Free Look Both Ways in the Barrio Blanco by Judith Robbins Rose

with
you
sometime?”
    She smiled. A new smile. Small and soft. I thought she might say something about spending time with me. Instead she said, “It wasn’t punishment. It was your opportunity to fix things. If you break something, you’re obligated, right?”
    I thought of my picture frame — the one she’d ruined — and nodded. “Right.”

“SEE, MISS? It says we owe a lot of money.”
    She took the letter from my shaking hand.
    The envelope said CITY OF MAPLEWOOD . I knew it would be about gymnastics, so I’d opened it, even though it was addressed to Papi. But I was afraid to show it to him.

    I was glad that my sisters were at Tía’s when Miss arrived. I needed her to tell me what to do. Looking back, the answer was simple. I should’ve thrown the letter away.
    “Miss, how’d they know our address?”
    She glanced over the top of the letter. “It was on the application.” Then her face went all weird. “The address line was blank, so I filled it in. Your dad didn’t do that on purpose, did he?”
    I wrapped a lock of hair around a finger. “No. He probably just forgot.”
    Miss look relieved. “That’s what I figured.”
    She took her cell phone from her purse and punched in the number at the bottom of the letter. “Good afternoon, Mr. Benton. This is Kathryn Dawson Dahl.”
    Miss used her whole name
. I smirked.
Leverage
.
    “Well, thank you, but I’m hoping to get back to anchoring. Until then, I’m mentoring one of the daughters of the Juárez family. They submitted an application for scholarships?”
    Pause
.
    “They got the letter, but there’s no way they can pay for all of this. What about just the gymnastics class?”
    I heard a man’s voice rumbling.
    “Sure, but based on their income, I hoped you’d drop the charge.”
    Her face froze and she turned away from me.
    “You can’t assume that. The girls were born in Colorado.” I tried to imagine what Mr. Benton was saying. I walked around Miss so I could read her face, but she turned away again.
    “The parents’ status has nothing to do with it. The family pays sales tax, so they contribute to your budget, but they’re not receiving services.”
    “Miss —?” I chased her in circles, trying to tell her to forget it.
    “I’d like to speak with your supervisor.”
    Sharp words came through the phone line. Laser beams shot out of Miss’s eyes. If Mr. Benton had seen them, his words would’ve jumped back down his throat. “No, that’s not the end of it. Believe me, Mr. Benton, this is
not
the end of it.”
    Irritated, she punched a button on the phone, then stared at the wall. Her laser-beam eyes looked like they’d burn a hole right through it. So I was surprised when she spoke. Her voice wasn’t angry. It was
thoughtful
.
    “Jacinta, it’s none of my business, but I don’t want to start something I can’t finish. Do your parents have documentation?”
    An earthquake rocked my world.
    Never, ever, had anyone asked me that. Even other Mexicans didn’t ask.
    Miss didn’t know that she’d stepped
way
over
la línea
. Much too
personal
.
    I didn’t want to answer her. I needed time to
think
. My hand found my hair and began twisting. “Of course my parents have papers.”
    Miss nodded. “That makes things simpler.” She started punching buttons on her phone. “Maplewood, Colorado. City manager’s office.”
    At her last three words, my knees turned all watery. I waited until we were in the van before asking. “That lady you called — was that Mr. Benton’s boss?”
    “His boss’s boss.”
    A trickle of sweat tickled my side. “Is Mr. Benton in trouble?” What I meant was,
Am
I
in trouble?
    She made her most
dignified
snort. “That would be a yes.”
    I waited in the chilly gymnastics room for the instructor. Hunched on a mat, with my Michener Mountaineers T-shirt pulled over my knees, I tried to keep warm.
    The temperature wasn’t the only reason I was trembling. Blond girls with ponytails bounced