Page 35 of Resurrection
Giving me a wink, he flipped a quesadilla, let it sit there for a second until it was crispy enough, then slipped it onto a paper plate. I was already speed garnishing it with some radishes and limes and our signature red slaw.
"You’ve got the magic touch today,mija," he said, watching me create flowers from cilantro and veggies.
Food spoke to me in a similar way that it spoke to my parents. Customers, especially kids, liked when their plates looked pretty, be it a smiley face or a bird or an animal.
"Number thirty-six," I shouted, setting the plate on the counter and scanning the growing crowd outside the truck. My eyes landed on Ty. He was halfway down the line, alone, watching me push the food out as fast as I could.
I felt self-conscious all of a sudden in my bright yellow work tee withThe Gobblerwritten in red across my chest. I had my hair in a messy bun, and there was a coat of sweat on my neck.
What if I look ugly like this?The thought went through my head.
The world outside the truck was loud and bright, a mess of colors and voices. People gathered around us, eating and talking and spilling into the sunlit street.
But I couldn’t see it today. I could only see Tyler Brady inching closer to thewindow, where my mom was back to taking orders after her yelling match with Adri, who allegedly had football practice again.
"Tyler," Mom said excitedly. "Nice to see you here."
"I’m a big fan," he said with a grin.
"Son, how are you?" Dad threw over his shoulder, waving a spatula in the narrow space.
"Hey," I tossed at him casually, trying to keep my eyes on the plate in front of me. I was working on making a pine tree, but it looked crooked. This was the first time I experienced the Tyler Brady effect. My brain said one thing, but my body did the exact opposite.
"What would you like to order, honey?" Mom asked.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him checking how much cash he had. It was a five-dollar bill and a few coins. He ordered a two-taco plate and a small soda.
"Are you coming over to see Adri later?" Mom continued her interrogation as she punched the buttons on the register and gave Ty his change.
"Maybe. He said he’d let me know after his football practice."
"That boy…" Dad shook his head. "No knack for sports. I’ll be happy if he gets into a community college."
"Can I take a break?" I asked as soon as Ty stepped aside to wait for his food.
My parents exchanged glances but agreed. Since I was technically just a minor volunteer, they couldn’t keep me inside the truck all day.
"I’ll grab something to eat," I announced, taking three churros and a chicken enchilada plate that was made by mistake just a minute ago.
I exited the truck through the side door and put the food down on the stool behind the vehicle. Then I darted over to the front, where Ty lingered by the window.
"Meet me in the back," I whispered as I yanked at his sleeve.
"Okay." He nodded.
I returned to my little break spot behind the truck. Two minutes later, Ty showed up with his own plate. He sat down on a stone block, and I handed him a churro.
"Best ones in all of SoCal," I said with a straight face.
"Bold statement." He accepted the churro and took a bite off it.
My heart fluttered in my chest. I worked very hard on that batch today. I added a little vanilla extract just to see if it tasted any different.
"Mmmm." Ty licked the sugar off his lips. "I think you’re right. They are pretty good."
I felt warm and happy on the inside. Then I just sat there, watching him messily devour his food as we talked about random stuff like the size of thecrowd here today, that horrible algebra homework, and a new System of a Down song.
Halfway through the meal, he leaned in a little closer. "You guys need an extra set of hands?"
