shop when they turned the corner. It looked as if the garage had once been a neighborhood gas station. The corners of the cement building were chipped and the entire structure was badly in need of a fresh coat of paint.
Emilio opened the glass front door and walked inside. "Roberto!" he shouted.
His brother's reply was muffled.
"He's in the garage," Emilio said, gesturing to the narrow doorway that led to a large open area that served as the repair shop. Brynn followed her student inside.
"I drummed up some business for you," Emilio announced proudly, and motioned toward Brynn.
Roberto Alcantara slowly unfolded from a quarter panel of the blue Metro and reached for the pink rag tucked inside his coveralls pocket.
"Hello, Mr. Alcantara."
"Call him Roberto," Emilio insisted. "This is Miss Cassidy," he continued, looking well pleased with himself. "She's the teacher I was telling you about."
"Hello."
Roberto nodded and wiped his hands. His face remained emotionless.
"Ms. Cassidy's having car troubles."
"My car won't start," she elaborated. "I doubt that it's the battery. It ran perfectly fine this morning . . . at least I thought it did."
"She doesn't know anything about cars," Emilio inserted. "Her specialty is dangling particles."
"Participles," Brynn corrected.
Emilio chuckled. "See what I mean?"
"I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Cassidy," Roberto said coolly, and tossed the rag onto his tool bench.
"I left my car in the school parking lot." She twisted her arm around and pointed in the direction of the school, which was completely unnecessary. Roberto Alcantara knew very well where the high school was.
Roberto said something to Emilio in Spanish. Emilio nodded quickly, then turned abruptly and hurried out of the garage. Within a matter of a minute she heard the youth talking on the phone, again in Spanish. Before he left, he collected her car keys.
"I've had Emilio call for a tow truck," Roberto informed her. "He'll meet the driver over at the school."
"Thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help."
Roberto said nothing.
Without being obvious, Brynn studied Emilio's brother. Roberto was tall and lean. His skin was the color of warm honey, his eyes and hair as dark a shade of brown as she'd ever seen. She guessed him to be around her own age, perhaps a year or two older. He wasn't openly hostile, but he did nothing to put her at ease. Every attempt at conversation was dead-ended.
As the minutes passed, the silence became more and more strained. Brynn wondered what she could have done to earn his disapproval, then realized it must be the incident with Emilio in the hall the first day she was at the school.
"I imagine you're upset with me because I was the one responsible for Emilio's suspension," she tried again. She wouldn't apologize, but she was prepared to state her side of the case. If he was willing to listen, that was.
"I'm not the least bit upset," he surprised her by answering. "Emilio knows the rules. He deserved what he got." He returned to working on the Metro and ignored her.
The next time he straightened, Brynn asked, "You don't like me, do you?" Normally she wouldn't be so confrontational, but it had been one of those days. If she'd done something to offend him, she wanted to know about it.
"That's right," he concurred.
"Do you mind telling me why?"
Apparently this was just the doorway he'd been waiting to walk through. Roberto met her look brazenly and continued. "Because you're filling my brother's head with nonsense."
"How do you mean?" Brynn struggled not to sound defensive and doubted that she'd succeeded.
He flung his arm in the air. "All your talk about the importance of an education. A high school diploma isn't going to help Emilio any more than it did me. Tell me, Miss Cassidy, exactly how is the history of World War Two going to feed a family? Will reading about Anne Frank get him a decent job?"
"Yes . . . well, not directly," she faltered. "Education is the answer for Emilio." She couldn't believe Roberto would say such a thing.
"Emilio would be better off if he dropped out of school now and learned a trade." He turned his back on her and appeared to be looking for something on his tool bench. He carelessly tossed aside a wrench and reached for another.
"I soundly disagree," Brynn said.
"That's your right."
In all her years, Brynn had never heard anyone discourage someone from an education. "Don't tell me you actually want your brother to quit school. Surely your parents object to that."
"I'm