Romiette and Julio (7 page)

“Thanks, Ben. I’ll be careful.”

“Check you out at school tomorrow.”

“Later.” Julio hung up the phone, feeling both warmed and chilled.

Welcome to TEEN TALK, the best partying chat room on-line! TEEN TALK is open every day, 24 hours a day!

logon//spanishlover

sweetthing:
whassup, spanishlover?

spanishlover:
sky

cookieman:
folks who are high

becool:
stars

niobe:
nothin’s up ’cause I feel down

oogaooga:
why you down, baby?

spiceboy:
she needs some love

bigmac:
let me make your dreams come true

niobe:
you ain’t my kind of dream. you are a nightmare!

bigmac:
you just wish you could have me.

cookieman:
no, she needs sweet dreams

afroqueen:
anybody ever have bad dreams?

cookieman:
all the time!

becool:
I like nightmares. Turns me on!

spiceboy:
why?

becool:
I’m deep, and I’m weird. I’m going to write them down one day and make a million dollars.

afroqueen:
that’s how the story of Frankenstein happened. this lady was on her honeymoon and wrote Frankenstein in her spare time!

niobe:
either her new husband was a freak

becool:
or he wasn’t giving her what she needed!

sweetthing:
I have dreams sometimes that I’m dying.

bigmac:
now that’s freaky!

vanityfair:
that’s not freaky. everybody has dreams like that sometime.

sweetthing:
I heard if you dream you’re falling, and you reach the ground, then you really do die.

niobe:
nobody has ever proved that

sweetthing:
I guess not

niobe:
I dreamed once this big black shadow came to get me. I was suffocating. then I woke up with my mom’s fur coat on my face.

cookieman:
people who wear fur ought to be shot

vanityfair:
why? the mink is already dead!

bigmac:
I dreamed I got shot once

cookieman:
did you die?

bigmac:
not yet

afroqueen:
I have really scary dreams sometimes

spanishlover:
me too

afroqueen:
I feel like I’m drowning in the ocean

spanishlover:
that must be really scary for someone who can’t swim

afroqueen:
you making fun of me?

spanishlover:
no, I’m trying to sympathize with you

vanityfair:
she don’t want sympathy

niobe:
she needs somebody to read her cards

afroqueen:
I got a friend who does that

becool:
dreaming about drowning—that’s deep

afroqueen:
I hear this voice at the end of it. a voice I never heard before.

vanityfair:
is it a voice from Heaven?

afroqueen:
I don’t think so. it’s a lover’s voice, I think.

vanityfair:
a lover? my dreams are never that cool.

spanishlover:
I dream about being alone and having no one to talk to

cookieman:
I dream about food.

bigmac:
go eat something then.

spanishlover:
I dream about afroqueen.

sweetthing:
oooooooo!

vanityfair:
oooooooo!

niobe:
oooooooo!

afroqueen:
why you dreaming about me?

spanishlover:
I don’t know. I keep thinking about you.

sweetthing:
be careful, afroqueen.

niobe:
beware of perverts and weirdos.

afroqueen:
make it clear, spanishlover

spanishlover:
I’m no pervert. I enjoyed our private chat. that’s all.

vanityfair:
watch out!

niobe:
check him out, afroqueen. we got your back!

bigmac:
yeah, give him ten minutes in a chat room. let him talk.

afroqueen:
spanishlover, you want to go to a chat room?

becool:
be cool, you two

spanishlover:
please

afroqueen:
OK. See you there.

Dear Afroqueen:

Thanks for coming in here to talk to me. It sounds like we really went to a room or something. We’re floating someplace in cyberspace. The only difference is that the rest of them can’t see what we’re writing.

Spanishlover:

I had lots of people warn me about on-line predators. You hear on the news about stupid girls who run away with some old man after he talks to them in the chat rooms. Now I certainly don’t consider myself to be stupid, but I have sense enough to be careful.

Let me see if I can ease your fears. I don’t know enough to be a pervert. I’m sixteen years old, and in the eleventh grade, and I just moved to Ohio from Texas. I checked in a few weeks ago to Thomas Jefferson High School in Cincinnati, and the only kid I know really well is Ben Olsen, who has blue or green or red or purple hair.

Well, shut me up! That’s the school I go to! Did you get in a fight with Ben on the first day of school?

That was me! But don’t think I’m some kind of troublemaker. It had been a really bad morning, and Ben’s nose got introduced to my fist before I met the rest of him. I think he’s a pretty cool dude.

I heard about that, and I know Ben. I think I may have even seen you in the hall. You’re always by yourself.

I told you I have this dream, this fear of being alone.

So why don’t you make friends?

It’s hard being the new kid in the middle of the year. It’s even harder when you’re different.

What do you mean different? You got two heads or something?

No, I mean, there’s lots of Anglo kids at our school. And lots of black kids. But I’m probably the only Hispanic kid in the whole school.

Does that bother you?

A little. Probably more than a little. At my old school, it was about eighty percent Hispanic.

I feel you. I’d hate to have to move to another city and state. I’ve known most of the kids here since elementary school.

Yeah, that’s the way it was at my old school too. My friend Diego and I went to kindergarten together.

That’s rough. But most of the kids at Jefferson are pretty friendly. Give us a chance. You gotta reach out.

Not all of them are friendly. And some have already reached out and almost touched me. You ever heard of The Family?

The Devildogs? They been sweatin’ you?

Yeah, real sweat. They don’t like the fact I’m new or that I’m Hispanic.

What did they do?

Just threatened me in the bathroom, but I know what they can do if they want to. I came here partly because of the gangs at home.

Well, those of us who don’t do gangs will watch your back. Hey, when’s your lunch bell?

I have first lunch.

Me too. I hate that. It’s so early in the morning, I’m never very hungry. You want to meet at lunch tomorrow? Maybe I can introduce you to my friends.

Bet! And I won’t wear anything purple!

Good idea. What do you look like?

I’ll be the tall, good-looking guy with the
bottle of hot sauce in his hand. I’ll meet you at that table in the back near the pop machine.

Hey, I don’t even know your name.

Julio. Julio Montague. And you, my African Queen, what’s your name?

My name is Romiette Cappelle. I’ll be wearing an orange sweater and a big smile. (I’ll probably have on shoes and jeans too—didn’t want you to get the wrong idea!) You’re the new guy—it will be easy to spot you. See you soon.

Peaceout.

So they were all wrong. He wasn’t a psychopath or a pervert. He was just a dude, a really good-looking one—wow—who needed somebody to be a friend. Today I had lunch with Julio. Destiny and I have the same lunch bell, so we usually see each other at lunch. But she was absent today with a cold, so I headed to the lunchroom alone. I just wasn’t prepared for what happened. When I first saw him, I sucked in my breath and forgot to exhale. He looked so much better than any of the boys around here. He has really dreamy eyes, but of course, who notices such things? I’ve never really paid much attention to what boys look like. But Julio was different. He was funny and friendly and so easy to talk to. And so easy to look at!

He was standing there, up on top of the table, dressed in a jeans jacket and a Texas Rangers T-shirt, holding a bottle of hot sauce in one hand and a red rose in the other. He
seemed to know exactly who I was, because he jumped off the table just as I approached and bowed low and handed me the rose. He said he brought the rose because the hot sauce was too great a treasure and he couldn’t give it up. We talked about school (he hates it—at least here), cold weather (he hates it), snow (he hates it), and Texas (he loves it).

We hit it off so good. We talked so much and laughed so hard that we forgot to eat lunch. The bell rang, and we both looked up and realized that we hadn’t taken one bite out of our food, and lunch was already over. We laughed and promised to meet again for lunch tomorrow. I can’t wait to talk to him again. He’s not like any guy I ever met. He’s witty, and wise, and oh my goodness—he’s cute too. I’ve got to get my homework done in a hurry—we’ve got a one-on-one session scheduled on the computer at nine tonight. I can’t believe this—I can’t wait. What is happening to me? I gotta call Destiny!

Just as Romi picked up the phone to call Destiny, it rang. “Hey, Destiny,” Romi greeted her. “I was just getting ready to call you.”

“Well, Romi, you know I’ve been working on developing my psychic abilities. With you, it’s easy. Something happened today. Tell me!”

Romi was never really sure if Destiny was just lucky, or if she really did have some extrasensory abilities. “How did you know?” she asked in amazement.

“When will you learn to appreciate my psychic powers?” Destiny replied. “Spill it, girl.”

“I met the dude from the Internet,” Romi began. “I had lunch with him,” she added, just to agitate Destiny even more.

“You what? Are you crazy? Where? When?”

“At school.” Romi was enjoying this—making Destiny crazy with questions.

“You met a grown man at school? Have you lost your mind?”

“I thought you were psychic,” teased Romi.

“I am, but you’re messing up the interstellar vibes.”

“He’s no grown man. He’s the same age as we are.”

“A sixteen-year-old is a sexual stalker?” Destiny was totally confused.

Romi laughed out loud. “I keep telling you. He’s not a stalker or a pervert. He’s the new kid—the one who transferred here from Texas a few weeks ago.”

“The one who dyed Ben’s nose to match his hair?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. And he didn’t mean to hit Ben.”

“He’s the one you’ve been talking to?”

“Yeah, and all the time he was going to school right here.”

“Talk about psychic,” Destiny said in admiration. “You got the stars with you, girl. This is too freaky. What’s his sign?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

Destiny screamed into the phone, “How many times do I have to tell you. That’s the
first
thing you ask. How are you gonna know if you’re compatible or not?”

“We just talked,” Romi replied, unconcerned. “That seemed compatible enough. He’s fun to talk to. And Destiny, he is so fine!”

“I hear you, girl. And I have not heard this from you before. He’s gotta be an Aries or a Sagittarius—those are the fire signs. Since you are a Leo, you know that’s your best bet unless you want to go with your opposite, which is an Aquarius—something I would not advise! Fire and water do not mix, girlfriend.”

“You’re nuts, Destiny. He could be an Aquarius. I don’t know.”

“How can you have lunch with a dude and not be sure of his sign?”