Page 135 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“You’re still young,” Mr. Dandy said. “I envy the adventures you have ahead. Embrace them. Revel in each and every moment.”

Omar wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but he wanted to make his boss happy, so he nodded and said, “I will.”

“Good.” Mr. Dandy pushed away from the desk. “Speaking of the missus, it’s time for me to lock up and go home. Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” Omar ejected the master tape for the school yearbook. He had finished just under the wire, but he’d gotten it done.

“I can’t tell you how much positive feedback I’ve received from parents who are thrilled with the birthday tapes you’ve put together.”

Omar wasn’t blindsided by this news. Mr. Dandy always made sure to share praise with him.

His boss cleared his throat. “Of course it would be a shame if we had to slow production because you were in summer school.”

“Are you trying to motivate me?” Omar asked.

“Yes. Is it working?”

He thought about it. “Have you ever considered filming sketches with Archie and the other characters? You could play them on monitors around the restaurant. Maybe at the places where people have to wait in line.”

“That could be an interesting summer project,” Mr. Dandy said. “If you’re available.”

Omar grinned. “I will be. You’ll see!”

— — —

Silvia was helping her father work in the small garden behind their trailer. He would break up the compacted soil, turn it over, and glance up at her when she needed to add fresh manure. The pungent smell wafting from the plastic bag made her think of Keisha. Or her farm, more accurately.

“Have you learned any tricks from your new job?”she asked, slipping comfortably into Spanish.

“I’m more interested in teachingthemtricks,”Miguel said, standing upright and wiping his hands on his pants.“Your great-grandfather owned a farm. I used to work on it as a boy.”

“Really? What sort of things did he grow?”

Miguel nodded at the freshly tilled soil.“Corn, like we’ll plant here.”His eyes moved to the rusted-out fishing boat.“Tomatoes.”He pointed at the toilet.“Chili peppers. And many other things.”

“Is that how you choose what we grow each year?”Silvia asked.“Is it all from your childhood?”

Miguel nodded.“I think of him and feel connected, even though he died a long time ago.”Her father smiled.“I managed to bring some of my roots with me.”

And now they were going to leave those roots behind, but she had no right to complain. Moving to another state was nothing compared to fleeing your native country and never returning there.

“I had a dream last night—”Miguel began.

Her mother appeared from around the trailer.“Lunch is ready!”

“I hope it’s a good meal!”Miguel said, patting his belly.“They feed me well on the farm. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“If you feel I can’t compete, maybe you should start sleeping there as well,”Elena teased, kissing her husband on the cheek. Then she looked at Silvia.“Are you hungry?”

“Yes,”she said, envying what they had together. Especially since she and Omar had been so estranged as of late. Silvia wondered if her parents had ever gone through something similar, but the thought was forgotten when she went inside and she saw her mother’s chicken and avocado tortas, which always made her mouth water.

They were halfway through the meal when her parents began discussing what they wanted to do with the rest of the day.

“I need to stop by the grocery store,”Elena was saying.“Hugo is out of juice boxes, and I need to pick up money orders to pay the bills.”

“I can help with that,”Silvia said, grateful for the reminder.

She stood and went to her room, returning with cash that she had withdrawn. Three hundred dollars in total. She hadn’t yet been paid for working full-time during spring break, but once she was, she’d be able to deposit almost as much again.