The Spanish Club

Chapter 2

The next morning, Brianna and Dana didn’t make it downstairs until after eight-thirty. As soon as they stepped into the hotel lobby, Miss Yancy, the younger teacher on the trip, gave them bananas and pushed them on the small tour bus where everyone else waited. Brianna glimpsed Enrique smirking at her from beneath his Chicago Bears cap as she stumbled down the aisle, and embarrassment churned her empty stomach. Her hands sneaked up to her hair which, to her dismay, she found already working its way out of her carefully slicked-back braid into the crown of frizz it preferred.

“Now that we have all decided to get out of bed,” the other teacher, Mrs. Fritz, announced, looking pointedly at Brianna and Dana, “we can finally head out.”

“Like the whole country’s gonna shut down if we’re a little late,” Dana mumbled to Brianna as they sat down.

The bus lurched away from the curb, and Brianna slumped against the window. There was nothing like fresh humiliation to start the day. She fought the urge to peek at her classmates; did she really need to see Enrique still laughing at her? Then again, Dana was probably right. She’d need to be at least a blip on his radar to garner his attention for that long.

Just eat the stupid banana, Brianna thought as she peeled away the bruised skin and wondered how to avoid the huge sections that didn’t look an edible yellow.

“Mine’s not as bad as yours,” Dana said. “Want a piece?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just close my eyes when I eat.”

As if cued to make things worse, blond hair spilled over the front of their seat as Stacia peered down at them. “Too bad you guys were late. Breakfast was unbelievable.”

She proceeded to describe each and every dish in tortuous detail. Even as Brianna felt Dana’s patience eroding and her own stomach growling, she found Stacia’s bubbliness contagious. On the flight to Mexico City, Stacia had carried the conversation between them by rambling about everything and everyone, jumping from one unrelated subject to another with barely a breath to rest in between. Brianna learned not only that Stacia’s boyfriend chose watching a soccer match over spending one last pre-Mexico night with her, but that he always cried—secretly—while watching Pixar’s Up. The dance team captain had also heaped a load of praise on Brianna’s dance skills, making Brianna like her even more.

“Here’s your mp3 player,” Stacia continued, handing the device to Brianna. “I loved The Pharcyde, they’re like Digital Underground with a strip of acid in their latte. I think my favorite song’s a tie between ‘On the Down Low’ and ‘Ya Mama’.”

Dana gave Brianna an instant rundown of her thoughts with one raised eyebrow. You let the leader of the munchkins borrow the mp3 player I gave you for your birthday? And now she thinks she knows classic hip-hop? Uh-huh. Don’t even get me started on the acid thing.

As Brianna quickly slid the mp3 player into her jacket pocket, she hoped her smile didn’t look too eager. “Really? I’m surprised—I mean, I’m glad you liked it.”

“Do you wanna see my music?” Stacia asked.