Falling Too Fast

by Malín Alegría

  “Oh, look.” Alexis pointed to the second Dos Rios High School bus that had pulled in behind them. Students were emptying out and gathering around Assistant Principal Castillo. “It’s Santiago.”

  “Wasn’t he a senior last year?” Justin asked, passing his hefty backpack to his other shoulder.

  “Oh, yeah,” Alexis answered absently. “He’s on a five-year plan. All right, well, I’ll see you later. Santi!” Alexis called out and rushed over to where her cousin was standing.

  Justin hurried after her like a shadow. “I think we’re all supposed to stay together,” he said.

  Alexis ignored him and tried to hide behind a group of girls that was standing next to Santiago. “Help me,” Alexis whispered in a desperate tone.

  Santiago smiled as he glanced over her shoulder at Justin. “I don’t know why you don’t give him a chance. My mom’s always saying that dorky nerds in high school blossom into dorky rich swans after college. Ain’t that right, Mr. Castillo?” Santiago turned to the assistant principal. “Were you a nerd in high school?”

  The assistant principal gave Santiago a heated stare.

  Santiago raised his arms in an “I give up” gesture. “Just kidding, man. Just kidding.”

  Alexis couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you even doing here?”

  “What?” Santiago placed his hands on his chest and shot her a disappointed look. “Just because I have to repeat senior year doesn’t mean I can’t have dreams, you know.”

  Alexis rolled her eyes.

  “I’m part of the AP’s ‘special’ list.” Santiago emphasized the word “special” with his fingers. “The dude has a soft spot for knuckleheads like me and I love field trips. Plus, I always wanted to date a college girl.” He nudged her in the ribs.

  The group walked toward a series of white tents in the middle of a large grassy area. Alexis had been to the university before, for a festival where lots of famous authors came and talked about their books. Alexis had given the free books she got to Chuy, the cook at her family’s restaurant, so he could practice his English. She’d only gone so she could meet a real famous person. One day she would be like them, she told herself, signing autographs and taking pictures with fans.

  “Hey, where’s your sister?” Santiago asked, when they got to the registration table, where they each received a “Go to College” tote bag stuffed with university souvenirs. “She’s the one who likes all this college stuff,” he added, sticking a college bumper sticker from the bag on a passing girl’s backpack.

  Alexis shook her head. “Fabi said she couldn’t miss class. She also said something about applying out of state. I don’t know. Now that she’s a junior, she’s even more obsessed with her grades and work.” Alexis rolled her eyes.

  “Good thing I stuck around, huh?” Santiago joked, tying the rolled-up university bandanna around his forehead.

  Alexis laughed, swatting at her cousin playfully.

  The assistant principal called them over under a live oak. He proceeded to review the rules of conduct as if they were children. When Castillo mentioned the buddy system, she could feel Justin’s stare on the back of her neck. Alexis inched closer to Santiago and hooked her arm into his before he could protest. A group of girls shot her dirty looks from across the circle, but she ignored them happily. As his cousin, she had first dibs. Blood was thicker than lipstick.

  As a member of Castillo’s “special” group, Santiago had to accompany AP Castillo to the workshops he had chosen specifically for his group. Alexis wanted to gag when they walked into a “financial awareness” workshop, until she realized that they were going to be talking about money. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Justin sitting a safe distance away. Alexis wanted to scream. How was she supposed to find her future boyfriend with Justin dangling around like an old key chain?

  When they broke for lunch under the tents, the Rio Grande Valley regional high school mariachi champions greeted them, strumming a potpourri of classic Mexican songs. Alexis was eager to check out the group. She hadn’t competed the year before, because she was a freshman and still learning the songs. Last year’s mariachi group was made up of mostly seniors, and they’d made it to the statewide semifinals in San Antonio. But when the music teacher switched to Roma High, a school with a better music program, Alexis’s hopes for participating in the mariachi competitions were doused. She considered changing schools, but her parents refused. Without a music teacher, Alexis wondered if they’d even have a group this year. Mariachi was supposed to be her ticket to fame. Record scouts went to the high school competitions to find new talent. There was a girl from Sullivan City who was offered a record deal at last year’s competition.

  Alexis studied the musicians onstage. At first glance they didn’t look like anything special. They were an all-female group, dressed in white mariachi greca-style two-piece suits with matching gold ties, sashes, and hair bows. They must not have any good male musicians, she thought.

  Santiago elbowed her in the side. “What are you staring at?”

  She nodded at the group. “They’re supposed to be the best high school mariachi band in the Valley, but I don’t see it.”

  Her cousin smiled. “I hear the lead singer is really good.”

  Alexis crossed her arms in front of her chest. As she glanced around, she caught sight of Justin Peña staring right at her. He waved, but Alexis sat down quickly on the grass, pretending not to notice him. Justin was in mariachi with her, too, but that didn’t mean they needed to sit together for the concert. As the intro continued, she craned her neck to see around the stage. Where was this big-shot singer?

  Suddenly, from nowhere and everywhere, a melodious voice rang out from the speakers. The voice struck her like an arrow.

  The source of the voice stepped into view. He was gorgeous, Alexis thought, admiring his dark hair, flirtatious smile, and beautiful brown eyes. The singer was dressed all in black except for a small red rose pinned to his jacket. There were horse-shaped silver buttons on his coat and down the side of his polyester-wool-blend pants. He held a wide-brimmed sombrero in one hand and a wireless mic in the other.

  Is this a dream? Alexis wondered as the figure floated by her. He was so close she could have brushed his leg with her hand. She realized with a start that he looked like the guy she had seen in the Salinas brothers’ car the other night. She couldn’t be sure, though.

  The singer paused on his way to the stage and took an audience member’s hand, delicately pressing it to his lips. Everyone — or to be more precise, all the girls under the canopy — went wild.

  The crowd jumped up and rushed forward as the singer took the stage. If only she had sat closer to the stage. There was no way she could possibly catch his attention from all the way in the back. Who was this guy? How come she’d never heard of him — or how gorgeous he was?

  “Oh, no,” Santiago groaned. “Not you, too. You’re all gaga for El Charro Negro, aren’t you? You and all the girls here.” He glanced at the audience members cheering and crying out to the singer. “How am I supposed to compete with this dude? I can’t even carry a tune,” he joked.

  “Is that his name?” Alexis asked. She wanted to know everything about him. “The Black Horseman. Is it because he has a dark soul? Or maybe some girl broke his heart and now he doesn’t believe that he can ever love again. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Chill out, cousin.” Santiago grinned, shaking his head. “Don’t let your fantasies run away with you. I think they call him that because he only wears black. He must think it makes him look mysterious … like Zorro. I think it’s kinda stupid.”

  “You’re just jealous,” Alexis cried, slapping him on the chest. “You just don’t get artistic types. We’re mysterious people, okay? Regular people just can’t understand us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes. Us. I’m an artist, too, you know.”

  Santiago’s face opened up into a gigantic, cheeky smile.

  “Don’t make th
at face. I’m going to be a famous singer someday. I’ll have tons of fans, you’ll see.”

  Santiago nodded, raising his index finger. “Well, for now you have one adoring fan, just one.” He gestured to where Justin was still lurking, off to the side.

  “Oh, shut up.” Alexis was losing her patience with Santiago. She moved up, determined to catch El Charro Negro’s eye. As an artist, she knew how tough this business was — surely they had a lot in common. Maybe they would become fast friends — or maybe something more? Could it be possible that he was the dark man the old lady from the botánica told her about? He must be! she thought. Didn’t her cousin lead her to him? Alexis checked her face in her compact. She pinched her cheeks to make them rosy and dabbed on some lip gloss. Then she walked toward the stage.

  Alexis didn’t get very far, however. Not one girl would let her through the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed her cousin grinning from ear to ear. There was no way she could go back.

  Over in the far corner, to the left of the stage, she noticed a woman in a red business suit talking on a cell phone. She leaned on the metal railing that separated the musicians and stage crew from the hungry-eyed audience. That must be the event coordinator or his manager, Alexis thought, making her way over to her. El Charro would probably pass her on his way out.

  Alexis waited as he sang several heartfelt ballads. Her heart beat wildly. He was so talented. Hearing the familiar mariachi songs sung by El Charro felt like hearing them for the first time. She wanted to grab each word he sang and lock it away in a safe for only her to hear.

  Finally, he finished. Alexis felt like she’d been awakened rudely from a blissful dream. Is that really it? El Charro Negro pulled the red rose from his lapel and threw it into the audience. It seemed like every girl under the canopy dove for the flower.

  But then he was gone. She turned suddenly, looking for El Charro Negro. Alexis sighed with relief when he walked up to the woman in red — just like she’d guessed. The woman thanked him with a big hug. Surprised, the boy jerked back, right into the metal gate — and right into Alexis.

  He turned to apologize, but Alexis seized her opportunity. “Hi, my name is Alexis. I saw your performance just now. You’re pretty good. I sing as well. I play the violin, too.” She felt herself babbling, but couldn’t stop.

  El Charro Negro glanced at her with a perplexed look in his dark eyes. Suddenly, Alexis felt the metal gate shake and heard a girl yell, “He’s over here!”

  The mob was getting out of control. Alexis thought quickly. “I know a way to get you out of here,” she said urgently. He nodded, so she grabbed the charro by the wrist and started to run. The screams from the mob rang in her ears. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Alexis ran as fast as she could, weaving in and out across the grassy school landscape, around college students, trees, and benches. She finally stopped behind a big school building, out of breath. Panting loudly next to her was El Charro Negro. Alexis did a double take to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. He was so cute, even in his disheveled state. Just as she had that thought, he looked up at her. His warm chocolate eyes locked with hers and made her stomach quiver with anticipation.

  “Wow, that was close. Thanks for helping me,” he said, wiping his forehead.

  Alexis beamed. “Don’t worry about it. Saving charros from a mob of adoring fans is a hobby of mine.”

  The boy smiled. “Really?”

  Alexis shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

  “Then maybe I should have you around more often.”

  Alexis’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Last month, at the Brownsville County Fair, a sixty-year-old woman ripped off my shoe while I was singing.”

  Alexis laughed.

  Suddenly, a white van pulled up alongside them. A man with a big mustache motioned for El Charro Negro to get in. Alexis noticed a couple of the girls from the mariachi band packed in the backseat like sardines. The charro smiled at the driver as he jumped into the front seat. Alexis hung back by the wall, not sure what to do next. Should she ask for a ride? Should she give him her number?

  “Hey,” El Charro Negro called out to her from the van.

  Alexis looked up at him, her heart soaring with joy.

  “Thanks again,” he said, and waved good-bye as the van pulled away.

  Alexis stood by the curb and watched the van disappear into traffic. He’s the one! Excitement started to shoot up from her toes. Alexis couldn’t hold it back any longer. She screamed at the top of her lungs. This had been the best day ever!

  On Monday, Alexis combed through the local papers online at the school library for any information about her charro. Alexis started a list in her history notebook of things she learned about him.

  Things I Know:

  Name: Christian Luna

  Junior at Performing Arts High School

  Won best male singer award at the Rodeo Exposition in Corpus Christi last year

  Handsome

  Amazing singer

  Things I Don’t Know:

  Does he like me?

  Does he have a girlfriend?

  Does he like me?

  What’s his favorite song?

  Does he like me?

  The sixth-period bell rang, waking Alexis from her thoughts. It was time for mariachi practice, and she couldn’t help but be nervous. Ever since Mr. Fernandez left the Dos Rios mariachi ensemble, they’d had a string of unqualified teachers. Now it was the assistant principal’s turn. Alexis feared that if he didn’t work out, the school might just scrap the program altogether.

  Alexis took a deep breath and walked down the hallway toward the storage room. When they lost their music teacher, they also lost their nice music studio. With no one to fight on their behalf, they were left sharing a space with the janitorial staff.

  Nikki was waiting for her by the girls’ bathroom. Her guitarrón, a large bass guitar, was strapped over her shoulder with a pink sash. The thing was so big, Alexis always worried that Nikki would tip over from the weight.

  Nikki was chewing on the tip of her braid. “Do you think Castillo will work out?” she asked. Alexis shrugged as she opened the door that led to the storage room. “I hate practicing here,” Nikki added in a low voice. “It’s so cold and depressing.”

  The storage room had been rearranged for their arrival. Broken desks, mops, and brooms had been pushed to the side to make room for a semicircle of chairs and black music stands. Alexis noted a few new faces. Castillo had warned her that he was adding new members to the group. So many seniors had graduated last year that they were left with only three continuing musicians. In order to compete, they had to have at least eight people. But these new members had to be some kind of joke, Alexis thought.

  She counted seven new bodies. Three were dozing off. One girl with a ton of makeup and big reddish hair was chatting loudly on her cell phone. In the back, a scary-looking girl in black sat reading a comic book. Two thug-looking types were scratching their names onto metal chairs. Oh, no, Alexis realized. This is AP Castillo’s “special” group.

  “Hi,” Justin said behind her. Alexis jumped. “Looks like we’ll have a full ensemble now.” He was holding his trumpet case and smiling.

  Alexis wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “Justin, are you serious? Look at them. They’re not musicians. They’re hoodlums.”

  “Who you callin’ hoodlums, fresa?” the girl on the cell phone snapped, closing her phone and slipping it into the pocket of her supertight jeans. She stood and got right up in Alexis’s face. This close, Alexis noticed that she was wearing violet-colored contacts. It made her look a little alien-like with her red-streaked hair and brown skin.

  Alexis glanced around, wondering if anyone was going to step in. The tough girl was about her height, but she looked mean, like she probably fought dirty.

  Suddenly, the door opened, interrupting their argument. A man yelled, “Get in there right now.” Alexis recognized AP Castillo’s voice and sighed with
relief. The assistant principal would realize his mistake and take these guys somewhere else to serve detention. But when Alexis turned around, she was surprised to see her cousin Santiago coming through the door with a frown on his face.

  “Santi,” Alexis cried. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Before Santiago could say anything, AP Castillo slapped him on the back. “He’s the newest member of the Dos Rios mariachi ensemble. Isn’t that right, Santiago?”

  Santiago squirmed a bit under the AP’s firm stare. He finally relented. “Yes, sir.”

  Confused, Alexis looked to AP Castillo. “I don’t understand. None of these guys play instruments.”

  AP Castillo smiled, revealing his clear braces. There was a strange gleam in his hazel eyes. “I figure mariachi is exactly what these guys need. This music is all about taking pride in one’s culture — and the practices will be good to build discipline.”

  Alexis doubled over as if socked in the stomach. Was he intentionally trying to sabotage their chances of competing? Alexis looked from Nikki to Justin for help.

  “It’ll be fun,” Castillo continued as he pulled out a guitar from the closet. “Besides, you need more members and these students need an activity — it’s perfect!”

  “I didn’t know you played the guitar,” Nikki said, perking up a bit.

  “I don’t.” He laughed. “But I’ve been watching some YouTube videos, and I figure we can all start at the beginning together.”

  Alexis felt her dreams slip between her fingertips. Now how was she supposed to compete at the statewide competition and get discovered by a music scout?

  A few days later, Alexis and Santiago went to her family’s restaurant together after practice. She didn’t understand how Santiago had done it, but he had convinced AP Castillo to let him play the accordion. As far as she could remember, Santiago had never shown any interest in their late grandfather’s music. Now he wouldn’t stop jabbering about how this was going to connect him to his roots and how he was having these dreams where their grandfather, Lil Rafa, came to him, blah blah blah. Alexis pushed open the door, welcoming the comforting sounds of a Northern Mexican ballad playing on the old jukebox.