Chapter 4
Chapter 4
"I'm sure you all know that we have less than a week of rehearsals before the upcoming celebrations, and I need all of you to focus. Remind yourselves why we uphold this tradition. You have the honor of participating this year. Each of you represents Salamanca's youth, culture, and future."
Yrene Destine, the curvaceous first lady of Salamanca, was an icon on my tiny island. She was world famous for being the only Miss Universe Salamanca.
Mrs. Destine had the same unique red hair as her daughter Nydia and the same pretty and petty politeness. Although Mrs. Destine was more polished and gracious, she was beautiful and poised, the perfect politician's wife.
She stood at the podium in the grand stateroom of the Prime Minister's historic mansion, giving an impassioned speech about the importance of our roles and keeping the torch of history alive in our generation.
The Quadrille was a beloved Salamancian tradition, performed mainly during the Festival of Our Lady of the Sea, the choreographed dance stemming from West African roots. The slaves who were brought here hundreds of years ago, their touch on our island's history and culture was forever embedded.
Salamanca was rich in history. It was a colony under the flags of the Spanish and French and produced some of the world's finest sugar. Now, it was a fully independent nation.
The people of Salamanca were mighty in spirit and even more so in tradition. Although small compared to other islands, our economy thrived on tourism. Salamanca's white beaches, prized coral reefs, and historic sugar cane plantations made us world famous.
The island was split into two main cities, Esperanza to the east and Baptiste to the west. Esperanza was the historic capital, where the colorful downtown and the old colonial forts and architecture still stood and were in operation. Esperanza had the only port on the island, once coveted by pirates but now welcomed by the flood of yearly cruise ships.
We had large rolling emerald hills, all leading up to the green mountains of the countryside and small towns. Tropical cascading waterfalls are easily accessed by the roads deeply hidden away in the rainforest and dense bushes with sweet freshwater rivers.
Baptiste was more local, known for its blocks and stretches of old buildings and residences that still stood, preserving the culture, beauty, and charm forever cemented in time.
The national language was Spanish, although nearly everyone spoke English.
"Lies," Samara whispered under her breath beside me as I nudged her playfully to be on her best behavior. She fought with her mother endlessly about participating this year.
Twenty boys and twenty girls shuffled together awkwardly, tired and annoyed from performing the same practiced movements for the past three hours under Mrs. Destine's ideal of perfection.
I felt Aristeo playfully poke my hand, his green eyes exasperated by his mother's words, winking at me.
Aristeo Destine was tall and athletic, with tanned, warm skin and a boyishly handsome face. He had the perfect grades and a melting smile.
He was a junior and the captain of the football team. He was a hero who brought home the national title last year, giving our island an international spotlight. Scouts from professional leagues flew in from other countries to attend his games. Aristeo was incredibly talented with the ball and given the nickname " pies de oro," golden foot.
I'd known him since we were little kids. He was close to my cousin, Julian, Samara's older brother, who was away at university in the States.
"Let's run through this one more time, ladies and gentlemen," Mrs. Destine announced, clapping her hands and dismissing the resounding moans of complaint.
We lined up in our assigned positions, Aristeo taking my hand and leading as we waited for the drum signal to begin.
"I've been practicing this in my sleep," he complained with a playful smile, his eyes lighting up the way they always did.
"I think we all have." I laughed, glancing around us. Samara was having a hard time, as always, with Kerby Eolus, who was more her mortal enemy than her partner.
I looked concerned to Samara, silently asking if she needed any help.
Samara shook her head, assuring me. She rolled her eyes, bored at whatever he was telling her.
"I don't mind," Aristeo said, returning my focus to him. I get to practice with the most beautiful girl on the island," he replied with a wide grin.
I rolled my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Things between Aristeo and me had been changing. His eyes lingered more on my face. He insisted on walking me to and from the school gates in the morning and afternoon, carrying my books. He had recently joined the gardening club.
Aristeo was the only male in our school, brave and mature enough to do so. He had never been like the other boys.
"Dove." his eyes dulled with concern, his grip on my hand becoming stronger.
I was thrown off by the rare flash of anger in his eyes.
"Is it true that you danced with Meroveo De Los Santos?" he asked, slightly blushing, the hostile intensity still in his eyes.
"We did. You could take lessons from him," I teased playfully, trying to change his sudden mood.
This wasn't like him.
"Why?" I asked. I felt the underlying danger of curiosity, the temptation to know more about Meroveo.
"There are rumors about him I don't like. People whisper things about him." Aristeo said uncomfortably, frowning.
"What kind of rumors?" I asked, secretly curious, my heart beating in secret anticipation to know more about him.
"People say they do bad business,” he said, refusing to say anything else.
"I'm not defenseless, Aristeo. You can tell me."
"Just know that he's not a good man," he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Promise me you'll stay away from him," Aristeo demanded that I agree.
"I've been forbidden by my mother from ever talking to him, and I doubt our paths will ever cross again," I breathed out, feeling my heart thumping in my chest, heavy and uncomfortable with my lies.
"Good." Aristeo smiled, relieved, as his playful nature came back.
I never promised him anything.