father to live with my mother. I missed him but I’d missed her just as much. This was my chance to be with her and it also was an opportunity to learn to speak English better. The problem was that all I wanted now was to get out of here.

A group of students I’d seen in algebra came by my table, food trays in hand. “Please, God,” I thought in Spanish, “don’t let them sit by me.”

They sat three tables ahead.

I knew English. My mother is American and she always spoke to me in English. She knew Spanish, but even when she was married to my father and we lived together in Puerto Rico, she’d spoken to me in English. Although I knew English, I always answered in Spanish.

Jerry came in and whispered something to a blonde girl the algebra teacher had called Kathy. I thought that she was probably his girlfriend. They seemed like the perfect couple to me and they even looked alike.

Kathy must have noticed my staring because she waved and said, “Come, sit with us.”

I looked out the window, pretending I hadn’t heard her.

Even my friends in Puerto Rico had laughed at my accent and teased me when I spoke English.

There was no way I was going to join Jerry and Kathy and all those other algebra students because they would laugh at my accent, too.

The guy behind me was wearing earphones, his music was so loud that I could hear it. I recognized that rhythm. Salsa!

Two girls joined him. “Sergio!” one said, “Baja esa música.”

He obeyed and after turning the music down, he turned it off and took off his earphones.

“¿Hablan español?” This was a stupid question because I’d heard them speaking in Spanish.

“Sí. ¿Y tú?” the other girl asked.

I nodded.

“Pues, siéntate con nosotros,” said the girl, her eyes so dark I couldn’t even see her pupils.

I sat with them.

Norma was from Cuba, Sergio from the Dominican Republic; Minerva with those beautiful dark eyes was from Mexico. They were not new to the school, but they hung out together. I felt like I had friends! I began to think that I was going to like it here.