"Yeah, sure," said Carmencita.

"It's true, Lupe hung out at the dance school," said María.

"So how did she end up here?" asked a girl who hadn't spoken before, the shortest one of all, almost a dwarf.

María looked at her and shrugged.

"Will you come have coffee with us?" she said.

Lupe checked the watch on her right wrist and then looked at her friends.

"The thing is, I'm working."

"Just for a little while, you'll be back soon," said María.

"All right, then. Work can wait," said Lupe. "I'll see you girls later." She started to walk with María. I walked behind them.

We turned left on Magnolia, onto Avenida Jesús García. Then we walked south again, to Héroes Revolucionarios Ferrocarrileros, where we went into a coffee shop.

"Is this the kid you've been fooling around with?" I heard Lupe say to María.

María laughed again.

"He's just a friend," she said, and to me: "If Lupe's pimp shows up here, you'll have to defend us both, García Madero."

I thought she was kidding. Then it occurred to me she might be serious and, frankly, the situation started to seem appealing. Just then I couldn't imagine a better way to look good in front of María. I felt happy. We had the whole night ahead of us.

"My man is heavy," said Lupe. "He doesn't like me to be running around with strangers." It was the first time she had looked directly at me when she spoke.

"But I'm not a stranger," said María.

"No, mana. Not you."

"Do you know how I met Lupe?" said María.

"I have no idea," I said.

"At the dance school. Lupe was Paco Duarte's girlfriend. Paco is the Spanish dancer who's the head of the school."

"I went to see him once a week," said Lupe.

"I didn't know you took dance lessons," I said.

"I don't. I just went there to fuck," said Lupe.

"I meant María, not you."

"Since I was fourteen," said María. "Too late to be a good ballerina. That's the way it goes."

"What do you mean? You're a great dancer! Weird, but the truth is everyone in that place is half insane. Have you seen her dance?" I said I hadn't. "You'd fall head over heels."

María shook her head to deny it. When the waitress came we ordered three coffees and Lupe also ordered a cheese sandwich, no beans.

"I can't digest them," she explained.

"How's your stomach?" said María.

"Not bad. Sometimes it hurts a lot, other times I forget it exists. It's nerves. When it gets to be too much, I just have a toke and it's fixed. So what about you? Aren't you going to the dance school anymore?"

"Not so often," said María.

"This idiot walked in on me once in Paco Duarte's office," said Lupe.

"I almost died laughing," said María. "Actually, I don't know why I started to laugh. Maybe I was in love with Paco and it was hysterics."

"Come on, mana, you know he wasn't your type."

"So what were you doing with this Paco Duarte?" I said.

"Nothing, really. I met him once on the street and since he couldn't come to me and I couldn't go to his house because he's married to a gringa, I'd go see him at the dance school. Anyway, I think that was what he liked, the scumbag. Fucking me in his office."

"And your pimp let you go that far out of your zone?" I said.

"My zone? What do you know about my zone? And who said I have a pimp?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that a minute ago María said your pimp was the violent type, didn't she?"

"I don't have a pimp. You think just because I'm talking to you, you have the right to insult me?"

"Calm down, Lupe. No one's being insulted," said María.

"This dickhead insulted my man," said Lupe. "If he hears you he'll show you. Little punk. He'll take you down in a second. I bet you wish you could suck my man's dick."

"Hey, I'm not a homosexual."

"All of María's friends are faggots, everybody knows that."

"Lupe, leave my friends alone. When Lupe was sick," María said to me, "Ernesto and I took her to the hospital. It's amazing how quickly some people forget a favor."

"Ernesto San Epifanio?" I said.

"Yes," said María.

"Did he take dance lessons too?"

"He used to," said María.

"Oh, Ernesto, I have such good memories of him. I remember he lifted me up all by himself and put me in a taxi. Ernesto is a faggot," Lupe explained to me, "but he's strong."

"It wasn't Ernesto who got you into the taxi, stupid, it was me," said María.

"That night I thought I was going to die," said Lupe. "I was fucked up and suddenly I felt sick and I was vomiting blood. Buckets of blood. Deep down, I don't think I would have cared if I did die. I was just remembering my son and my broken promise and the Virgen de Guadalupe. I'd been drinking until the moon came up, little by little, and since I didn't feel good, that dwarf girl you saw gave me some Flexo. That was my big mistake. The cement must have gone bad or I was already sick, but whatever it was, I started to die on a bench on the Plaza San Fernando and that was when my friend here showed up with her partner the faggot angel."

"Lupe, you have a son?"

"My son died," said Lupe, fixing me with her gaze.

"But how old are you, then?"

Lupe smiled at me. Her smile was big and pretty. "How old do you think I am?"

I was afraid to guess, and I didn't say anything. María put her arm around Lupe's shoulders. The two of them looked at each other and smiled or winked, I'm not sure which.

"A year younger than María. Eighteen."

"We're both Leos," said María.

"What sign are you?" said Lupe.

"I don't know. I've never paid much attention to that kind of thing, to tell the truth."

"Well, then you're the only person in Mexico who doesn't know his own sign," said Lupe.

"What month were you born, García Madero?" said María.

"January, the sixth of January."

"You're a Capricorn, like Ulises Lima."

"The Ulises Lima?" Lupe said.

I asked her whether she knew him, afraid they would tell me that Ulises Lima went to the dance school too. For a microsecond, I saw myself dancing on tiptoe in an empty gym. But Lupe said she had only heard about him, that María and Ernesto San Epifanio talked about him a lot.

Then Lupe started to talk about her dead son. The baby was four months old when he died. He was born sick, and Lupe had promised the Virgin that she would stop working if her son recovered. She kept her promise for the first three months, and according to her the baby seemed to be getting better. But in the fourth month she had to start working again and he died. She said the Virgin took him away because she didn't keep her word. Lupe was living in a building on Paraguay at the time, near the Plaza de Santa Catarina, and she would leave the baby with an old woman who took care of him at night. One morning, when she got back, they told her that her son was dead. And that was it.

"It isn't your fault," said María. "Don't be superstitious."

"How can it not be my fault? Who broke her promise? Who said that she was going to change her life and didn't?"

"Then why didn't the Virgin kill you instead of your son?"

"The Virgin didn't kill my son," said Lupe. "She took him away, which is a whole different thing. She punished me by leaving me on my own, and she took him away to a better life."

"Oh, well, if that's how you see it, then what's the problem?"

"Of course, that solves everything," I said. "And when did you meet each other, before or after the baby?"

"After," said María, "when this girl here was running wild. Lupe, I think you wanted to die."

"If it hadn't been for Alberto, I would have called it quits," said Lupe with a sigh.

"Alberto is your… boyfriend, I guess," I said. "Do you know him?" I asked María, and she nodded her head yes.