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It was finally the last day of school and Valentina was excited for summer to begin. Valentina was strutting into her school, humming a tune that had been stuck in her head all day. She wasn't much of a singer, she preferred to dance and occasionally spit out some rhymes but that was it. Her mother had always told her she was a wonderful singer, but Valentina hated her raspy voice. It made her feel masculine, it sounded like a typical blues singer and she despised it.
A soft hand was placed on her shoulder, removing her from her thoughts. She locked her eyes with one the new students from yesterday: Joelle Tealer. Joelle seemed to be soft spoken, and seemed to constantly cower under her brother's, Michael's, light.
"You're Valentina, right?" Joelle asked with a kind smile.
Val nodded and stuck out her hand. "Most Bronx people like to call me Val." She shook Joelle's hand.
Joelle's lips turned upward into a crooked smile. "I heard your wordplay yesterday, and I've been looking for a females that can be apart of my group, especially an MC like you." Joelle mentioned.
"You got a girl group going on or somethin'?" Val raised a curious brow.
Joelle smirked. "Nah, nothing like that."
Val scrunched up her face. "What is this group then?"
Joelle scratched the kitchen of her head. "How about I show you? You live up Papaya Street, right?"
Val nodded. "I'll stop by one day and take you to a place, when a party springs up, that has that type of group playing. You dig?" Joelle asked.
Val smiled at Joelle. "Dig."
Joelle spun on her heel to begin to head to class, but stopped herself. She turned slowly back around. "You should know, what I'm offering for you to do ain't exactly... recognized as something, as you say, muchachas do. We ain't gon' see a lot of feminine faces doin' what I'm trying to do. Just forewarning you." Joelle placed a hefty hand on her hip.
Valentina waved her off. "I live for the revolución para las mujeres." She noted. Joelle beamed, glad to know there was a fellow feminist in the building.
"See you... whenever." Joelle waved.
"See you whenever, chica." Valentina waved in return.
Joelle stopped walking abruptly far away from down the hall. "I thought it was muchacha?" She called.
Valentina scoffed. "Los Cubanos say chicas. Learn your slang, dude." Valentina mocked an English slang word so that Joelle could relate to the use of slang.
Joelle rolled her eyes, chuckled and continued down the hall all the way to her physics class— leaving Valentina to wander the halls for the next twenty minutes before going to statistics.
