In Your Room (13 page)

Jose came closer to check it out. “A Stumpie,” he said, taking note of the brand. “Wow. It’s the new FSR Comp. Nice, man. How’s it ride?”

“It’s awesome,” Charlie said, perking up. “Really agile and smooth. You cycle?”

“Yeah, my ride’s down there. Give me a second and I can show you some killer trails.”

Jose came back a few minutes later on a customized Stumpjumper from the late nineties. The wheels were pimped with chrome rims, just like on a car, and the frame was a dull black with S
TUMPIE
spray-painted across it in a rainbow of graffiti letters. “Follow me.”

He headed down a steep path off the main road and Charlie followed,
past hikers and people walking their dogs. About a quarter mile along, he cut off the main trail onto a narrow, densely wooded path that led back up the hill. Jose looked back a couple of times to make sure Charlie was keeping up.

“All good,” Charlie yelled out, giving him the thumbs-up signal the next time he looked back. He thought he had already covered the park’s fifty-two miles of trails, but now it felt like Jose was leading him into the heart of the mountain. The deeper in they went, the rougher the terrain, but they charged up faster, feeding off each other’s energy.

They rode along like that for a while, switching off the lead when the trail was wide enough. It had been a while since Charlie had ridden with anyone. It was usually such a solitary experience but it was exhilarating doing it with Jose, on new ground. He felt his heart beat, muscles flex, and lungs expand just a bit more, reminding him what he was made of as they pushed each other forward.

It was a light drop at first, which Charlie mistook as sweat flying off his face, but more followed in quick succession until the clouds exploded with thunder. A few minutes later the sky grew dark and sheets of rain came pouring down on them. The mud trail softened almost instantly, but with a few quick gear shifts, neither of them slowed down.

They were on their way down now, wet mud and rain splashing out as they picked up speed. Almost without warning the trail evened out and spilled out on the other side of the park.

“That was sick, man,” Jose said when they stopped at the bottom. He biked up to Charlie and gave him a high five, their wet hands slapping together.

“You know these trails,” Charlie said, catching his breath.

“It’s practically my backyard, dude.”

With the rain coming down so hard, Charlie had lost his bearings. “Where exactly are we?”

“Welcome to the East Side. Why don’t you come over and wait out this rain? It’ll be a bitch for you to get home now. L.A. driving goes to shit when it rains.” A car whizzing past honked. “See what I mean?”

Charlie looked down at his soaked shirt sticking against him and his mud-splattered legs. The stickers were the only things that had managed to stay dry, thanks to their plastic packaging. “Thanks, man. That’d be great.”

• • •

“You can bring it in here,” Jose said, wheeling his bike down a dark corridor. It had only taken them five minutes to get to his place, just off a busy avenue called Alvarado. Once they’d hit the main roads, Charlie had reoriented himself and realized they were just a few miles east of Molly’s house, but they might as well have been hundreds. He had heard that L.A. was almost half Hispanic, but hadn’t had any sense of how true that was until he got to Jose’s neighborhood. Every billboard, storefront, and sign was suddenly in Spanish, the buses were packed, and actual
pedestrians
, dozens of them, lined the sidewalks even though it was raining. It was the first time he felt like he was in a real city.

They walked up four flights and passed other apartments, many with their doors open as if it was a communal building. Spanish was the only language spoken.

“You remember my grandma,” Jose said, opening the door to apartment 4D.

Before he could answer, Rosalinda rushed toward them, holding out towels as though she had anticipated Jose’s soggy return, the whole time speaking so fast
Charlie wouldn’t have been able to understand her even if it were in English.

She turned to Charlie next, wrapping the towel around his shoulders and guiding him toward the hall. Jose took over and led him to a bedroom in the back. It had a bed and a nightstand containing a lamp, a Bible, and rosary beads. They walked around the screen where there was another bed, a few Spanish posters on the wall, and a dresser.

Jose took out a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and handed them to Charlie. “You can wear these for now,” he said. “I’m going to shower. When you’re ready, Rosalinda will give you something to eat.”

Once he was changed, Charlie went back down the hall to the kitchen.

“Tenga, para usted,”
Rosalinda said, handing him a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Charlie took a sip and gasped. This hot chocolate was…spicy? Rosalinda smiled and held up a bunch of chilies. “Very good,” she said, shaking them. “Very good for you.”

He sat down and warmed his hands around the mug, while his mouth recovered from the chilies. He watched Rosalinda scurry around the kitchen, sprinkling flour over the counter and rolling out a giant mound of dough. He used to love helping Lisa bake when he was a kid. Sally rarely set foot in the kitchen except to refill her coffee.

“Come,” Rosalinda said, motioning for him to stand next to her. She demonstrated how to tear off a chunk of dough, sprinkle it with flour, and spread it out with the rolling pin. Once it was flat, she cut it into triangles and placed them on a greased tray next to her. “You,” she said, when she was done, and walked over to another counter, where she began cutting fresh pieces of pineapple.

Charlie didn’t really know what he was doing but he got to work,
smoothing out the dough and cutting it into shapes that approximated the triangle. A few minutes later, she came back to check on him.

“
Bueno
,” she said approvingly, rubbing his cheek with the back of her hand. It was such an intimate gesture, especially from a stranger, but it felt good. Charlie had never known any of his grandparents, but he imagined this was what it would have been like if he had.

“You a good boy,” Rosalinda said, gazing up at him.

“Thank you.
Gracias
,” Charlie said, which was the extent of his Spanish.

“Celeste, she much, much happier now because she meet you.”

Charlie wanted to ask Rosalinda what she meant or how she knew that, but the language barrier was too big to get any of it across.

She divvied the pineapple chunks out onto the cut pieces of dough, sprinkled them with an orange-colored syrup, and folded the triangles over before placing them in the oven to brown.

“Don’t hold your breath,
Abuelita
,” Jose said, arriving in an outfit almost identical to Charlie’s. “He’s not in love with her.
El ama otra.
”

Rosalinda smiled knowingly and pinched Charlie’s cheek.

“What’d you say to her?” Charlie asked Jose.

“I just told her what you don’t know yet.”

“And what’s that?” Charlie asked, gripping his mug.

“That you’re in love with someone else.”

• • •

Snowpeak99:
there you are.

Mollypop:
hi! how was your day?

Snowpeak99:
i discovered that contrary to popular belief, it does rain in L.A.

Mollypop:
yeah…like twice a year!

Snowpeak99:
i also discovered pinkberry.

Snowpeak99:
correction. i was dragged there by my little sisters.

Mollypop:
and?

Snowpeak99:
can you please explain what the big deal is?

Mollypop:
nope, sorry. i don’t get it either. i’m an old-fashioned ice cream girl myself.

Snowpeak99:
favorite flavor?

Mollypop:
toss-up between rocky road or vanilla, mood depending. yours?

Snowpeak99:
interesting.

Snowpeak99:
i’m a pralines ’n’ cream man when it’s available.

Mollypop:
hmmm…sophisticated.

Snowpeak99:
your sketches are amazing, btw.

Snowpeak99:
the ones on the wall.

Mollypop:
oh…thanks.

Snowpeak99:
hope you don’t mind. i took a closer look.

Mollypop:
no, i don’t mind at all…. i’m just embarrassed cuz no one ever really sees them.

Snowpeak99:
do you realize how talented you are?

Mollypop:
now you’re really embarrassing me!

Snowpeak99:
you’re too modest.

Mollypop:
you don’t know that! we’ve never met….

Snowpeak99:
but i’m right. admit it.

Mollypop:
okay…maybe a little.

Snowpeak99:
you should get paid to do it. that’s how good you are.

Mollypop:
ha! thanks…i wouldn’t go that far, but i was going to apply for an internship in the fall with my favorite designer.

Snowpeak99:
and did you?

Mollypop:
i ended up changing my mind.

Snowpeak99:
how come?

Mollypop:
i don’t know, really…. when i found out we were coming here for the summer, it didn’t seem like i’d be able to do it so i kind of just gave up.

Snowpeak99:
is it too late to change your mind?

Mollypop:
yeah…the deadline’s august 1.

Snowpeak99:
that’s still more than three weeks away. you have to go for it, molly.

Snowpeak99:
you can win it. i know you can.

Mollypop:
i’ll think about it….

Snowpeak99:
what’s holding you back?

Mollypop:
i don’t know…it’s like, i’m not used to anyone seeing my work…. it feels so personal.

Snowpeak99:
but you have to go for it—you have to put it out there and believe that other people will see how talented you are.

Mollypop:
i know you’re right…. it’s just hard to let go sometimes. to trust that everything’s going to be all right.

Snowpeak99:
letting go is when you have the most fun.

Snowpeak99:
you just can’t think about it too much. it’s like riding downhill.

Mollypop:
i can’t believe i’m telling you all this….

Snowpeak99:
i’m glad you are. it’s nice to talk about real things for a change.

Mollypop:
yeah, it is.

Mollypop:
btw, do you compete in bike races? i was wondering because of those trophies in your cabinet…impressive!

Snowpeak99:
thanks. they’re from a couple of years ago when i used to race, but i stopped.

Mollypop:
why? you were obviously really good.

Snowpeak99:
it wasn’t fun anymore and started to feel more like a job in a way, so i decided to quit.

Mollypop:
wow. just like that? do you miss it?

Snowpeak99:
no. once i make up my mind about something, i can just kind of move on.

Snowpeak99:
it’s so much better now because i just go out riding whenever i feel like it, wherever i feel like going, and i don’t have to worry about a training schedule or checking my pace or any of that other stuff.

Mollypop:
so now you just do it because you love it.

Snowpeak99:
exactly. i’ve gotten really into exploring new trails.

Mollypop:
you mean trails you’ve never been on before?

Snowpeak99:
trails no one’s been on. i’ve been riding off-trail and forging new ones.

Snowpeak99:
i’ve made so many now that i started mapping them in this leather journal i bought.

Mollypop:
charlie, that’s the coolest thing i’ve ever heard.

Snowpeak99:
well, thanks. i’ve gotten really into it. i was actually
planning on spending the summer doing it.

Snowpeak99:
i think that wins the dork contest.

Mollypop:
please. you’re talking to a girl who spends her day sorting clothes.

Mollypop:
so i guess the house swap wasn’t on your agenda either.

Snowpeak99:
nope. it wasn’t.

Snowpeak99:
but it’s turning out to be a really good summer.

Mollypop:
yeah…i think so too.

“Hi, Mom,” Molly said, coming into the kitchen after work. A vase of fresh flowers stood in the middle of the table.

“Well, look who’s here,” Laura said, taking a tray out of the oven. “Just in time for some brownies. Oh, and this just came for you.” She handed Molly a small padded envelope.

Molly took one of the warm brownies and sat down to open the package. Her stomach fluttered when she recognized the return address in the lefthand corner: it was her own.

It was from Charlie.

She put the brownie back, took the envelope, and stood up. “I’m going to change first, then I’ll be back down.”

She ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, gripping the envelope between her fingers. She got to her room and sat in the middle of the floor, just like she always did in her own bedroom on the shag carpet, and opened it. A
card and a small, thin, flat package, gift wrapped in colorful balloon paper, spilled out. She read the card first.