Lights Up

Lights Up on Jackson Heights

Dia's POV

Ugh. Monday morning. If I had my way, I would stay in this bed forever, listening to the sounds of my city waking up. I'm supposed to start school today, junior year. Scholarship to some prep school in Manhattan. I mean, sure, it's a better school than they have in Jackson Heights. The only problem is that I won't know anyone. If only I could just-

"Claudia, tu cafè!"

Ooo, coffee. That's worth getting out of bed for. Mental checklist time. Brush teeth, check. Shower, check. Carla is going to do my hair, so I don't need to fix it. Not that I do anything fancy. I wear it in braids every day. Deodorant, check. Makeup, check. Just enough to where it looks natural and I don't look like a clown. Clothes time. I had picked out my outfit the night before, and I think it's ok. Black ripped jeans, one of my many Harry Potter shirts (my dad says I have a problem), and a black puffer jacket. The jacket used to be Tía Nina's and it's a little small, but it works. To top it all off, my bright red converse. They're my favorite shoes. Not that I have many pairs. Morning mental checklist, complete. Time to face the day.

By the time I get downstairs into the bodega, I can smell the coffee. My dad is singing under his breath while he wipes off the countertop. I come over and hop up onto the counter.

"Hey, I just cleaned that!"

"You know you were just going to keep cleaning it until you get a customer, Papá."

That's when Uncle Benny entered the bodega. Uncle Benny and my dad have been friends for years. He took over Rosario's taxi service when Kevin retired. But now, he's arguing about coffee with my dad. I think they forgot I'm here.

"Hey Papá, is Mamá at the salon already?"

"Yes. And I know you're trying to be all independent, but she packed you a lunch for today. Go ahead and head over there so you're not late."

"Alright, bye Papá, bye Uncle Benny, see you after school."

With that, I grabbed my backpack, lunch bag, and instrument case and ran out the door.

I know these streets like the back of my hand. If you head down the street, deeper into el barrio where I'm headed, there are flags hanging from the fire escapes. Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Chile, Cuba, Mexico, the list goes on and on. You'll spot the occasional pride flag, including the very large one hanging from the window of my Tío Sonny's apartment. He teaches life skills to help barrio kids get into colleges and get good jobs, like how to tie a tie, or write a resume, or act at an interview. His husband, my Uncle Pete, is a graphic designer for a software company. The outside of their building is one big mural. Past the apartment buildings is a small grocery store, a church, and then the salon. If you go up the street from the bodega, there's the taxi service and the dispatch window. Then there's a park, and the subway station. That subway station is the gateway to the rest of the city. After a short walk, I'm outside the salon, and immediately bombarded by Carla.

"Dia, finally, get your cute little rear in this chair. Do you want to be late?"

"No, Carla, not particularly. Just let me put my stuff down."

I drop my bags and sit in the salon chair next to my mother, who's flipping through a fashion magazine. As Carla starts braiding, Dani starts talking.

"So, chica, are there going to be any cute boys at this fancy school of yours?"

"Or girls."

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN CARLA."

That makes me start laughing. Of course that's what Dani wants to know about my new school.

"How am I supposed to know Dani? I've never been to this school."

"Ay, well, if you do find you a cute one and he hurts you, bring him to me, me entiendes?"

I'm pretty sure that if I was ever hurt by a boy, Dani would rip him to shreds with her nails. Her nails are infamously long and sharp, and currently bright purple. The mental image of Dani in her leopard print heels, standing threateningly over an unknown boy while ranting in rapid Spanish is pure gold.

"Gotcha, Dani."

That's when my mother decided to enter the conversation, perfect timing as always.

"I'm pretty sure that if Dia ever brought home a boy, Usnavi would try to intimidate him, and fail miserably. He once tried telling some boys that were hitting on me that he bench pressed cans of Goya beans as a threat."

This sent all of us into fits of laughter. By the time we were done laughing, Carla had finished my braids, and if I didn't get onto the train soon I would be late. As I stood up to leave, my mom reached over and squeezed my hands comfortingly.

"Dia, you'll be fine. You'll make friends, and everything will work out."

With that final statement, I said goodbye to the three and headed out the door. Walking up the street, past the church, the apartments. The bodega, the dispatch window, the park. Down the stairs into the subway. I got on the train, instrument and backpack under my feet, lunch in my lap. Pulling out my frayed earbuds, fixed many times with electrical tape from Uncle Benny, and turned on my music. The opening chords of the Miranda soundtrack filled my ears. New school, new people. Good music, lucky shoes. Junior Year. Wish me luck.

Hello hello hello beautiful people. First chapter. Boom. I'm actually really excited about this story and where it's going. Next chapter we meet someone we all know and love. I'll give you one hint- they're a human ray of sunshine. Comment your guesses, and I'll give you a shoutout if you get it right. Keep on smiling and surviving, and may the odds be ever in your favor (sorry).
Peace out ✌️
Author

950 words