Don't Date Rosa Santos

by Nina Moreno

  He slipped car keys out of his pocket. “Sure. I just have to drop the truck back off at the marina.”

  I followed him out of the bodega. It was a small blessing that no one was in the break room to see us as we headed to the parking lot. Was he smiling? The afternoon sun was blindingly bright at the moment, so maybe he was just squinting. I had to stop staring at his lips. I hurried to keep up with his longer stride. At the old blue truck we stopped, and I gripped the straps of my backpack. In a rush, I said, “There’s this local legend from forever ago, when a class hid a—”

  “Golden Turtle.”

  I stopped, relieved. “You know about it?”

  “I grew up here, too, Rosa.” He cocked his head.

  “My friend found the map.” I checked around us and leaned closer. He met me halfway, and I was momentarily distracted by the smell of sugar on his warm brown skin. I leaned in even closer and whispered, “It’s on a barrier island.”

  “Yeah? I drew fishing maps for the area years ago and know the islands around here well.”

  “Good! That’s good. Because I was going to ask if you’d take us out there.”

  “Really? You’re ready?” The question was simple, but huge. He understood what I was asking was bigger than our town’s legends. It was bigger than me snooping around the docks at night looking for some marker of my father’s life. Rosa Santos was asking to get on a boat and leave this shore.

  I wasn’t ready. But I wanted to try.

  “Rosa, you can’t wear two life jackets,” Ana insisted.

  I stopped trying to clasp the second one. “Fine.”

  Instead of Alex’s sailboat, we boarded a pontoon his parents chartered out. He tried to explain how complicated sailing was in an effort to reassure me that this would be an easy trip, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. The pontoon was basically a bunch of couches in a floating bathtub. Alex sat behind the wheel as we slowly made our way out of the marina.

  “The Gulf isn’t really the ocean,” he explained for my benefit.

  “Semantics,” I said, and gripped the edge of the small table bolted into the floor in front of me. “It is an ocean basin, connected to the Caribbean Sea and Atlantic.”

  “According to your map, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “It’s not my map.” I hadn’t given myself enough time to think about this. As soon as Alex agreed, I texted Ana, Benny, and Mike to meet us at the dock if they wanted the infamous turtle. I even included a cute little turtle emoji. I was orchestrating this wild quest, all because I had an ill-thought-out crush. We were doomed.

  Benny looked comfortable with his arms stretched across the back of his chair. He grinned as he looked at the open water ahead of us.

  “What’s in your bag?” I asked him. This was all his idea, but he’d been last to arrive at the docks.

  “Bottle rockets. If you’re going to win, win big.” He patted the bag next to mine. “And we can use them for flares if we get lost.”

  Alex turned the wheel by small degrees. “We’re not going to get lost.” He glanced at me and offered me an encouraging nod. We were surrounded by water and a deep orange sky, but behind us, Port Coral was alive with the lights along the boardwalk. I watched it become smaller. It looked like a postcard. A perfect snapshot of home.

  “It’s something, isn’t it?”

  I looked over my shoulder to see Alex smiling at me.

  “I’ve never seen it from this angle,” I said, awed. This sleepy harbor was just as welcoming as Mimi’s house, as soft and warm as a guava pastelito. It wasn’t haunted and gloomy. It was alive and so worth saving.

  “Just a little farther,” Alex assured me.

  “I can’t believe the map was in the yearbook the whole time,” Ana said. She flipped through, laughing at the older pictures with Mike. “That’s evil.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Mike said. “Check all the heavy eyeliner they’re wearing.”

  “Let me see.” I was too nervous to get up while the boat was in motion, so Ana brought the yearbook to me. I opened it to the map page again and dragged my finger across the bubble-gum-bright image. There was our town square on the map, the grass basil green and surrounded by familiar buildings in sandy shades of brown and coral pink. Just west of it was my street, the houses too small to distinguish, but in front of Mimi’s was a splash of green dotted with yellow: her lemon trees. “It was probably a sneaky-as-hell editor who wanted to watch the world burn.”

  “Smart but dangerously subtle,” Alex said.

  “But the mystery of it. It’s the sort of mess I would have made if anyone left me in charge of the yearbook.” I’d been editor in middle school and thought I would be again, but high school gave way to college too fast to stick around and play pretend.

  I glanced up and my gaze caught Alex’s. He jutted his chin toward the map. “What do you see?”

  The question startled a laugh from me. “You just reminded me of my mother.”

  Alex looked surprised. Benny frowned and jerked his head in an Abort, you’re being awkward way.

  “No, it’s just my mom and I traveled a lot when I was younger, to really ordinary places, and she’d always ask, ‘Where are we, Rosa?’ and that was my cue to pretend that bit of sky was actually California or that orchard a vineyard in Italy. Like the sea right in front of us was Cuba.”

  Alex looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you want to go to those places?”

  “Of course.”

  He turned the wheel a little, and old memories stirred. Windows open, my hair flying, another map on my lap. Mom singing and tapping along to an old country song on the radio. Ana took the yearbook to tell Benny something I couldn’t hear over the engine and wind. There were so many places I wanted to go, and sitting here with my friends was the first moment in a long time where I felt capable of going anywhere.

  “We’re here,” Alex announced.

  The engine cut off and the boat coasted to a stop. I shot to my feet. The shocking realization that I had crossed a small body of water and was now on an island was overshadowed by the sight of other parked boats and several dots of lights bouncing around the island.

  “Benny!” I shouted.

  “Okay, so I wasn’t the only one in that storage room, and it turns out I’m pretty loud when I talk.”

  We scrambled off the boat. “God, my family is the worst,” Ana announced as she jumped over the side.

  “Never tell a Cuban a secret,” I agreed, steps behind her.

  “Hey, we’re the only ones with the yearbook.” Benny turned on his phone’s flashlight, and we all followed suit. It wasn’t fully dark yet, but it was close, and though the uninhabited island wasn’t big, it was overgrown. “Give me the yearbook, Rosa.”

  We huddled around it. I could hear voices from the other groups. So far, no one was screaming about snakes or gators. And no one was shouting in victory. I pointed at the turtle. “According to this very funky compass rose, it’s on the northwest corner.” I looked up from the map. “Which way is northwest?”

  Alex took the lead. “Be careful.” He scanned the ground. It was all dirt, fallen palm fronds, and scattered shells.

  “According to old pictures, the turtle is the size of a football.” I hurried forward and bumped into Alex’s back. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He slowed his stride to meet mine. I wanted to move closer so badly it was like fighting a magnet.

  “What do we get if we find this thing?” Mike asked. He kicked over a log. “Holy shit, there’s, like, a city of bugs under this thing.” He squatted to investigate with a stick.

  “We get to be the ones who found the Golden Turtle,” Benny said. “That’s huge. Rosa?”

  “What?” I said without looking back. I was trying to walk while focusing my peripheral gaze on Alex again.

  “My dad said the winner got free pizza at Bonito’s,” Mike said, and turned his flashlight just enough to quickly blind Ana. She lunged for him as he darted awa
y, laughing.

  “Rosa!” Benny shouted.

  “What?!” I stopped and looked back at Benny. The other voices were getting closer.

  “We’re doing this to find something that’s been lost almost as long as we’ve been alive,” Benny said, sounding serious. This mattered to him. He opened his hand for the yearbook, and I gave it to him. We headed northwest by the light of Mike’s flashlight in search of treasure.

  After a half hour, we still hadn’t found it.

  It probably didn’t help our cause that Benny was the only one really looking. Alex left to watch after the boat, Mike was looking for sticks to whittle, and Ana and I walked together, kicking aside leaves and muck.

  “Your new boyfriend is super hot,” she said.

  I shushed her. “He’s too much. I look at him and I want to just, like, move closer. It’s making me all clumsy and sweaty.”

  “The height difference is very tol and smol. You could climb him or something.”

  “Right? I’ll build a nest up on his shoulders where I can bring him small trinkets. I was months deep on the viejitos’ Insta searching for any crumb of information about him, but there was nothing, and now to find out he bakes, too?”

  “Lethal.”

  “I’m going to fall too hard. This is level-five crushing. I mean, we have a past. We had lunch together for an entire semester, reading and never speaking. I have no idea what to do with that.”

  Ana laughed. “Silently reading beside you? God, that’s, like, your ultimate romance. And with the way he was watching you on the boat, I think he’d be up for that nest.”

  I stumbled over a huge rock. “He was looking at me? Describe his face.”

  “Hey, look, it’s Benny,” a voice shouted from the dark trees.

  Benny shoved the yearbook back at me and muttered a curse. “There goes our element of surprise.”

  “We lost that as soon as you found the map, big mouth,” Mike pointed out.

  The light of my cell phone shone on a corner of the rock that I’d tripped over. There was something very curiously round and smooth about it. I bent to brush away the dead foliage.

  A golden shell came into view. Holy crap. Benny was right.

  “Benny!” I whisper-screamed.

  He whipped his head around and met my gaze meaningfully.

  “I caught the oiled-up pig,” I told him.

  He grinned. “Lucky, now you can marry a girl from your village.” He headed toward the voices with an easy walk, and cracking jokes I couldn’t hear past my racing thoughts. I bent quickly and shoved away the rest of the dead leaves.

  Mike and Ana huddled too closely around me. “Be cool, you guys,” I hissed. “Look natural.”

  They immediately dispersed. Mike sang, “Look at the stars, Ana. Look how they shine for you.”

  “You’re damn right they do,” she said.

  There it was. The Golden Turtle. Rustier than the pictures, but it was unmistakable. I picked it up and realized it was bigger than a football.

  Ana bumped into my side. “Damn, we actually did it.” Her awe turned cutthroat. “How the hell are we supposed to get that back to the boat without being seen?”

  “Why can’t we be seen?”

  Mike huddled beside us. “Because this is an island of mice, and you got the cheese.”

  I whipped off my backpack.

  “It’s not going to fit,” Mike whispered.

  It would. Everything did when I needed it to, and sure enough, even with my laptop and books in there, I was able to fit the statue. I zipped it closed and had the bag on my back again just as Benny came over with his group.

  “Hey, assholes.” He was smiling and looking only at me. I smiled back. “What, already bored?” he asked.

  “Extremely,” Ana told him. “Plus, our mothers would kill us for being out here, trying to get murdered.”

  “Too many podcasts,” I told her in a singsong voice.

  “We’re out,” Mike decided.

  “Fine,” Benny said, his voice dripping in disappointment. “Have fun searching,” he told the others and followed our casual stroll back to the boat.

  Alex got to his feet when he saw us coming. When we started running, he cranked the boat. As soon as we boarded and I was back in my life vest, Alex pushed the throttle and pointed us toward open water. We screamed in victory. Somewhere on the island, curses rang out. By flashlight, we took pictures with the statue to immediately post our proof.

  “I can’t believe we found it.” Ana held it in her hands, her hair flying in the wind.

  Benny sat back and crossed his feet, a content and cocky grin on his lips.

  “You know what this means,” Ana shouted over the roar of the boat and wind. “We’ll be the ones to hide it again before graduation.”

  “You know what else this means?” Mike asked. “Free pizza.”

  Back at the marina, everyone headed toward the square, hoisting our treasure. I lingered with Alex as he settled his boat. “Are you coming?” I asked him. “Mr. Bonito can be a little heavy with the sauce sometimes, but the best pizza is the free kind.” Behind him the sky was midnight blue and glittered with stars. His dark hair danced softly in a restless breeze.

  Alex was the sea, and I wanted to close my eyes and jump.

  “I’ve still got stuff to take care of, but thanks.” He tried to calm his windswept hair. “Enjoy the victory.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without you.” I slipped my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack and looked up at him. “I mean that. All of this. Going out there and finding it, but also just going out there. I can’t believe I did that, but it was…”

  He waited.

  “Incredible.” My hair was a mess, and my lungs burned from the rush of cold sea air, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Alex looked pleased. “I’ve got some news.”

  “What is it?” I didn’t mean to whisper the question, but he stepped closer. And glanced at my lips. I tried to remember how to talk.

  He reached into his pocket and slipped out a phone. “I got a new one.”

  “Can I have your phone number now?”

  There was a striking moment of silence that nearly killed me before he laughed suddenly. The deep, honest sound was a wash of relief that teased an equally bright smile from me. He climbed back onto the boat and from some unknown cabinet fished out a slip of paper and pencil. As he scribbled something on it he said, “So, not only do you deliver bread by bicycle and save seaside towns, but you have an impossible backpack that can hold anything.”

  In my back pocket, my phone vibrated, once, twice, and then again and again—my friends, ready to celebrate, no doubt. I ignored it as I did a quick half turn to show off my beloved bag.

  “Your story is definitely an interesting one.” He stepped off the boat again.

  Oh, how I wanted it to be. “I’m still figuring it out, to be honest.”

  “Well, in tonight’s chapter, you took a boat by moonlight and found a pirate’s lost treasure.”

  A startling whine sang out, and the sky exploded in yellow sparks. Three more bottle rockets sailed above us as Benny broke into his stash. But I couldn’t look away from Alex’s warm gaze.

  I wanted more. So much more.

  Ana screamed my name, and Alex looked past me. His chest rose and fell. He offered me a small but gallant bow of farewell before handing me the piece of paper. “My number,” he said. I clutched it in my hand.

  “Rosa!” Ana shouted from the dock.

  “¡No me grites!” I screamed, turning toward her, the fireworks, and the oldest pizza spot in town.

  We emerged from our victory meal, phones bursting with notifications. Outside, a car waited. Three girls, all on the dance team, leaned out the open windows and smiled at Benny. He glanced back at us with a bright smile. “Can I have the turtle tonight?”

  I guess the star soccer player is back.

  “No,” Ana said as I asked, “What are you going to do with
it?”

  “This old guy has been lost for a long time, Rosa. He deserves to celebrate.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s been waiting to celebrate,” I said.

  A song’s deep bass rolled out from the waiting car. They were growing impatient for their hero. “I’ll keep an eye on it,” Benny told me, grinning.

  “Yeah, I bet,” I said. “Just don’t lose it or be gross.”

  “Wise words, but my chariot awaits.” He climbed into the car.

  “You’re not going with them?” I asked Mike once they left.

  He slipped a toothpick in his mouth and shrugged. “It’s been a long night, and we ran out of bottle rockets.”

  We followed the winding sidewalks back to our neighborhood. The houses that lined this street were mostly one story, squat, and made of concrete, but painted in bright shades that complemented their well-tended gardens. Nights were growing warmer now, and the evening air whispered to us in sweet-tart breezes that rustled the many citrus trees on the block.

  “Do you think he’s going to lose the turtle?” I asked Ana.

  She twisted her curls up into a careful knot before checking her phone. “Nah,” she said. “I think he’s going to straight-up trade it away.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket.

  An electric sound screeched from the house in front of us. We stopped walking. The garage door stood open, and inside someone was kneeled in front of an amp. He looked over his shoulder and noticed us. “Ana!” he called, smiling. I recognized Tyler Moon, the lead singer of the Electric, from school. Tyler was short, spry, and blinded you with his shiny blond hair and megawatt smile. He had been a senior when I’d started dual enrollment.

  “Band practice this late?” I asked Ana.

  “Hey, Ana!” Tyler called. “You gotta hear this.”

  Ana peeled away from us and headed up the driveway. “Don’t forget your curfew,” I called, and she hissed, “Okay, Mom.”

  I blew her a kiss and then Mike and I continued on our way. “Hey, congrats for getting on the boat.” He raised his hand for a high five. “Big deal for a Santos, yeah?”