Look Both Ways in the Barrio Blanco Read Online Free Page A

don’t like your job?”
    “Let’s just say I don’t like the
environment
.”
    Back then I didn’t understand what the
environment
had to do with Miss not liking her job. But now I know she just didn’t like her boss.
    We drove, not talking. I looked at the gum wrappers on the floor. “If
I
were rich, I’d buy a red convertible.”
    She made the small noise that was almost a snort. “So would I.”
    From behind came a siren. Red and blue lights bounced across the roof of the van. Panic.
    “Oh, hell. I’m not speeding, am I?”
    I couldn’t speak. I wiped my damp hands on the seat.
    The police car flew by and screamed away into the night. Relief flooded through me.
    Miss said, “Thank goodness. We’re late enough as it is.”

SHE DROVE into a
parking garage
.
    I’d never been in one before. “Isn’t that a lot of money to pay to park?”
    “It’s ridiculous, but all of the on-street parking is gone.
Somebody
wasn’t ready when it was time to leave.”
    We climbed wide concrete steps to a big building. It
loomed
. Like a jail.
    “Miss, what kind of meeting is this?” My voice sounded weird and high. I’d been so excited about going with Miss that I hadn’t stopped to wonder where she was taking me.
    “It’s a
meet
. A gymnastics meet.”
    I stopped. “
A what?
”
    Feeling me tug on her hand, Miss turned. Lights from the building outlined her
silhouette
. Her face was a shadow. “Gymnastics. It’s a sport. Like — basketball. You know what basketball is?”
    “Yesss.”
Does she think I’m stupid?
    She started to move again. I yanked my hand away. “I don’t know how to play.”
    Her teeth appeared in the dark. She was smiling. “We’re not going to play. We’re going to watch. It’ll be fun.”
    I wasn’t having fun. Miss smiled because I didn’t know things. But I needed her to like me. When I’d talked to Mamá that afternoon, she’d reminded me that Angélica’s Amiga bought her shoes. “You need new shoes,
mija
.”
    Heart pounding, I followed Miss inside.
    Bright lights and the smell of nachos and popcorn pushed away the gloom and damp. People glanced at us.
    Then they looked again, gaping at Miss.
    She didn’t notice. She was used to being famous.
    The lady taking tickets at the door of the large gymnasium spotted us. “Kathryn Dawson Dahl!”
    She dragged Miss to the head of the line.
    Heads turned. Instead of complaining about us taking cuts, people grinned. Some took pictures. Miss gave them her toothpaste smile. “Hello, everyone!”
    “Is this your daughter?” asked the ticket lady.
    “She’s a friend,” said Miss, still smiling for the cameras. So I did it, too. Like
I
was famous. I
had
been on television with her.
    One of the men lowered his camera. “I’m glad you hired an attorney. That little blonde who replaced you is an airhead.”
    I looked at Miss. Her eyebrows strained to touch in the middle. It hurt my own face to watch her clinging to her smile. “We’d better get our seats.”
    “Goodness, yes! It’s about to start.” The ticket lady let us through, not bothering to take our passes.
    Miss picked a row. As we squeezed past them, people pointed and whispered.
    They think I’m the daughter of someone famous?
    We plopped into seats as the lights went out.
    “Ladies and gentlemen!” A game-show kind of voice echoed from the space above the crowd. “Michener University presents the postseason Women’s Gymnastics Exhibition!”
    Sparklers exploded around the gym.
    I jumped.
    Girls wearing big smiles and tight, glittery black-and-yellow costumes bounced out of the dark. The girls flipped and flitted across the arena like bright little birds.
Gymnastics is nothing like basketball!
    The voice boomed again. “Featuring all-around winner of this year’s N-C-double-A Gymnastic Championships! EVA CHÁVEZ!”
    People leaped to their feet, yelling. We hopped up, too, but I couldn’t see over the lady in front.
    “Stand on the bench!” Miss