Page 19 of Sapphires and Snakes
Because I lied.
TAMAYO
After an afternoon of having my ass handed to me at various video games, I’m more than happy to escape the rec room when Rita kicks me out. Zarina and I say goodbye before we head out, and Rita hugs me extra tight. I shoot Zarina a frown over her shoulder—Rita’s not usually this sappy—but Zarina shakes her head and mouths, “Later.”
“I’ll be back again soon,” I say.
Rita pats my back. “Take care of yourself, hm.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I slip out of her embrace and tip an invisible hat.
She waves us out the door, and we slide into the car.
Zarina sinks back against her seat with a heavy sigh. “Kids are so exhausting.”
I chuckle. “What’d you get up to?”
“I did a makeup session with Ramona and Mais and Georgie.”
“Georgie? Really?” I throw the car in reverse and slowly pull out of the spot. Jaime waves from a window on the second floor, their arm wild.
Zarina laughs, waving back as she answers. “Yeah, she didn’t say much, but she tried some eyeshadow.”
“Wow.” I roll down the window to return Jaime’s wave as I shift gears and pull away.
“What?” Zarina asks.
“Rita and I haven’t been able to get much out of her, and she hasn’t connected with the other kids, really.” Georgie’s the newest arrival to Alphabet House, and the most she’s divulged is that she grew up in New Buckman. The same as me. Of course, Rita has her file since the program works directly with social services, but she doesn’t like to share that information with anyone but the staff, preferring to let the new arrivals forge their own connections and tell their story at their own pace.
“That makes me sad,” Zarina mumbles.
I rub her thigh in comfort, guiding us onto the street with one hand on the steering wheel. “Sounds like today was a good day for her.”
She hums. “Did Harriet do their homework?”
“No idea.”
Zarina smacks my arm. “You’re a bad influence.”
I slide my hand up her thigh and throw her a smirk. “The baddest.”
“Lame.” She rolls her eyes and forces my hand back down to her knee.
I laugh. It’s barely half-past four, but the sun has sunk below the horizon and twilight is settling over the city. Streetlights cast pockets of orange across the pavement as I drive us toward home. Zarina traces the bones of my hand on her leg with the tip of one manicured nail.
“Was it a good day off?” I murmur, not wanting to break the comforting quiet of the car.
“It was.” She rolls her neck to look at me. “Rita was a wealth of information.”
“Oh, no,” I deadpan.
Zarina half-smiles, but the expression falls quickly. “I didn’t know you used to live there.”
I hum in affirmation. Her nail doesn’t stop drawing patterns over my knuckles, but I can barely feel it. My body’s fourteen again, back in my parents’ house, shame burning through my chest as my mother watches me pack a bag with tears streaming down her face. My father stands behind her, face stern. He was a military man, met Mom on deployment in the Philippines. Supposedly, he fell in love with her. In my experience, the man didn’t know how to love anyone, even himself.
Zarina lifts my hand off her thigh and threads her fingers through mine, squeezing. “I’m glad you found Rita and Alphabet House.”
“Yeah.” I don’t offer more, and she doesn’t ask. If she did, I don’t know what I would say. That I left to work for the Gallos? That they betrayed me and left me for dead a couple years later? That I’ve worked every day since to rise up large enough to be able to ruin the Gallos for good?
