Read Online Every Time a Rainbow Dies by Rita Williams-Garcia - Free Book Online Page A

would be no one when he got home. It simply wasn’t enough to hold his conquest inside. He was overwhelmed with a need to be with someone and talk.
    Eventually he would tell Truman and Shakira about his job but not just yet. They had a way of sucking the joy out of a thing with their insights and too many questions. Instead he would walk in one payday and put all his money on the kitchen table, pour his cereal, feed his birds, and not be reminded of where the cornflakes came from.
    He didn’t have to think hard about the money he’d earn or if taxes would be extracted. He expected aminimum wage and to be paid under the table. It was hardly the kind of money that would make him independent. However, the part-time work would provide him with a few dollars he wouldn’t have to ask for.
    His stomach growled from emptiness. He had left the fruit stand without buying so much as a banana. The last thing he wanted was to eat at home, out in the open, where Shakira could question him about his progress on his job search. He’d rather grab a bite out in the street, then go up to his room and close his door. He stepped out to the curb and looked down the block to see what was still open. It was either the pizza shop or the Chinese takeout place. He felt in his pocket for a ten-dollar bill, his lunch money for the next three days.
    As he walked toward the pizza shop, he saw a girl wearing a gold-yellow jacket the color of a bodega awning, coming in his direction. She carried a wide, flat black case, the type used to hold posters or artwork. It was the way she walked, the head just so, the hips a nice sway, and that bright yellow jacket. He was already smiling.
    â€œYsa.”
    She sort of acknowledged him.
    â€œHey, so…” Where were his words? He couldn’t find them. Her eyes almost glared at him. “Where you coming from?”
    She shot daggers at him. “None of your business.”
    He gave her a wounded look, one so pathetic she almost smiled. This look had in the past been effective on his mother when she initially said no.
    â€œAll right,” she relented. “If you must know, I’m coming from Paterson Silks. I cut fabric.”
    The excitement of just getting a job and having her there made him say, “I’m coming from work too. At Yong Moon’s.” He pointed in the direction of the store.
    â€œOh?” she said, doubtful. “You? For Yong Moon? You’re not family.” She was right to doubt him. Even the lowliest positions at family-owned businesses stayed within the family.
    â€œI work there,” he insisted.
    â€œHmp. I don’t ever see you there.”
    He smiled sheepishly, both pleased to know she was a regular customer at Yong Moon’s and embarrassed to have been caught in a half-truth.
    â€œI just started.”
    He was thinking, If I could keep her here talking, when his stomach growled. She turned up her nose to show that she was disgusted, but he would not be deflated. He tilted his head to the pizza shop, raised his eyebrows, and asked, “Slice?”
    â€œNo, no,” she said. “I have supper waiting.”
    He gave her those eyes again, with more of a plea, for he remembered that he was cute, a workingman, and was feeling quite invincible standing before a girl he had once rescued.
    She said okay.
    Thulani paid for their pizza and fruit punch with his lunch money and carried their tray to the table where she sat, her huge black case leaning against her side. He watched her pat down the greasy pizza slice with one napkin, bite the tip only, chew, and wipe her mouth with another napkin. He was content to have her with him eating pizza she didn’t want. One day he would take her hands, kiss her lips, and put his tongue in her mouth. As he watched her do everything just so, entranced by her slender fingers, her manicured nails, he knew she would be his first everything. For now, seeing her this close and noting