My mother said that out of all five of her children
I was the easiest baby
I think what she meant was that I hardly cried,
Rarely fussed
And was generally asleep
Which I guess was a good thing, for her
As the fourth of five she had a lot to deal with before she could get to me
So I made it easier for her
I kept doing it as I grew up
If one of my siblings dropped their ice cream,
I'd give them mine so they'd stop making a scene
When someone had to sit in a middle seat
You can bet that's where my car seat would be strapped
In fifth grade, when Clara Gomez stole my cookie from my lunch box
I just shrugged, and ate my carrot sticks
My nickname was "montañita", little mountain
Because I was never moved, never bothered, always calm
In seventh grade, I broke my leg
But I didn't tell anyone for three days
I just gritted my teeth and hopped along
Until my father found me crying on the bathroom floor
He took me to the hospital, and bought me a cast we couldn't afford
And when the kids at school called me a cripple
Well, you can guess what I did
In high school, my little sister Sofia was getting picked on by some boys
I pretended I didn't see it happen
But that night, I switched out her too-small uniform skirt for mine
She stopped getting teased,
And I wore pants for the rest of the year
When my college Algebra professor lost my test and made me retake it, I just nodded and did it
When I got catcalled walking across campus,
I just looked down at the ground
And you
The first day you came up to me and offered to buy me coffee
I was sure you were making fun of me too
So I stayed quiet
Eventually, you flashed me that blinding smile and told me, "Guess I'll take that as a yes, then."
I think I said about three words to you that first day
But I gave you my number
And answered when you called