—What you doing here? she asked.

—Getting some fries.

—Did you ask for the manager? Joanne looked hopeful.

—Nah, man, I was just…you know, forget it, I have to run. I got peeps waiting for me. But I see you around, a’ight?

Dallas was nervous about seeing Hush again after their kiss. Would they kiss again? Did she want to? Was it normal? These thoughts preoccupied her so much, she had to double-check that she didn’t forget to do anything before leaving the apartment. She forewent the lipstick and instead applied some cocoa-butter balm so her lips softened. She hurried over to the luncheonette. Her mother had been acting weird and protective since Dallas had gotten her period. She even gave her a hard time about using the telephone. She hadn’t been able to call Hush since the kiss. At the luncheonette, Dallas slipped downstairs as if going to the bathroom and then opened the door to the storage/recreation room. During the day, it belonged to Hush and all her friends; at night it was where the men played poker and hid from their wives.

The lights were on, but no one was around in the basement. Dallas was about to go home when she heard a noise in the back. She should leave. If someone caught her and wanted to tell her mother about the afternoons she spent in the basement, they could ruin her life. But she sneaked over by the stacks of flour. It was Mario, the skinny, knock-kneed, eighteen-year-old high school dropout who worked with his uncle making deliveries to the luncheonette. He was pushing up on a girl.

—Please, Mario whispered. I promise, just once. Hush giggled from Mario’s affections.

—Hush?

Dallas touched her lips with her fingertips, as if she could erase something. She wanted Hush to see her. The sounds went from the slurp and slime of gutting a chicken, to the plunging of a toilet bowl, wet, with a pull and push. Get out of here, Dallas told herself. It was too embarrassing to be caught watching. But she couldn’t help staring. Her body filled with rage.

—Dallas? Hush said.

—Oh shit, Mario said, pulling away.

—Oh don’t worry. It’s just my friend, Hush said, tucked in her shirt, and giggled some more. Reaching her hand out to Dallas to kiss her hello on the cheek.

—Uh, I…Dallas became dizzy, losing her orientation.

—I uh…see you around, Dallas said, grateful for the exit sign.

—But wait, Hush said.

—Later, okay? Dallas felt as if she was looking through a broken piece of glass; everything before her moved away and expanded.

—Hola, Mrs. Colón, is Dallas home?

Dallas waved frantically at her mother.

—I’m sorry, Hush, she told me to tell you she’s not home. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.

Hush yelled into Dallas’s window and waited around the building hoping she would catch her exiting or entering.

—Y por qué you don’t talk to Hush no more? Esperanza asked Dallas. —She’s better to have as a friend than the fulanita upstairs who I see hanging out in the streets at night like un cuero.