Free Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass by Meg Medina

father, Ma. How would I know what he was like? I don’t even know what he looks like thanks to you. I have to hear about my own life from other people at a friggin’ hair salon.”
    She stops rubbing and gives me a careful look.
    “Oh? And who has been talking about us at the salon?”
    “Forget it.”
    She wipes her hands clean, shaking her head in disgust. “That place is like a radio station, you know. It broadcasts everything.” She crosses her arms. “So, what is it, then? Somebody is spreading gossip about me and Agustín?”
    I ignore her.
    “What have you heard?” she asks louder. Her oily hand covers up the words on the page and makes a mentholated stain on the problem I’m trying to work out. “¡Contéstame!”
    I snatch the book away and glare.
    “Do you want me to do my homework, or do you want to bother me all night? Jesus, Ma, you’re such a pain! I can’t stand you!”
    The minute I say it, Ma flinches, and I wish I could eat my ugly words. I’ve never been so mean to her, but now all I want is to make her feel small. I need her company down here at the bottom of this pit, where maybe she can hug me and tell me it’s all right. But she’s made of sturdier stuff. She doesn’t fall after me the way I want. Instead, she sits back and arches her brow.
    She lets out a deep laugh, shaking her head, as if I’m the stupidest little kid she knows. Then she folds the progress report carefully, her hands barely trembling as she leans in.
    “You know what, Piedad Maria Sanchez? This has nothing to do with Agustín. It has to do with you. You’re going to do better in school, you hear me? You’re going to do better, or I’m going to go down and see what’s so hard for you at that new school. Understand? I didn’t sacrifice —”
    I slam my book shut and head for the door. It’s dark outside, and it’s me who’s shaking now.
    “Where are you going all alone? It’s dark,” she says.
    “Away from you!” I shout.
    I ring and ring at the lobby doors, but Lila is not home. The apartment looks dark from the street. She is probably out dancing with her William Levy look-alike. The whole idea makes me even angrier. Worse yet, I didn’t grab a coat, and now I’m shivering under my sweatshirt. I rattle the door to see if someone might have left it loose, but it’s locked tight.
    I’m just about to turn back for home when somebody opens an apartment door inside. It’s Joey Halper. He’s holding his boots in his hands and his army jacket over his shoulder. He looks surprised to see me. Then he stops on the other side of the glass door, cocks his head, and smiles.
    “Trying to get in, Toad?” he asks.
    “Open up.”
    “You have to tell me the secret password.”
    “Is it ‘Shut-up-and-open-the-door-Joey ’?”
    He snorts and shoves his bare feet into his unlaced work boots. Then he opens the door.
    “She ain’t home,” he says as I start to storm past him. He knows exactly who I’m looking for, of course. From the hall, I can hear the canned laughter of the show his father is watching on TV. Joey walks out to the stoop and looks up at the sky as he puts on his coat. The stars are already peeking out. “Come on,” he says.
    The cellar door is around the back of the building, right next to the super’s apartment. The basement has always been creepy, and not just because of the super. It has cracked cement floors and those little windows that only show you people’s feet as they go by. When we were little and bored, Joey and I would play hide-and-seek all over the building, but this was the only place I wouldn’t come to find him, even if I knew for sure that he was here. The super had a rule against kids playing in the basement, and I was scared he’d shut me in that cold, dark place forever if he caught me playing there. That feeling never went away. Even when I got old enough to know better, the padlocked door at the far end always scared me. It led to the storage units for each