Page 52 of Resurrection
"Not when he thinks he can get away with it." I offered her my hand to helpher up, and she grabbed it. When our fingers brushed, there were sparks all over my skin.
"But he won't, not if I can help it," she mumbled, pulling her hand away all of sudden.
I wondered if she felt it too—those sparks. I wondered if it scared her the same way it scared me.
The parking lot baked in the afternoon heat.
It still felt like summer break, except school had started, and the only breaks were the ones my heart felt every time I saw Naomi. I rode my bicycle to where Jose Medina’s food truck was parked in front of the hardware store.
There was some sale event there this weekend, so this was the perfect spot for The Gobbler.
The name was splashed across the side of the truck in big, cartoonish pink letters, and it was like a beacon, hard to miss, and the entire lot smelled like Jose’s signature carne asada.
Naomi saw me coming, and her smile was bright enough to block out the sun. "Hey, Ty!" she called.
I parked my bike against the curb and waved, feeling a little embarrassed that my transportation wasn’t as cool as Adri’s. He'd graduated earlier this year and drove a truck now. Despite his parents’ desire to send him off to some community college, he never got in.
He didn’t even try.
Instead, Adri was working with his family at The Gobbler—doing deliveries and catering and all the other errands.
I saw him from time to time, coming and going early in the morning or late at night. Heard his new ride rumbling like a beast under my window. I saw him at The Gobbler too, handling the grill. But today, he wasn’t here. He was up north, talking to some suppliers on behalf of his dad.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and people were crowding the order window, where Mrs. Medina was ringing up customers. I stood off to the side, watching them all work, but my attention was mostly on Naomi. I wasn’t hungry. I’d eaten a meal at home before I came, but there was this little voice inside my head whispering constantly that I needed to see her. Sometimes, it felt like I’d run out of time soon.
"You want something?" she shouted at me between handing out orders.
I shook my head and mouthed a question, "When's your break?"
"Soon," she mouthed at me.
Her long hair was tied back, but a few strands clung to her face in the heat.It was hard not to stare. Harder not to grin like a complete idiot when she looked my way.
Jose was flipping something delicious on the grill. His movements were quick and practiced, and the way he navigated that small space made it look easy.
"Tyler!" he shouted, his voice full of warmth. "How's school treating you?"
I shrugged, trying to look cool. "It’s alright."
Naomi rolled her eyes and handed me a soda through the window. I cracked it open and took a sip. It was ice-cold and nice. "You trying to get rid of me already?" I joked.
Jose laughed, a deep, hearty sound. "Not a chance,mijo. How’s that leaky sink doing?"
"Dad got it fixed."
"That's good," Jose said, nodding as he wrapped up a burrito with the kind of skill that came from years of practice. He was a stocky man of medium height, with warm-brown eyes that matched Naomi's and Adri’s. Even in the heat, he seemed full of energy, moving like a guy half his age. "I hear your band has another show coming up."
I nodded. "Yes, sir. Next Friday at Pepe’s."
"You hear that, wife?" He turned to Letty for a second. "Kid’s got another show."
"Then we better make time."
The Medinas hadn’t seen The Rejects yet, and I was actually excited. Anytime a grown-up expressed interest in our band, it made me feel accomplished.
"Can I take a break?" Naomi asked casually. Her parents exchanged glances, then Jose nodded his approval. "But don’t go too far. We can get slammed at any time."
"We’ll just sit over there under the trees." She gestured at the bench across the lot, already removing her apron.
