—What are you doing? Santo pulled away.

—You don’t want me to touch you? she said, unbuckling his pants.

—Yes, but…

—Don’t you want to touch me? she said, feeling inside his pants, his pubic hair dry and hot, her hands catching his balls and squeezing them gently. They were bigger than she’d imagined.

—Here? Now? Santo pulled up his pants and pushed her away.

—Don’t you love me, Santo? Even if you don’t mean it, will you say that you love me?

—But why do you say such things? I love you, Miraluz. I wanted to say it to you in so many different ways but I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t know—

Miraluz shut him up by pushing her tongue inside his mouth, tasting the salt on his lips.

—Not here, not like this, Santo said.

Miraluz ignored him and pushed his fingers inside her, hoping he could fill the longing she was feeling for Don Chan. Santo didn’t understand the fire in between Miraluz’s legs.

—Someone might come, he said, looking through the cracks between the trees. She pressed her body against his and put his hand under her skirt again. She sucked on Santo’s tongue, wondering why Don Chan patronized her in that way. Why didn’t he want her the way she wanted him? She wasn’t a little girl anymore. If only he’d given her the opportunity to please him, to stroke, kiss, and love him. Miraluz grabbed Santo’s cock and pulled on it. He swelled in her hands and stumbled around her. She bit his ear, his lips. She dug his face into her neck, placing his hands on her breasts.

—I love you, Miraluz, Santo said into her ear as he thrust in and out of her wetness. He carried her in his arms, her back against the tree. Her ache didn’t stop. The more he pushed in and out of her, the more emptiness she felt. She pulled him out before he came inside her. —I’m sorry, Santo, this is all wrong. She fixed her skirt, her hair, and then held in laughter, covering her mouth because of how strange she felt. —We can’t do this anymore. She walked away from him.

—But what did I do wrong? Give me another chance, Miraluz.

—Leave me alone, okay?

—Can I at least walk you home? He asked, unclear about what had happened. He wondered if he was officially not a virgin, even though he didn’t have an orgasm. He was mystified by the extraordinary and beautiful Miraluz who didn’t make any sense.

Bronx

1996

Esperanza found Mrs. Hernández hunched over her husband, helping him reach over his spittoon.

—You gotta stop enabling him, Mrs. Hernández. He needs to exercise those arms or else the old man will lose his strength altogether.

—I can’t stand to see him struggle. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like I do and watch him get weaker every day.

—Help him get stronger then.

Esperanza hung her sweater on the hook and pulled out her white blazer from her tote bag. It wasn’t required, but she liked to wear it. It made her feel more professional.