Elisa 1 My body is still getting used to hers. And even though I don't want to, I flinch as my mami runs her fingers through my black hair. I don't really know what she thinks of me yet, but she does say my hair is as smooth as rose petals. I wish she would tell me that I'm beautiful, or that she missed me a lot, or that I'm really smart. I know Ms. Lee and Ms. Luz think I'm smart, but they also think I'm annoying. They narrow their eyes when I can't stop fidgeting, when I make drawings of them, when I laugh out loud while they talk and talk. On the subway, I look at the other girls. From a distance they don't seem too different from me. Maybe they're also smart and annoying. Maybe their hair is also soft. Maybe their mamis also don't tell them that they are beautiful. But do they feel what I'm feeling? That all of this seems impossible? I try to imagine their thoughts. Are they remembering something? What are they remembering? Do their memories feel like mine, like foggy stories, like dreams? 2 Everything is new: new city, new house, new school. It's almost like my mami is new too because we haven't seen each other in a very long time. She left when I was four, so that makes it seven whole years. Now we spend so much time together. Every morning we take a really long subway ride to my new school on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, NYC. My mami says it's worth it because it's a nice school in a nice neighborhood (I guess that means our neighborhood is not nice). My mami says it's also lucky I got here in September so I could start with the other kids who have been here all along. Everything feels fast and gigantic, ready to pop and burst into sparks. My mami says she used to feel like that too but not anymore. We are in front of the school. I look at the other kids and they aren't holding their moms' hands the way I am. A lot of them come alone, they just walk in like it's nothing. My mami kisses me on the forehead and whispers, "Be good, hermosa." I go into the enormous brown building with lots of windows like eyes and stairs like teeth. I give everyone pretty smiles because that's what my mami would like. She wants everyone to think I'm cute. She says they will treat me better if they think that. Before class starts, I practice names. There's Lola, Francesca, Julio, Aisha, Tobias, Lobo (which is a weird thing to name your kid, if you ask me--no one would name their kid "Wolf" in El Salvador), Alice, and Lucia. Soon I find out that Lola is the popular girl. She wears beautiful dresses and skirts that fit her perfectly. She likes light pink and white. They match her long blond hair. Everyone thinks she looks like an angel and wishes she acted like one because she says the meanest things 3 that stick in your brain for a long time. Alice is the opposite of Lola. She likes black and dark pink. She cuts her hair like a boy. She doesn't sit up straight. She bends over her drawings that come one after the other. Lots of people think her drawings are gross and weird but I think they're funny. Yesterday she drew Mr. Mack with a rat face. Lucia is the only other kid who knows how to actually speak Spanish. She also has long black hair and light brown skin like me. But she's not from El Salvador. She's from Mexico but maybe she's just a little bit from Mexico because she said she was born in NYC. Lucia is shy but seems to like me. Maybe she wants to be my friend. I don't know if that's a good idea because Lucia's actually a nice girl and I'm just pretending. 3 After school, my mami takes me downtown to Leah's office. Right before we go in, she puts my hair in the highest ponytail and tells me to stand up straight. She tells me to be on my best behavior because we both need Leah, need her more than anyone, because I am an illegal person. Leah has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Sometimes when she's talking, I stop listening and I think of an ocean the color of her eyes and I think of myself swimming in it and then I think of diving in deep. Really deep. Under a rock I find something secret: the gold crown of a dead queen. I want to carry it up to the surface and put it on my mami's head. "Elisa," she asks, "where were you born?" I was born in El Salvador whose colors are white and blue. And now I'm here in America whose colors are red, white, and blue. Americans like these three colors. They flap outside of houses and buildings, people put them on their cars and inside of stores and schools. It's like they are worried they will forget where they are if they don't see the colors. In El Salvador, we knew where we were. We couldn't forget. Leah tells me my memories are "essential." She is going to use them to build up her case, my case, of why I should stay in the United States. My mami tells me to tell Leah everything. She says the more I tell her the better chance we have of staying together. She says, don't lie, Elisa. If I lie, they might send me away, back to San Marcos, with my abuela. "Elisa," Leah says. "Tell me about El Salvador. What was it like living with your grandma?" My mami sits next me. I look at her for answers but her eyes tell me she doesn't know. We spent a long time apart. I just got here. My mami has been living in America without me. First in Texas, then in North Carolina, and now, in New York. She says we are getting to know each other all over again. Leah looks into my eyes. She has a sweet smile. I can tell my silence makes her a little worried. I'm trying to find an answer for her but when I look into her blue eyes, I leave my body to swim away into a clear ocean. Maybe if I go there, I won't feel like the words coming out of me are actually mine. Excerpted from City Girls by Loretta Lopez All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. 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