Model Ricans

Marga and Vieques

As I am driving home from Blanke's house, I decide in that moment that I absolutely cannot date Blanke Rayder III. His Christian family was so...I don't even know how to describe it. Expectant?

I find myself hitting the gas as if I need to get the heck out of this part of Winter Glen, but soon there is a back-up of cars all turning into one massive house. There are schools of high school kids passing by my non-moving car, swaggering like they've been drinking. Some are smoking cigarettes. And then I spot Brandi C and Bobby. I realize this must be Sky Bowman's back-to-school party. On a Sunday night?

And then I realize it's Labor Day weekend. I could have stayed at Pop's longer. I find myself searching for Desiree. But she isn't here. Why would she be? She has new friends. And they're all swimmers.

I think of what I told her: "We're not getting married. Just because you saw a blank on the wedding marquee or invitation or whatever doesn't mean what you saw is going to happen."

I think of what she told me over the phone: "OK, if there is anything I've learned, you can change your destiny, you can make different choices. Forget about that guy and join the swim team."

Aargh!!! I wish I never followed her to the bathroom in middle school. I wish I never saw her in Mrs. Lanny's classroom! I shut my eyes and bang the steering wheel three times. When I open my eyes, Mrs. Lanny is writing the number 1988 on the chalkboard. "It's a New Year!" she says.

Oh no.

My head swivels around in search of my car. But I am not a high school kid anymore. I'm in middle school again. How am I time traveling? I thought that was just Desiree's bruja power, not mine. And sure enough, there she is. Desiree is sitting a few desks in front of me, dropping her forehead to her desk.

Mrs. Lanny moves slowly between our desks and pauses dramatically. "Every New Year is an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. Who are you? Who were you last year? Who do you want to be this year?"

While the rest of the kids are already busy writing essays about who they think they are, Desiree is doing her thing again, spacing out, looking out the window. At one point she looks over at me, so I quickly start scribbling on my paper so she doesn't see me staring at her.

Not sure how to start, but Tia says I should always start at the beginning. Hmm. OK. Maybe I can rewrite things now that I'm back at this part of my life.

I just moved to Orlando from Vieques. That's a tiny island off the coast of Puerto Rico, where my abuela is from. My mom's mom. Me, my dad and my mom lived with abuela in a concrete house overlooking the ocean. It was paradise, except for when the hurricanes came, or when another classmate got diagnosed with cancer.

My Tia, who was also my fourth grade teacher, said kids were getting cancer because of the U.S. Navy bombs. She got my class to paint a mural to protest the U.S. Navy occupation there. It was ironic, because my dad was in the Navy. He knew he was technically one of the bad guys, and my grandmother and Tia never let him forget it, but he was proud of me for being aware of politics at such a young age. So I guess last year I used to be an activist.

Who do I wanna be this year? Who do I want to be in the future?

I look around the classroom, and immediately my eyes fix on Desiree. I don't know why. If I want to change things, maybe I should focus on someone else. Brandi C looks as dumb now as she does in the future, so no, not her. Sky Bowman, ugh, coughing and leaving the classroom as usual. What the heck does Desiree see in this guy? When my eyes land on Desiree, I realize she is still the only person who interests me in this shitty place. I don't want to admit that so I keep writing about my family.

My mom is Valeria. While she was traveling, she met my dad in Nicaragua. On the east side of the country where the people speak English. And then I was born in Guam. My dad is Black. That's why the kids at my school in Vieques called me negrita, prieta, morena. When mom and dad split up, we moved to Florida. Tia came with me and mom. Dad moved to the beach so I only see him on weekends. Even though he is depressed, he and I are a lot closer than I am to my mom. My mom is complicated. Selfish. Impulsive. Emotional. Nuts. I guess I would say I don't wanna be like her this year. I wanna be...like...my cousin.

So I write about my cousin.

Before we moved to Orlando, we stopped at my cousin's house near El Yunque, the rainforest. We all went swimming for the first time in a river. The water was so cold, my legs went numb. It was a weird feeling, trying to move through the icy water without being able to kick my legs, but luckily, I could still feel my arms, and pulled myself to the banks of the river where Valeria and Tia had a blanket set up with a picnic of maduros and fried yucca to munch on. As my legs thawed out, I watched my cousin dive into the river from a cliff way up above. When he didn't come up, we all went ballistic. Apparently he hit a rock and became completely paralyzed. He was about to go to college on the mainland but now he couldn't move. As I thought about my own legs freezing in the ice cold water and his legs literally unable to move him to the next destination, I swore I would go to college, make something of myself, fix my cousin's spine, and cure all the cancers plaguing the kids in Vieques.

And that's when Desiree rushes out of the classroom and I can't help but follow her to the bathroom again until I'm sitting at the wheel of my car again. Destiny is destiny, but I am behind the wheel. I can drive wherever I want to drive. The sound of honking blasts me out of my flashback. "Get outta the way, girl!"

At this moment there's nothing I am more certain about: I gotta get outta my own way, and Desiree's way, if I'm ever gonna get to Harvard.