Secret Saturdays ought to be required reading at middle schools everywhere. Maldonado gives us both voice and heart. His young characters navigate a challenging world with endearing earnestness, lively style, and a heartening desire for true friendship and dignity.
E.R. FrankTags: urban-fiction
Grace,' my mother tries, just before my frozen hot chocolate comes. I don't answer her.
Later, while she's waiting for her credit card back from the waitress, she says, 'I'm sorry.
I shrug, and then we sit awhile without saying anything. Then he goes, 'Where'd you learn to fight like that, anyway?'
I start to shrug again, and then I stop. 'I guess from my dad,' I say, which, really, is the truth.
I'm so disgusting,' I try to argue, but his hands and his voice and his marble mother's eyes won't let it be true anymore.
'No,' he says. 'You're beautiful.
If I could be small again, Monique told me at the playground's fence, slurring her words and watching Caitlin sob, I'd want to have a friend like her.
E.R. FrankHe apologized when I was twelve. He was crying. I don't like to remember that. I like to remember the time he spelled and defined 'metamorphosis' when my mama was clean. He used her as an example, and he was chewing on the Popsicle stick left over from our lunch that day. When he smiled, his teeth were mad purple.
E.R. FrankNah,' I tell her after a while. 'He is more like a brother, you know?'
The good kind. The kind with the purple teeth.
China puts her hand on my palm. Her fingernails are baby blue with miniature clouds airbrushed at the tips. She saved three weeks of allowance for that sky.
E.R. FrankI start laughing. You have to laugh. Life is just funny sometimes. As long as you remember.
E.R. FrankPage 1 of 1.
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