elena had trouble believing he was interested in her.

“Do you really think Miguel likes me?” she asked.

“Yeah, why not?”

“I don't know. I had just assumed he was into Jenna.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She
is
hot.”

“That's what I mean. Everyone loves her.”

“Look, Elena, Jenna's a cute girl, but that doesn't mean you're not.”

“Aw, that's a nice compliment. You know, in an Alex sort of way.” She laughed.

He tugged at the side of his baseball cap. “I just mean that you're a good-looking girl. Maybe Jenna's not his type. It is actually possible, you know.”

Elena wondered if she had spent so many years comparing herself to her sister's impossible beauty that she hadn't really looked at herself the way Miguel might.

“Listen, I don't know what Miguel's done to let you know he's interested, but you can't expect him to do
all
the work. Most guys are okay with making a move, but they need some sort of sign that you're interested, too. They need to know they aren't going to get shot down. No one likes to be rejected.”

Elena thought about Miguel's flirtatious comments again and tried to remember how she'd responded. She had
imagined
the perfect response, but she hadn't really done anything to reciprocate.

Alex leaned in a little closer and softened his tone. “I'm just reaching here, but my guess is you probably haven't done much to let him know you like him.”

“How do
you
even know I like him?” she recoiled, her face burning.

“Oh, please. It's so obvious.”

“Well if it's so obvious—”

“To me, not to Miguel,” he countered, before she could even get her argument out.

“All right, I get it,” she said. “So, to recap, I'm irresistible, Miguel's irresistible, we're all irresistible.” She cut her eyes at him and then blinked furiously in her best playful Jenna impression.

Alex laughed.

“Enough about me.” She scooted the notebook and pen over toward Alex. “We have a play to finish.” She was trying to appear as though she had brushed the whole conversation aside easily, but she knew this would stay with her. Alex had just challenged everything she had ever believed about herself and her prospects with boys. He had actually suggested that someone could like her just for being herself.

“What do you think? Should we change it?” Elena asked as she and Alex were walking toward play production on Wednesday. They were supposed to turn in their play at the beginning of class. “We still have a few minutes.”

“Elena, would you stop stressing?” Alex leaned against the outside wall of the classroom.

“I just feel like we could have done something more with the confrontation with the mother, and—”

“Elena, it's perfect.” Alex snatched the play out of her hand and walked into the classroom. She was about to make one last protest when she saw him slide the stack of papers into Ms. B's hands.

“Thank you, Alex,” Ms. B said as she set their play on top of the others on her desk. Then she looked at Elena. “I'm looking forward to reading it.”

Elena nodded weakly, then took her seat.