Falling Too Fast

by Malín Alegría

  Suddenly, the sound of violins filled the auditorium. Then a sweet melody from the trumpets joined the violins. Alexis felt consumed by the music. She glanced at her teammates and noticed the look of rapture in their eyes. They really like it! Alexis thought happily. Alexis’s heart skipped when a familiar voice rose to join the melody. It was Christian! She didn’t recognize the song, but she could tell that it was fun and flirty by the way he moved across the stage. When the song ended, Alexis heard her group sigh. She smiled. They were hooked.

  Then her cell phone rang. She’d downloaded a mariachi ringtone onto her phone just last week. Now that crazy song was filling up the whole room — and drawing unwanted attention to their presence. The musicians onstage all turned in her direction. The music director shouted:

  “Who’s over there?”

  Alexis’s heart leapt into her throat. The phone was still ringing and she couldn’t get it to stop.

  “Spies! I knew we’d get spies,” the director cried, throwing his music sheets in the air. “Will someone get the lights and hunt those people down?”

  Someone grabbed Alexis’s hand and pulled her out of the darkened hall. It was Justin. They all hurried out of the building, down the stairs, and across the lawn, not looking back. Alexis’s pulse was racing. They could not get caught, she thought. The group would be banned from ever performing and she could kiss all her dreams good-bye. Luckily, no one seemed to have followed them out into the parking lot.

  Her phone rang again. Alexis looked at the number. It was Santiago. She was going to kill him.

  “Yo, Alexis, where you at?” Santiago asked casually. “Castillo’s been looking for you. He’s pretty ticked off. He thinks you ditched mariachi practice.”

  Alexis gasped. In her rush to show the group a real mariachi performance, she had totally forgotten about AP Castillo. “Tell Castillo I’m sorry. I took the group on a field trip.”

  “Field trip? And you didn’t invite me?” Santiago said, sounding hurt. “Hey, listen to this,” Santiago said, putting down the phone. She glanced at the group catching their breath around her. They were giving her curious looks. Before she could say anything, garbled wheezing tones came out from the other end of the phone. It was painful to hear. It sounded like a dying mule crying out in pain. There was a pause and then Santiago came back on the phone. “So … what do you think?”

  Alexis noted the excitement in his voice. “Not bad,” she lied. “Keep practicing.”

  “I will,” Santiago said. “I think I have a knack for this thing. Like it’s in my blood, or something.”

  Alexis thought back to what Justin said about mariachi music being in their veins, and smiled. “Yeah, I think it is.”

  The group split into the two carloads they’d come in, promising to meet for practice the following day. Alexis lingered a bit in the school parking lot, not wanting to leave. This was her chance to study Christian. She could find out what he did after practice. Did he have a job? Or a girlfriend he walked home?

  “Hey, fresa, forget something?”

  “My name’s not fresa! It’s Alexis. I hate it when you call me fresa, okay?” Alexis spat, spinning around quickly. Karina flinched, turning red. She was sitting behind the wheel of a dark blue Ford Bronco monster truck. Marisol and Nikki stared from inside the car, surprised by Alexis’s reaction. Alexis blushed.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I was just … I was thinking about …”

  “She’s waiting for a guy,” Nikki blurted.

  Alexis shot her best friend a heated stare. How dare she reveal her secret in front of these strangers?

  Karina’s violet eyes lit up. “Boy stalking is my specialty. Hop in.” She motioned with her hand.

  The girls rearranged themselves so that Alexis could sit in the front. Corrido music was playing on the radio. Karina explained that it was an original narcocorrido, a popular northern ballad–style of music that focused on the activities of drug dealers, including beheadings, burning houses, and shootings. This song was written for her boyfriend. He was a narco, Karina bragged. Alexis knew that narco was short for “drug dealer.” Alexis liked the danceable polka-like beat despite the gruesome song lyrics. The singer’s voice sounded familiar. She wondered if she’d heard the song on the radio before.

  Alexis forgot about the narcocorrido when Nikki squealed at the sight of the musicians coming out of the music building. She studied each student as they walked down the steps. What if Christian stayed late or slipped out another door? Then she spotted him walking alone.

  “That’s him! That’s him!” Alexis cried.

  “Qué chulo,” Karina admired.

  Alexis jerked as if she’d been hit with a jealous stick. Karina noticed.

  “Don’t worry, Alexis. I have a boyfriend, remember?”

  Alexis’s cheeks flushed. She felt so childish as she mumbled an apology. Karina gestured for her to forget about it.

  “He won best male singer last year,” Nikki commented from the backseat.

  Suddenly, Alexis noticed that Christian was heading straight toward them. “Duck down! Duck down!” she hissed as Christian passed right in front of their truck. He hurried through the parking lot and disappeared behind a car. Her heart beat wildly. “Do you think he saw us?”

  “I doubt it,” Nikki said, grinning. “So … now what?”

  Alexis turned and gave Karina a knowing glance.

  “Now this is what I call fun,” Karina said as she pulled into traffic. Alexis couldn’t help but be impressed with Karina’s boy-stalking technique. They followed Christian from a discreet distance down the street, and then for another five blocks. Finally, he headed straight into an older four-plex apartment building. Alexis noticed the gang signs spray-painted on the ground-floor wall. Then she looked at the teen-age boys in front of the complex drinking and playing rap music from a car.

  “So …” Karina said, tapping her manicured nails on the steering wheel. “We could try to climb to the window for a peek.”

  Alexis blushed. “Really? Have you done that before?” Karina was bold and gutsy. Alexis couldn’t help but like her.

  Nikki nudged her from behind. “Go find out which apartment he lives in.”

  Alexis shook her head. “But what if he sees me? I don’t want him to think I’m a crazy stalker or anything.”

  “Well, you kind of are,” Nikki said in a teasing way. “But so what? I think it’s romantic. Besides, don’t you want to go see which apartment is his? I know I would.”

  Nikki was cut short by the sound of a door slamming shut. Alexis jerked back and noticed that scary girl Marisol was no longer in the car. She watched in horror as Marisol crept toward the apartment complex like a black cat.

  “Wait!” Alexis yelled. Karina started to laugh. “What’s she doing?” Alexis asked.

  Nikki hushed her. “Let her go.”

  Marisol crossed the driveway. The boys in front of the complex called out to her, making kissing sounds. But Marisol must have shot them one of her scary-girl looks, because they shut up. Marisol went up to the second floor. Alexis’s heart thumped wildly as she watched her move toward the door Christian had entered just moments ago. She couldn’t see very well from inside the car and thought about getting out. But just as suddenly, Marisol was rushing back down the stairs.

  She jumped into the car just as the door on the second floor opened and an older woman in a floral dress and short hair stepped onto the porch.

  “Drive,” Marisol said, out of breath.

  Karina turned on the ignition and sped down the street. The girls screamed as they rode away.

  “Did you see anything?” Alexis cried, turning to Marisol in the backseat.

  A small smile danced on Marisol’s lips. “He lives in apartment number four.”

  Alexis twirled a pencil in her hand as she tried to decide what to do. She stared across the table at Nikki, who was struggling over her Geometry worksheet. The two friends often did their hom
ework together at the Garza family restaurant. Stop procrastinating, Alexis scolded herself. Nikki probably thought she was doing her Geometry, too. But Alexis was actually grappling over a letter to Christian she’d been unsuccessfully trying to write for the past half hour.

  She wanted Christian to like her, but she wasn’t sure how to make that happen. It had been so much easier with her previous boyfriends. Boys had always seemed to like her. Well, they used to. Now she was the one doing the pursuing. Who knew writing a love letter would be so hard?

  Nikki glanced up and noticed Alexis’s frustration. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Alexis lied and glanced around the room. Her family’s restaurant was bustling with customers, loud Mexican music, and busy waitstaff. Her sister walked by, balancing several plates of delicious-smelling food. Her stomach rumbled. “Fabi,” she cried out, “we’re hungry.”

  “Get up and serve yourself, then,” her sister barked.

  Just then, Nikki snatched Alexis’s letter from her hands. “What’s this?” Nikki asked.

  “It’s nothing,” Alexis said, lunging across the table to get the letter back.

  Nikki pulled back and read aloud, “‘Dear Chris. Can I call you Chris?’”

  Alexis glanced around the restaurant, hoping no one in her family could hear. Her ears burned fiery hot. She couldn’t believe Nikki! Her friend continued reading. “‘I’m the girl who saved you from the mob at the college fair. I just wanted to write you a letter and say …’” Nikki stopped and looked up at Alexis. “Say what? That I loooooooove you?”

  Alexis got ahold of the paper and ripped it. “Hey, that’s personal.”

  “What’s personal?” her grandma Trini asked, coming up to their table and patting her new updo. Trini’s dark hair was teased up in a messy bun with ringlets framing her heart-shaped face. Trini noticed the torn paper in both girls’ hands. She pulled a chair from another table and joined them.

  “What did you say to her?” Abuelita Alpha scolded as she crossed the room. “Those children have innocent ears. Don’t be telling them any stories about going to the Island for Spring Break.”

  Trini flinched and her cheeks reddened. “I said nothing of the sort. For being such a good Catholic, you sure have a dirty mind.” That shut Alpha up.

  Alexis sat up. She had to squash the dispute before it got out of hand. “Fine! I’ll tell you. But you have to promise to not fight.” She waited until both old ladies nodded. “I was just writing a letter to the boy I have a crush on. But every time I try, it just sounds so dumb.” She gestured to the crumpled papers littering the table surface.

  “No, you’re going about it all wrong,” Alpha said, pulling out her rosary from her brassiere. “What you should do is get down and pray to San Antonio.”

  I’ve already tried that, Alexis thought.

  “A love letter.” Trini clapped her hands, ignoring Alpha. “We’d love to help.”

  Alpha stopped praying and looked at Trini sideways. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

  “Of course it should be us,” Trini said, placing her hand on her bosom. “We are the matrons of the family, and it is our duty to train our granddaughter in the art of el amor.”

  Alexis glanced at Nikki. She was grinning ear to ear. Alexis couldn’t resist smiling in response, a glimmer of hope fluttering in her chest. Maybe they could help. She picked up her pen and prepared to write.

  “Okay, mija, take this down word for word,” Trini said, twirling a ringlet with her finger as she thought. Trini took a deep breath and sang in a passionate voice: “Hey there, tall, dark, and handsome. When you pass by, my knees go weak and my heart whirls in a sweet dream. I long to kiss those lips, touch your skin, and breathe you into my soul …”

  “That’s a song!” Nikki cried.

  Trini blushed and rested a hand to her heart. “I can’t help it if everything I learned about love is from the radio.”

  “Those are horrible lyrics.” Alpha shook her head in disgust. “You could have at least chosen a happy song.”

  “Song?” Nikki said, her eyes growing round. “That’s it!” Nikki grabbed Alexis’s hand. “Don’t write, sing.”

  “Sing him a letter?” Alexis asked, glancing from Nikki to her grandmothers.

  “Oh, yes.” Trini batted her eyes. “A serenata would be so much better than a stupid love letter. The serenata is truly romantic. It’s part of our culture, our heritage. In the movies it’s always a guy who comes to a girl’s window at night to confess his feelings for her.” Trini’s eyes sparkled as she sighed. “Then the girl turns on the lights and comes onto her balcony to show the boy that she likes him, too.”

  “I must agree with your grandma Trini,” Abuelita Alpha said in a grave voice. “No one can resist a serenata. It takes real guts to sing your heart out in front of the whole world.” She glanced sideways at Grandpa Frank sitting at the opposite end of the counter with a bunch of his buddies. “I always wished someone would sing me a serenata. Young people nowadays know nothing about romance.” She frowned. “They send a beep on your phone and that’s it, you’re engaged.”

  Alexis laughed. “Abuelita, it’s not like that.”

  “Ah no?” Alpha shot her a challenging look. “Look at your cousin. Have you ever seen him bring a girl flowers or write a letter? He just beep beep on the phone and the girl beep back and that’s it.”

  “She’s right,” Trini agreed. “In the old days, men were men and they treated women like precious flowers. That’s how your granddaddy Lil Rafa won my heart.” Trini sighed, resting her manicured palm over her heart. “The serenata is powerful. It can turn any frog into a prince.” Trini caught herself. “Not that you’re a frog, honey.”

  “Don’t you two have anything better to do than put crazy ideas in Alexis’s head?” Everyone turned at the severe tone in Fabi’s voice.

  Alexis glanced at her sister’s frown. Fabi’s stance was like a brick wall. The last time Fabi listened to Grandma Trini, she ended up dancing at her quinceañera with a handsome stranger who everyone swore was the devil. But this was different, she told herself. The serenata idea wasn’t that crazy. It was just a little old-fashioned. Alexis glanced at Nikki.

  “Alexis, it’s perfect,” Nikki said, her eyes growing bright. “Christian seems like the kind of guy who’s big on theatrics. He does call himself El Charro Negro. I think he’d be blown away by a serenata. We can even get some people from the group to perform and everything.”

  “You think they would help?”

  Nikki nodded. Alexis felt the excitement building in her stomach. The serenata was a pretty good idea. Christian would have to like it, she thought. He obviously liked mariachi — and who could resist a romantic gesture like this?

  The following week, Alexis arrived late to mariachi rehearsal. The printer in the school library had run out of ink and she had to wait for the librarian to put in a new cartridge so she could finish printing her serenata lyrics. All weekend, she’d been searching for Spanish ballads without much luck. Most of the songs were about heartbreak or eternal love. Alexis needed something fun — like her. The librarian recommended the song “Me Gustas Mucho” — “I Like You a Lot.” It was a cute, flirty song about a girl who didn’t care what people said or how long it took, she would not give up or let anything come between them.

  “Mr. Castillo?” Alexis asked.

  “Assistant Principal Castillo,” he corrected.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, sir. I think we should try this song today,” she said, smiling brightly.

  AP Castillo reviewed the music. Overall, he was very supportive and encouraged Alexis to take an active part in leading the group — especially since everyone had started showing up on time for rehearsals after her unauthorized “field trip.” Alexis played a version of the song sung by a legendary Mexican singer for the group on the CD player. No one seemed impressed. Then she told them about her plan to serenade Christian. That did the trick. Nikki, Marisol, and Karina thought i
t was romantic. The twins didn’t believe she’d go through with it. Justin turned bright red, and Santiago fell out of his chair laughing. He can stay home, she thought.

  Alexis was determined to whip the group into shape for her serenata. She forced herself to stay positive. All they needed was practice — lots of practice. She did not include her cousin in this analysis. Alexis winced as Santiago punched a bunch of random buttons on the accordion. She brought her hands to her ears. “What is that?” she asked, interrupting their practice. The group had been rehearsing the song all week. Alexis hoped that they would be ready to do the serenata by next Friday. But the new musicians were still learning their finger positioning, and Santiago was doing his own thing.

  “You like it, huh?” He smiled. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to make my sound special. I’ve been watching these videos with this guy named Steve Jordan. Man plays with his eyes closed and everything. He’s the best, even bigger than Grandpa. I’m going to be like him.”

  “That’s fine, but we’re supposed to be playing together,” Alexis reminded him, trying to make her voice sound calm. Time was slipping by, and soon Christian’s group would be traveling across the state for competitions.

  “Yo, prima, you can’t rush art. Besides, I think it’s better to be organic. Forget the music. Let’s just play from our hearts.” He threw the music sheets in the air with a dramatic flourish.

  The rest of the group laughed until AP Castillo growled at Santiago to pick up his music and begin again. Castillo gave Santiago too many chances, Alexis thought. Her cousin never took anything seriously. Her heart dropped, and tears threatened to spill, as the musicians started to play her song. They were a mess. The guitars were off tempo. Karina kept complaining about her nails. But there was no going back, she told herself. The group had to get better. If she was ever going to get the chance to compete or get Christian to notice her, she had to get the group ready to perform. They were going to do the serenata, whether they were ready or not.