The Spanish Club by Danielle Burnette

Author:Danielle Burnette [Burnette, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Danielle Burnette
Published: 2015-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When Brianna entered the hotel lobby, Mrs. Fritz was tapping her foot and her watch.

"We said twenty minutes, not thirty," Mrs. Fritz clipped. "Where's Miss Tate?"

"She got sick last night and she's still not feeling well, so I'm not sure if she's coming down," Brianna replied, surprised at how easily the story rolled off her tongue. Her heart thumped with excitement. In a weird way, she felt proud. "She said to give her five more minutes, and if she wasn't down, then she would just stay upstairs and sleep it off."

"Sleep what off?" the stout teacher shot back.

Brianna's skin rippled with goose bumps. She, of all people, knew the importance of being careful with words. "I don't know…whatever made her sick."

Mrs. Fritz's eyes bored into Brianna, as if searching for a loose end to hang her with. Rather than ramble on into another misstep, Brianna merely shrugged. If she wasn't believed, there was nothing she could do.

"I'll go up and check on her," Miss Yancy said. "If she really doesn't feel well, I'll bring back something for both of us from the restaurant." She laid a hand on Mrs. Fritz's shoulder. "And I can stay here with her today—I don't mind. Maybe she'll feel better in time to go to the play tonight."

"I suppose that's up to you," Mrs. Fritz replied, her eyes still fixed on Brianna. "Let's move on, then."

They headed across the street to La Rana Saltarina, a cozy aqua row house with white edging and a human-sized frog in a sombrero painted on the wall by the open door. Flanked by Enrique and Stacia, Brianna offered no answers to their questioning faces as she deliberately sat at the opposite end of the table from Mrs. Fritz and Miguel. She ordered a simple taco con pollo asado and watched the door. Enrique took her hand and rubbed her thumb with his own. Winston made his usual lame attempts to garner attention, but Brianna couldn't remember the stunts long enough to give them the irritation they probably deserved. Her gaze remained riveted to the entrance and whoever might walk through it next. By the time the waiter served the table with drinks and miniature taquito appetizers, only an old couple and a professorial-type in a rumpled jacket had joined the lunch crowd.

Stacia slid a napkin in front of Brianna's plate that read, "What happened?" and Brianna returned it with a shake of her head. Until Miss Yancy walked through the restaurant door—either accompanied or alone—the whole story couldn't be told.

Just as the waiter began distributing entrees around the table, Miss Yancy entered the restaurant. She approached the group with a small smile, and knelt between her fellow guardians. "If you don't mind," she said, "please bring two bowls of today's soup, a beef burrito, two slices of toast, and two Cherry Cokes back to the hotel. If you leave it at the front desk and have them call room number 5995, I'll come down and pick it up."

"Todo está bien?" Miguel asked.

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