Hola!

The locker room seemed empty at first glance. I walked in, as I do on Mondays and Tuesdays, and sat on the bench to take off my shoes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone come around the corner. So the locker room wasn't empty, after all.

He said something to me. I didn't understand what he said. I turned to look at him.

Oh-lah! he repeated.

What? I asked.

Hola! he said, and I understood what he was trying to say this time.

He had blonde curly hair and pale skin and rosy cheeks. I have dark hair and brown skin. I figured I knew why he was speaking Spanish to me.

That is all I know: Hola! he said with a broad, sincere smile on his face.

I smiled back and said, Well, that's a start!

Perhaps I should have added amigo. No. His smile was sincere.

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