“You don’t get it.” Alexis groaned, raising her arms in the air. Then she noticed that everyone was looking at her as if she were possessed.
The serenata had backfired. It was a success in some ways. She had gotten Christian’s attention — and his number! But it was a flop for the ensemble. They hadn’t actually played a successful song. Looking around the room, it seemed like everyone had lost interest in the music. She remembered her conversation with Christian. How she’d defended her bandmates and how mariachi music was so full of passion and soul, but the people who needed to feel that the most were right here in this room. Alexis realized that she’d failed her group. In her single-minded attempt to woo Christian, she’d totally forgotten what was most important in all of this — the music.
Alexis had used her bandmates to make her look good. And they went along with it, not because they believed in the power of the music or the team, but because they liked her. Tears blurred her eyes.
“Whoa, whoa,” Pablo said, putting his arm around her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just thought we could hang out a little, you know, chill out.”
“It’s not that.” She shook her head, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I feel horrible. I’ve been just thinking about my career goals and trying to impress Christian and I forgot what mariachi was really about.”
“I liked doing the serenata,” Nikki said in a quiet voice behind her.
“Me, too,” Karina added, snapping her phone closed. “Even though we didn’t really play, I looked good in my charro outfit. Did you see how the people looked at us?” She beamed and clapped her hands. “It was sweet.”
“Yo,” Pedro cut in. “You should’ve seen the look on our mom’s face when we got home. I’ve only seen my moms cry once before, when my pops got out of jail. It felt real nice to see her smile like that.” His brother, Pablo, nodded in agreement.
Alexis was shocked. “So you don’t think I’m a selfish, self-absorbed fresa?”
“Maybe not selfish,” Karina said with a smirk. “But definitely a fresa.”
Alexis laughed. This mariachi ensemble was nothing like she’d expected it to be. She beamed at the group. “Oh, wait, but what about Castillo? I’ve never seen him so mad before. I think he quit.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” a voice called from the doorway. “I’m no quitter.” AP Castillo pushed someone in front of him. It was Santiago, smiling brightly as if nothing was wrong. AP Castillo followed after him, eyeing Santiago like a hawk. Castillo glanced around the room and frowned at the sight. “I see everyone is here now. I’ve got some news for you guys.” He paused to make sure everyone was listening. “You guys got yourself a real competition,” he announced.
“You can’t do this,” Alexis cried. “We’re not ready yet.”
AP Castillo smiled. “Oh, yes I can. Don’t worry. It’s not a traditional competition, and it won’t be against any of the schools here in the Valley. I just got off the phone with a friend of mine who teaches near Dallas. They’re having a chilifest and a couple of the newer school mariachi clubs are going to have a friendly competition. I think it will be good for you guys.”
“Can’t we just watch from the audience?” Santiago asked.
“Nope,” Castillo stated, crossing his arms. “Besides, I already said we’d be there.”
“When’s the festival?” Alexis asked.
“In three weeks.”
I hate this damn thing,” Karina cried out in frustration in the middle of rehearsal the following week. “Look, I broke another nail.” She fanned her fingers in the air.
“Ayyy, poor baby,” Pablo said in a pouty baby voice behind her.
“I heard that,” Karina snapped.
“Okay, guys.” Justin rose from his seat. His big brown eyes were full of warmth and understanding. “I know we’re all worried about the performance coming up, but we can’t turn on each other. We’re a team.”
“That’s right,” AP Castillo said. “There’s nothing to be worried about. But, Karina, I can tell you haven’t been practicing.”
“Well, maybe I’m just too stupid for this instrument,” she said, hitting the harp in frustration.
Alexis was about to jump in when a familiar voice interrupted. “Her hands are all wrong.”
The whole class turned. Christian Luna smiled from the doorway. He looked like a ray of golden sunshine in the dreary gray room. Christian locked eyes with Alexis. Her heart leapt. Christian’s busy practice schedule had kept them apart since the serenata, but finally, here he was. Alexis tried to stay calm, but she couldn’t keep herself from grinning.
“Your hand is all wrong,” Christian continued in a kind voice. “Look, your right hand needs to be relaxed and curved — like you’re holding a baby chick.” He adjusted Karina’s right elbow so it gave her easier mobility. “And your left elbow should be out, in an L shape.” He pulled her left arm into position. “Like that. Now try playing a C chord.”
Karina looked confused.
“The red chord,” Christian prompted. He caught Alexis’s eye over his shoulder as Karina plucked the chord. The sound was crisp and clear and her nails remained intact.
Castillo cleared his throat. “Thank you, young man. You seem to know a lot about music. Want a job?”
Christian laughed. “Thank you, but I already have a lot on my plate. I just stopped by today because Alexis said you guys might need a little help.”
The guitarists, guitarrón, and vihuela players circled around Christian. He led them in a series of exercises. The musicians took to him like he was one of the team. Alexis caught him looking in her direction as he strummed the chords on the vihuela at a slow pace so that the others could follow. Christian’s eyes sparkled as he encouraged the struggling twins to keep up. At the end of rehearsal, everyone was smiling. The group was far from ready to compete, but they were getting better.
After practice, Christian invited Alexis out to dinner. Alexis called her mom for permission to stay out late and to tell her all about Christian’s surprise visit. Magda told her to have fun and promised to wait up to get all the details. Christian took Alexis to a fancy restaurant in La Joya that had a thatched roof woven with palm-tree leaves. They sat on the patio, which overlooked a large pond. It felt like a dream to be sitting with Christian, sipping on virgin margaritas. Glancing at the menu, she noticed how expensive all the dishes were. The fajitas were twice what her parents charged at their restaurant.
A band started to play. The musicians approached the line of tables, taking requests for a small fee. They played “Solamente una Vez.” Alexis couldn’t help singing softly with them as she sipped from her glass and swayed to the chorus.
“Do you want to sing?” Christian asked.
Alexis shook her head. “Not now. I just like listening.”
His eyes sparkled as he reached to hold her hand. “What other mariachi songs do you like?”
Alexis took another sip from her drink and smiled. “Well, I actually have a confession to make. I just started learning mariachi songs last year.”
“Really?”
“I know all the famous songs everyone knows, like ‘Volver Volver’ and ‘El Rey,’ and of course ‘Las Mañanitas.’ But I didn’t really get into it until recently. I grew up singing my grandpa’s conjunto music. Puro Tex-Mex,” she said, imitating her grandma Trini.
“Aah, I get it. So music runs in your family.”
“Yeah, I guess. My grandfather was really famous in his time. He’s even in the Tejano Roots Hall of Fame museum. It’s a small picture by the water fountain, but he’s there.”
Christian smiled, looking impressed.
Alexis licked her lips. “One day, I’ll be there, too — at least, I hope so.” She felt her cheeks get hot. “What about you? What kind of music do you like?”
He shrugged. “I like all kinds of music. Recently I’ve even started writing my own rancheras.”
“Really?” Alexis couldn’t hide her i
nterest. “What do you write about?”
Christian’s cheeks reddened. “Promise not to laugh?” Alexis nodded. “Well, I wrote this one song about these two brothers who were wanted for breaking hearts and breaking heads on both sides of the Rio Grande.” He laughed. “It’s so corny.” Christian sang the last line out loud. “If you see the Salinas brothers coming near your daughter/Let them steal a kiss, if you value your heart.” He smiled proudly when he was done.
Alexis jerked like she’d been rudely awakened from a beautiful dream. “Wait! Are you talking about Brandon and Travis Salinas?”
“You know them?” Christian asked.
Alexis thought about the song in Karina’s truck and the way Christian had looked so familiar to her at the university concert. He didn’t just remind her of the guy she’d seen with the Salinas brothers — he was that guy. The Salinas brothers were always getting her cousin into trouble. “Those knuckleheads would get slapped all the way to Hidalgo if they tried to steal a kiss from me,” she said.
Christian laughed. “I bet they would!” Then he took a deep breath and said: “That’s just what they wanted me to sing for them, though. I didn’t make up the words. I just arranged the lyrics with the music so they sounded good.”
“So they paid you to write songs about them?”
Christian nodded. “Yeah. I’ve done it for other people, too. For two hundred bucks I’ll even sing it and make them a CD.”
It was suddenly clear to Alexis how Christian could afford to treat her to such a nice dinner. She wasn’t sure she liked knowing he took money from people like the Salinas brothers.
“Isn’t that lying? Brandon and Travis didn’t shoot up a town.”
“It’s just fiction.” He gestured like it was no big deal. “Like in the movies.”
Alexis pressed her lips together. This was definitely different than some old movie. “It sounds a lot like you’re writing narcocorridos.”
Christian sat up straight. “I wish. Those guys make thousands of dollars for songs.” He noticed Alexis’s disapproval and lowered his voice. “I probably wouldn’t do it if I didn’t really need the money. I’m trying to save up for college, you know? I’m not a citizen. The out-of-state tuition is steep. That’s why I’ve been working so hard, and writing these songs on the side.”
Alexis softened. “It’s not fair,” she whispered, growing upset.
Christian smiled. “The University of Texas has the best music program in the country. They have this scholarship —”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get it. You’re the best,” Alexis interrupted. She frowned at the checkered tablecloth on the table. She couldn’t get his songwriting out of her head. “Writing narcocorridos is dangerous. What if the Salinas brothers don’t like your song? People get killed over those songs. My grandma Alpha says they’re illegal to play on the radio in Mexico.”
The roving musicians approached their table and asked if they wanted a song, just as the sizzling fajitas arrived. Christian nodded for her to pick one. When she wouldn’t, he leaned over to the guitar player and asked for a song.
The musicians plucked expertly at their instruments, producing a quick chachacha beat. She had heard the song before. But when Christian began to sing the lyrics to her, she thought she was going to melt. He sang about dark eyes, cinnamon skin, and colorful flowers. It didn’t matter that the song wasn’t written for her. Alexis wanted to pretend that it was. She waited for the chorus to come around and sang back:
“Me importas tú, y tú, y tú, y solamente tú.”
It was the perfect song to declare that they liked each other. The couples seated around them turned with bright eyes and dancing smiles. Christian rose from his chair. He took Alexis’s hand, lifting her up and spinning her slowly with the beat of the music. When the song ended, the crowd cheered. Alexis blushed. She hadn’t realized they were making such a scene. But she was too happy to be embarrassed.
Suddenly, a familiar cackling voice shouted for another one. Alexis looked to see where the request came from and stopped when she spotted a shadowy figure seated all alone at the far end of the establishment. Was that the old woman from the botánica? “La bruja!” She gasped in disbelief.
The musicians nodded and began to play the traditional Veracruz classic. Christian shot Alexis a confused look. She waved him away and told him that she had to go to the bathroom. Alexis’s heart pounded as she made her way toward the woman from the botánica. What was she doing here? It seemed too strange to be just a coincidence. The old woman couldn’t have any idea that Alexis had found the boy she’d been longing for, could she?
When she reached the table she thought the woman had been seated at, no one was there. Alexis looked around, shaking her head in confusion.
A cool wind swept past her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She rubbed her arms and peered out into the darkness. Bright yellow eyes blinked back from a nearby tree.
Suddenly, Christian called out to her. Alexis turned, relieved at the interruption. She started to walk toward him when she heard an owl cry. Her heart thumped as she thought about the Lechuza stories she’d heard as a child. Old women who turn into owls don’t really exist — right? Alexis reassured herself. She slowly glanced over her shoulder, back to where she’d seen the yellow eyes. But there was nothing there. Had she imagined it?
Alexis refused to allow the spooky moment at the restaurant to darken her weekend. Her date with Christian had been too good to be true. Alexis was so happy, she wanted the whole world to celebrate with her. A fun polka was playing on the jukebox at her family’s restaurant when she walked in. Alexis bobbed her head in time with the beat. She kissed her grandpa Frank on his warm cheek, almost making him spill his coffee. When she tried to twirl her sister, Fabi, around like they were on a dance floor, her sister cried: “What’s gotten into you?”
Alexis sighed. “I just love life.”
Her sister rolled her eyes and handed her a bucket. “All right, Twinkle Toes, then why don’t you show that table some love and clear it.” She gestured toward the front of the room.
“No problem,” Alexis replied, swaying her hips across the floor. “I love to help.” She hummed along to the music as she set several dirtied plates, cups, and crumpled napkins into the bucket.
The door chimed behind her, but Alexis hardly noticed. Her head was filled with blissful memories of the night before. She pressed her fingertips lightly to her mouth. Christian’s sweet lips had left a permanent imprint. She couldn’t wait to kiss him again.
“Are you Alexis Garza?” a voice behind her asked.
“That’s me. Can I help you with something?” Alexis asked.
A woman loomed in front of her. She had thick, hairy arms covered in gold bracelets and wore a flashy floral-print dress. She had a handsome face, but her eyes were so severe that Alexis felt like they were trying to stab her. “I am Viola Luna, Christian’s mamá,” she said in a thick Spanish accent.
Alexis jolted. Christian’s stories about his mom being strict and controlling had made her feel anxious about meeting her. But she’s here at the restaurant now, Alexis thought. Maybe she’s come to say hello and reach out to Christian’s new girlfriend? Alexis’s smile brightened in anticipation. She wiped her hands on her jeans and started to introduce herself.
Viola looked at her hand and frowned. “Christian has no time for girls. He needs to practice.” Although Mrs. Luna’s words were harsh, her eyes gave away her deep concern. “He has a big audition for college soon.”
“Oh, I had no idea.”
“Christian is always gone. He says he’s studying, but he doesn’t take his instruments. Stay away from my Christian. He’s my only son. I don’t want him to lose this chance we’ve worked so hard for.”
Alexis stared as the door chimed closed behind Viola Luna. Her first thought was to call Christian and tell him about her encounter with his mother. But then she thought about his upcoming audition and his need to stay focused. S
he didn’t want to jeopardize anything for him.
“You all right?” her sister asked, startling Alexis with her cold touch.
“I’m fine,” Alexis said after a moment. “That was Christian’s mom. She told me to stay away from her son.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, like I’m some kind of bad influence. Can you believe it?”
Their mother walked up to them. She put her hands on her hips in a no-nonsense manner. Despite her mother’s petite size, she commanded order with her sheer presence. “There’re customers waiting to sit.” She motioned toward a group of four standing by the door. “Muévanse,” she ordered.
Fabi jumped and grabbed a couple of forks from the table and tossed them into the dish bucket. Alexis wiped the table clean as her sister prepared it for the next customers. Then she carried the heavy bucket and her heavy heart back to the kitchen.
Christian called her several times over the weekend. Alexis texted him that she was sick, probably contagious, actually. Alexis didn’t want to lie, but the truth was so much harder. Christian had a blossoming career to think about, and she didn’t want to get in the way. She would keep away until his audition, she told herself. After that, she wouldn’t let anyone keep them apart. The thought of his mother made her break out in a nervous sweat. She quickly removed the image of Viola Luna’s angry frown from her mind.
Instead, she thought about the mariachi ensemble. Since Christian’s visit last week, the group seemed more focused and driven. Their first performance was coming up fast.
Maybe it won’t be so bad, she told herself, trying to put on a smile as she arrived to practice the following school day. At least the group looked good in their charro outfits.
As she opened the door, the sounds of people shouting alarmed her. Her bandmates were yelling and pointing fingers at one another. Pedro pushed Justin against the wall while AP Castillo yelled at Santiago. Karina threatened Pablo with her fists in the air, and Nikki was bawling her eyes out in a chair.
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