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 m e 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 sl
