Angel
We have come to an arrangement, Gabriela and I. Each afternoon after school, I come in and order two chicken tacos with cilantro and onions, and water to drink. And each time I do, I get a horchata instead of water. There’s never any charge.
When I finish eating, I stick around and help her through the evening rush, bussing tables, refilling drinks. I’m getting pretty good at it, and several of the regulars know me by name. Except, they call my Angel instead of Angela, and always smile when they thank me. I have to admit, I kind of like it.
Tonight, when I walk in, it’s much busier than a usual Friday afternoon. It’s like everyone decided to eat early, and bring a friend. Nearly every table is full and there is a line three deep at the counter. I glance over at Gabriela as she sli
