Rio is a boy, just ask and she'll tell you it's true

"Try them on," Gwen urged when the salesman returned with two boxes.

"We do have those shoes in 4-1/2 and 5, in blue, miss," he said, smiling. He gestured that I should sit down, and I landed with a thump in one of the chrome and leather chairs while he pulled over one of the shoe-shop style stools. "I'm Tomas, and you're Brooke?" he added.

I shrugged. "My name is Rio," I said. It felt like a losing battle.

He looked up at me from opening boxes and grinned. "Oh, I get it. Rio is a river, and a Brooke is a small river. Cute."

I could hear Gwen telling the other girls that I'd found a pair of shoes I liked. I felt a bit numb, weirdly. I couldn't afford these shoes, why was I trying them on?

Tomas pulled off my ratty old sneaks. "These are a bit big," he noted, "what size are they?"

"Three, boys' sizes," I said.

"Mm. That's a 4-1/2 Women's, and this style doesn't come any smaller." He put the lid back on the box of 5s and glanced around the store. "In fact, hardly anything here comes any smaller. We can order some, maybe."

He wiped my right foot off with a rag and slipped a pair of sheer nylon socks on it. "Maybe you'll grow into a larger size," he suggested while he laced the shoes. The laces had come in a plastic bag instead of already being laced into the shoes. They were blue, too, and if they had never been used, no one else had ever tried these shoes on.

"I'm nineteen," I said. Well, I would be in two months.

"Really?" He chuckled. "Not gonna happen, huh?"

I shrugged.

Tomas slipped my right foot into the shoe, "How does that feel?" He tied the leather laces firmly. I smelled new leather and whatever product Tomas wore on his wavy, very black hair.

The girls had gathered around to watch. "Those are cute," said Naomi. "I mean, really cute."

Jenny had her phone out and took a picture of my foot in the bright blue shoe. "Blue suede shoes," she murmured.

"Don't you step on my—" Monica growled and Gwen giggled.

I wiggled my toes and put my foot down on the floor. I felt the hidden high heel wedge. I could feel my own grin, too. "Can I try walking in the pair?" I asked. But inside, I was beating myself up for wanting them. Not only were they girl's shoes, I couldn't afford any shoes, not even a pair of Walmart $2 thongs.

I pushed my glasses back up on my nose while Tomas took off my other sneaker, the one patched with duct tape, wiped my foot, put on the nylon sock and slipped my foot into the shoe. It tickled when he touched me, and my foot wiggled in reaction, making him laugh.

"This foot is more ticklish than the other one," he remarked, smiling up at me as he tied the laces in a wide bow.

I smiled back and saw his brown eyes get bigger.

"Oh, sh—, she's done it again," I heard Naomi say behind me.

"She's going for the free shoes," Monica put in, and I felt myself turning red.

Tomas laughed, looking around, "All the ladies think they can get free shoes by flirting with me. And it would work if I didn't need this job." He glanced back at me and winked. "Take a walk in them. See what you think."

I stood up, but when I put my weight on my heels, I almost pitched forward. "Oof?" I said. Tomas had caught me with his hands on my wrists. I looked up into those brown eyes again and forgot all about the shoes for a moment.

The collective, "Aww!" from the girls did not help.

"Careful," he said. "Remember the built-in heels."

I nodded. He led me out from the seating area into an open spot where I could walk around.

I looked down at Gwen and giggled. Normally, she's most of an inch taller than me, and often wears heels herself. Today, she was in flats. "Hey, shorty," I said.

"We've created a monster," said Monica.

Gwen laughed. "You okay up there?" she joked.

"Uh, huh," I said. "This is cool." It really wasn't hard to walk in the heels, they were wide and stable, not like stilettos or something.

But I still couldn't afford them.

Something in my expression must have clued Jenny into what I was thinking. "You're worried about how you can afford them?" she asked.

I nodded, and my misery must have been clear on my face.

"Those are seriously cute shoes," Naomi commented. "And they really suit you, Rio."

"Brooke," Monica corrected her.

"Brooke," she agreed with a giggle.

I didn't even glare at them. Naomi was not usually a giggler, but even that incongruity did not get a reaction from me. I felt numb. Why did I want those shoes so much? Just for the height they gave me?

"How much are the shoes?" Jenny asked.

Martin, the other salesman, punched some buttons on his tablet, "With tax, it's forty dollars, or near enough."

Tomas nodded. "They're one-third off right now. A real bargain."

I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I didn't. "I can't afford them," I said, heading back to the chairs to take them off, telling myself I was not going to cry about a pair of shoes.

Jenny opened her purse. "I'm in for ten," she said. "Just, Brooke, you've got to quit telling people you're a boy." Everyone laughed or giggled except me. Even the two salesmen laughed, but they probably thought I was really a girl, and it was just a running gag among a bunch of friends.

Gwen spoke up. "I'll put in ten, too." She paused. "If you keep answering to Brooke when you're wearing the shoes." I must have made a face because everyone laughed again.

"I've got ten I was just gonna spend on food I don't need," said Naomi. "But Brooksie, can you give me some lessons in flirting?" More laughter.

Monica frowned. "I could put in ten, I guess." Her features looked darker than usual. "But—I gave up my job for you and that rat Robbie Fuentes is dating Nina Pascal now." She had quit at SvensKafé so she could date on Friday nights, and now she didn't have a boyfriend.

"I—" I thought of the business card from Mr. Rustami. "I might have the offer of another job," I said.

She nodded. "Whatever, I'm in." She pulled out her billfold.

"Wait a minute," I protested. "I didn't ask anyone to buy me anything?"

"We know," said Gwen. "But we want to do this. You didn't see your face when you tried on those shoes." She held up her ten and took one from Jenny.

Naomi passed over another. "But I am serious about the flirting lessons. Maybe you can't teach me how, cause it's like magic, but you must have a clue."

Jenny put in her money and a comment, "I'm serious about the not-claiming-to-be-a-boy thing, too. It's ridiculous, and no one believes you anyway." Even I giggled, the way she said that.

Monica scowled and handed over her ten. "Get that other job if you can," she said.

Gwen handed me the cash. "We good, Brooke?" she asked.

I took the money, sniffling a bit. "You guys," I complained. But the shoes were going to be mine.

"No need to change back," Tomas assured me. "You can just wear the ones you have on. In fact, do you want me to toss these?" He held up the box now containing my ratty old sneakers.

"Uh," I said.

"Toss 'em," said Monica. "Be serious, Brooke, where would you wear those if you had these blue suede shoes in your closet?"

My head moved, so I must have nodded. The old shoes made a noise as they landed in the trash bin, a final sounding ka-chud.

Tomas smiled at me as I handed him the money at the register. "Are you sure you're nineteen?" he asked.

Confused, I nodded again. "I will be in January," I said.

"Good," he said. "I would have guessed no more than fifteen." He grinned, handing me three pennies with the receipt.

I blinked because he had managed to drag a finger down the back of my hand while doing that. Shivers went up and down my arms and my back. I stared at what I had in my hand. The receipt had a scribbled 'Tomas' and a phone number on it. I looked back up at his face. He smiled, and I felt myself smiling too.

I couldn't stop smiling.

Naomi was talking. "Did you see that? She dresses like a boy, and the guys are still stepping on their tongues. Did you give him your number, girl?" she asked.

"I don't have a phone," I said.

"I gotta learn how to do that shit," she complained.

We seemed to be heading out of the mall, maybe back to the van, but first, we had to pass the jewelry kiosk. "Wait. Wait." Jenny held up her arms to stop us when we were twenty feet away. "We're going to get Brooke's ears pierced, huh? Am I right?"

I whimpered.

"No excuses and especially not the lame one that you're a boy. You promised not to use that one again." She glared at me accusingly.

"Will it hurt?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Monica. "Hurts like a bitch."

"Shut up," said Gwen. "It hurts a little, not much."

I shrugged. "Okay," I said.

Jenny haggled with the ladies in the booth and got a deal, three sets of piercings for $16. They made suggestions which they let me approve—a blue star, pink heart, and white pearl in each ear. It did hurt, but it was over fast.

"Why are you letting us do this now?" Gwen asked.

"That new job?" I said. "They want to hire a girl."

*

We didn't leave immediately but ended up in the food court where someone bought a couple of those huge soft pretzels and a cup of cheese sauce. We shared, tearing apart the pretzels in our hands while enjoying the smell of hot bread and that special plastic cheese they serve in those places. I even had a couple bites of the pretzel but no cheese. After eating, we bought a gigantic Diet Mountain Dew with five straws and shared that too.

"Lemme see those shoes again, Brooke," Monica said.

I stuck my feet out where everyone could see.

"And the earrings," she demanded.

I turned my head, holding my curls back.

"Damn," she said. "You look good, you spoiled, stuck-up brat."

Everyone laughed, and I blushed, smiling.

"Guys at three o'clock," said Naomi, and everyone looked in a different direction. "I mean, three guys by the clock," she corrected herself.

"Oh," we all said. I didn't look—I'd already seen them. I didn't want to be looking at guys, because.... Something was different.

"Anybody got a phone I can borrow?" I asked.

Gwen dug out hers and passed it over.

"I hadn't seen you using it today, thought maybe you'd forgotten it," I commented, noting that it was turned off.

"I'm trying not to use it so much," she admitted.

"You should get an unlimited plan," suggested Naomi.

"That one guy, the one with a beard, he's trying to look so gnarly," said Monica.

"Uh, huh," said Jenny. "Look where he's looking." They both turned to me.

"I have an unlimited plan, that's the problem," said Gwen. She took the phone back from me to punch in her security code to turn it on.

"What?" I said, realizing that Jenny, Monica and Naomi were glaring at me.

"She does it without even knowing she's doing it," Naomi complained.

"Who're you calling?" Monica asked. "Tow-maas? Wanna see when he gets off work?"

"What? No. He doesn't get off till six."

"How do you know that?" Naomi asked me then Jenny, "How does she know that?" Then to Gwen, "I didn't hear her ask him, how does she know?"

I'd found the business card Mr. Rustami had given me in my coat pocket instead of my jeans. I was beginning to think I hadn't brought it with me after all. I got up and moved away from the chatter.

Gwen explained to Naomi. "The store opened at eleven and closes at six. It was on a sign."

"He might get off early," Monica suggested.

"Probably not," said Jenny. "They want two people there all day. And on a Thursday, it wouldn't make sense to have someone came in for a short shift."

I walked to the railing above the courtyard in the middle. I started to punch in the number, but I realized all three of the guys near the clock were watching me. The new shoes and the earrings made me feel different about being watched. I realized I kind of liked it.

I looked through my hair at them, then turned my back and finished making my connection.

Someone answered on the first ring. "Pearl East. May I direct your call?"

"May I speak with Mr. Rustami. Nader Rustami, please?" I said.

"One moment."

A voice I recognized came on in less than half a minute. "Yes? This is Nader." Same Middle Eastern flavor with the slight over-careful pronunciation of someone who learned English in school.

"Mr. Rustami, this is Riordan. From the coffee shop."

"Miss Riordan!" He sounded pleased. "What synchronicity. I was just saying to my employers that I had someone for them to consider for a future opening when our need became immediate. And now you call."

"I—I want to know more about the job," I said.

"It is hosting at company affairs. Mostly looking pretty and pouring coffee," he said. "Both things you do excellently well, Miss Riordan," he chuckled.

"Um, th-that's all?"

"But of course," he said. "That is all that is required of you. It pays $200 per occasion, more if it goes more than four hours. We need you tonight. Do you have an evening gown?"

"Ah, no," I said.

"I'm sorry, a cocktail dress will do?"

"Not one of those either, Mr. Rustami." I'm giggling, why am I giggling?

"Mmm. What are your sizes? No, never mind. Can you be here by four p.m.?"

I turned around and looked at the clock. It showed ten minutes to three. "I think so," I said. "Six-oh-one Figueroa? Downtown LA?"

"Yes, there is shopping nearby. I'll have my secretary take you out to find something suitable."

"Mr. Rustami? I don't have money...."

"Don't worry." He laughed. "And please, call me Nader. Everyone in the office does."

"Um," I said. "M-my friends call me Brooke," I said. Well, it was true, but I had no idea why I said it.

"Brooke Riordan," he said. "It is a lovely name. Do you need a car to come pick you up? Can I send an Uber? What's the address?"

"Ah. I'm at the Panorama Mall on Van Nuys. West, west entrance."

I heard him repeat that to someone with instructions to send an Uber Black. A limo? I blinked.

"They say ten to twenty minutes, dear," Nader told me when he came back on. "It will be a black Infiniti QX80, the driver's name is Rodolfo. I'm sending that to your phone."

I got a beep of an incoming message and almost panicked because this was Gwen's phone. How did he know the number? Oh, yeah, caller ID.

"Copy the message into your Uber app, and you can track the car," he said. "You should be here in fifty minutes or less. Traffic can be horrible, so just relax."

"I have the job?" I squeaked.

"Of course!" he said. "I knew you were perfect when I saw you in the coffee shop. And your smile." He laughed. "Two to four evenings a week, sometimes a meeting in the afternoon. Six hundred to a thousand a week, and sometimes a trip out of town for double or treble pay. Eh?"

"Thank you," I said. I felt tears in my eyes. Mom would be able to afford a car now.

"I have to go now, Brooke, sweetie. The girl you're replacing tonight was in an accident, and I want to visit her in the hospital."

"I—what? An accident?"

"Nothing too serious, but she broke her ankle. She'll be out for weeks. I'll see you after your shopping trip with Sharon. The meeting is at eight, in the Intercontinental across the street, so you should have time for shopping and dinner first."

'Uh...."

"Goodbye, Brooke, honey." He hung up.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. What had I got myself into? I looked down at my cute blue suede shoes and wiggled my toes inside them. "I just wanted to be taller," I whimpered.