Mestiza

Chapter 4- Emilia

I looked up at the girl and as I stood to say hello I found myself looking down to meet her eyes. I give her a smile when she quickly looks away.

"Hola hermanita." I say confidently and give her a nod. She's only a year younger than me but that still makes her my little sister. It's weird looking at her and seeing hardly any resemblance to myself. I think you could say our eyes sort of resemble each other's. 

"I am so happy you two are finally able to meet!" Our mom exclaimed. We both give her little smiles, shifting awkwardly. "We'll be here for a day before we board the plane for Germany...I'd love to take you girls shopping! If you'd like, that is..." Her shyness in the sentence almost makes me feel guilty for even thinking about declining.

Almost.

I mean, I am tired, so I don't blame myself. But she did look really hopeful, like a child on Christmas morning about to open a gift she's hoping is her favorite American girl doll. So I said.

"Ok, I'm cool with that." I force a grin, her eyes light up and she looks to Maria who honestly looks as tired as I feel. She shifts uncomfortably but manages a nod. 

We were dragged out of the lobby as soon as our bags were taken up to the suite and we found ourselves on the streets of New York. Now that we're walking around, I feel nauseous being surrounded by the giant buildings. There are no rivers or mountains around to ease my anxiety about the giant city. And for goodness sake where is the color? The only colorful things I've seen so far are either flashing neon or the Trump Tower. 

And that's only gold.

I have to catch my breath and steady my anxious heart when we finally enter a store, I glance over at Maria who seems to be just as shocked as me. 

"Here we are at Macy's! You can have whatever you want!" Mom tells us. Macy's? Good! I remember going to a Macy's in Germany, it's just a simple grocery store, their doughnuts are pretty good-

"Welcome to Macy's and our all eight floor sale!" An overly excited woman announces over the intercom and my heart drops.

"...What?" I look up at mom. "Eight floors?" She nods nonchalantly and I remember hearing that she's in New York often and must be used to grocery stores being stocked with high fashion clothing lines on one floor and apples and lettuce on another. I find myself inching closer to Maria. She's probably the most sane person here. I mean, her jaw is dropped and her face even a little pale looking around at the store.