Just to See a Smile
by Yusui Dennis, 826LA student
Originally published in From the Couch to the Kitchen: A Book to Indulge In

A couple of days before my birthday, thoughts are in the air of what I want to do. I’m turning seventeen; I’m getting older; I’m almost an adult. I’m excited to choose where to eat for my birthday. Should I go fancy like Castaway, or should I come in under the budget and go to Porto’s Bakery? Porto’s hits my taste buds when I hear the bakery’s name coming from my mom and sister. Looking back to the humor, cheerful times, and endless smiles at Porto’s, I feel it would be great to go there for my birthday. Even though I wanted to go fancy for once, nothing can beat the smiles of my loved ones.

I am filled with excitement even though we’ve been to Porto’s many times. Money has been an issue lately, so whatever money is spent on me to have a great birthday, I’m going to appreciate. It’s also an opportunity to eat great pastries, a well-seasoned tuna croissant, and—to top it off—a fruit tart bordered with whipped cream and sprinkled with granola bits.

As I wait for my birthday, my stomach grows anxious. I want to fast the last day so that I can enjoy one great afternoon meal. Lying down in bed the night before my birthday, my anxiety grows, knowing exactly what I’m going to order although all I really want is jubilant smiles from my siblings and, especially, my mother. I go to sleep, and it seems that in no time I’m awake, ready to start the next day. In the morning, the first to surprise me is my girlfriend, with a desk lamp that I need. Soon after, my little brother wakes up and gives me my birthday hugs. As we head to school, my girlfriend brightens up my day. And when I get to school, friends give me hugs. I say to myself, My day has started out good.

After every period my stomach grumbles more and more. It tenses up. I don’t even have a six-pack, but it feels like all my stomach muscles were flexing into eight. Getting near the end of school, all I can imagine is my cake topped with fruits of all vibrant colors. I’m hoping for it but doubting I’ll get it at the same time. I come out of school with a Kool-Aid smile, like when I was in grade school and winter or summer vacation came along. My mom is quick to call me. “¿Ya vienes? Are you coming already?” she asks.

Walking home from school, I come across fast-food restaurants and barbecue shops that make my stomach ache. Tempted to buy a drink, I wait, hold my patience, and keep walking, ignoring juicy burger advertisements and pictures of creamy Burger King vanilla shakes that are good for a summer day, but not today. Today all I want is my tuna sandwich and fruit tart. Once I get to Norton Avenue, anxiety grows at the thought of potato balls filled with ground beef and cheese. My mouth is quick to salivate like a starving dog’s.

As I walk into my house, the first thing I see is the colorful fruit tart sitting in the middle of the table. I can’t wait to grab a couple slices, I say to myself. I head to my room to drop off my backpack and empty my pockets. I have a minor headache from a long day at school, nothing big. Then I go outside and feed my dogs—a pit bull mix and Akita mix. Happy to see me, they jump on me and get me dirty, so I have to change. Soon after, I rush to the table eager to eat, hungry from a long day at school. After receiving hugs and good wishes from everyone in my family, the feasting begins. I enjoy taking my first bite into the fresh tuna sandwich, then grabbing a hot yellow chili pepper that turns my lips red. I bite again after a sip of ice-cold Dr. Pepper. Halfway through my tuna sandwich, I grab a potato ball—seasoned beef and pork, covered by potato and bread crumbs, then lightly fried. I put a little bit of Tapatio to add a bit of spice.

Once the fruit tart starts getting cut, my little brother is quick to grab the birthday-boy slice. I let him, knowing he had a long day at school, too. I grab a slice, tasting every flavor of the kiwi, watermelon, pineapple, sweet-and-sour apple, coconut, mango, and my favorite—strawberry. Every color of fruit combines into a rainbow. The acidic taste flows through my mouth. It feels like with every bite I take, I go into a hole and count down every childhood year. I know to appreciate what I get because I may not have the same people around me in the future. Things are things. You can spend time on things, or with your loved ones, I think to myself.

After enjoying every last bit of the first slice, I grab one more. It is a great-tasting fruit tart. My mom and sister, along with my girlfriend, are making jokes about how much I was craving my fruit tart and how I finally had it. A “woman trio,” I call them. I tell myself that I am going to get a third slice—it is just so irresistible. When I finish eating, my stomach is crammed with great flavors. I am satisfied and happy. We don’t finish the tart, so that means I have more to stuff my face with later. The whole day went how I pictured it: no arguments and a great afternoon meal with my family. The day couldn’t have gone better. I was embraced by love, by what my family did for me just to see a smile on my face.

Time flies. Age is just a number. Growing comes with knowledge, wisdom, and experience. I didn’t feel seventeen. I don’t know what age I felt, but I did know that I was still a kid, growing older by the second.

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