Mrs. McOllie is sad to be losing me in three months, but says, “I’ll take what I can get from you!” which makes me feel good. I’m saving as much as I can to have spending money while I’m away, and Mrs. McOllie says I’m welcome to work during the month that I’m home at Christmas. We’ll see. I might have to take her up on it so I can go shopping in Paris.
Paris! I have to pinch myself daily.
The girls make the squad, of course, and our next stressor is final exams, and for me, signing up for those two online classes. But this stress feels different. It feels like a necessary evil, a burden of responsibility that will let me move forward. So I try to embrace it.
I’m glad to be on cloud nine, otherwise I’d be harping on and on about why my mystery poem guy has stopped writing, and why Joel has sort of avoided me since prom. I haven’t seen him and Sierra talking anymore, but that doesn’t mean they’re not hanging out behind the scenes. I’m not sure what I did to him, but maybe it’s better this way. A guy right now would complicate things. Still, I kind of miss him.
Since school is almost out, I write a note and stick it through the slats of my locker, poking out just enough for mystery poet to hopefully see it.
I don’t know who you are. I wish you would tell me, but I guess you have your reasons. I need to thank you. You don’t know it, but you helped me through a really hard time in my life. There were some days when your words were the only good thing. So thank you. I’ll never forget you. Zae
When I go back later, the note is gone but nothing is left in its place.
On the last day of school there’s a huge crowd in the main hall after the final bell.
“Is there a fight?” Kenzie asks.
And then I hear someone say, “Rap battle!”
What? Yes! I smile at Kenzie, and we wiggle our way to the front. When we get close enough to see, my feet come to a skidding halt and Kenzie slaps my arm.
“It’s your friend Joel!”
Holy crap! Joel’s standing in the middle, arms crossed, hat on backward, feet spread, staring at a straight-faced Kwami like they’re about to fight. All around us people are cramming in. Some girls are hoisted up on shoulders to watch. Some climb on top of lockers. I hear the gym coach shout, “What’s going on here?” And a student says, “Hurry up, y’all!” People are holding up their phones to record.
Kwami’s voice rises, hushing the crowd. I feel nervous and excited.
“Y’all, break out your phones, get those vid buttons hit,
’Cause I’m takin’ on white boy, it’s about to get lit!” He steps to Joel and goes on.
“Imma take you to task, wipe the floor with these rags.
Dirty up that yellow head, walk out wit money in bags.”
Joel claps back without hesitation and the hairs on my arms stand straight up.
“You can go ahead and try, you know I love a good laugh.
You’ll be cryin’ by the end, enough tears for a bath.
God showed his humor when he made me, pale skin droppin’ def beats,
The day you came along, he was yawnin’ in his shredded wheats.”
Kwami rubs a thumb against his nose and grabs at his crotch.
“Bro, please. You think you all that and more.
I got the rhymes and the time, Imma settle the score.
Back down, on your knees, go hug on some trees,
You about to feel the sting of my words, killer bees!”
Joel never loses his blasé expression despite the hollers from students.
“On my knees? Think again. You get no action today.
In fact, you get no action anytime, the rumors say.
Kwami’s tame. It’s a shame. The dude needs some sin.
He can’t even grow hair on his chinny-chin-chin.”
He tweaks Kwami’s smooth chin while the crowd reacts in laughter and cheers. Even teachers are watching with smiles.
“Oh, now it’s on, Slim Shady, with a side of gravy.
I got the balls to tell a girl when she can have my baby.
Unlike you, Romeo, who slips a poem in her locker.
Wherefore is her love? Not with you! Big shocker!”
Pow. My head spins. The crowd’s cheers are lost on me as Kenzie grabs my arm and screams. I’m staring at Joel’s serious face as he smirks at Kwami, and things click into place. Every inch of me is on fire.
“It’s called romance, my man, you should give it a try,
Instead of chasing every tail till the day that you die.
Call me puss all you want—we both know I ain’t soft,
Keep being wack. I got your back. I hold my standards aloft.”
Everyone is cheering like crazy, punching the air; and teachers start hollering for students to clear the hall, fire code violations, busses being made late, blah, blah, blah. I get jostled side to side as I stare at Joel.
“It’s him!” Kenzie is shouting.
I know. I think maybe I’ve known for a while, and I so did not want to fall for him.
But now. Oh, now. It is on.
I push through the throng of smiling, laughing, shouting faces, people clapping both guys on the back and smacking their hats. When I’m finally in front of Joel, he is as collected and unreactive as ever. Only the slightest lift of his eyebrows responds to my face in his.
I say nothing because he’s said enough for both of us.
I just kiss him.
Cheers erupt as my hands go around his neck and his go around my waist. He smells just as heavenly as ever, even better because there is no tinge of cigarettes, and his mouth is hot on mine. His lips are just right. His tongue is soft but firm, not overpowering or underwhelming. His kiss is just like him—understated, poetic, sensual. I kinda sorta wish we weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people.
“Enough!” a teacher shouts, too closely, breaking Joel and me apart. “Clear out, everyone! Be safe! Have a good summer!” The coach makes his way closer to disperse the crowd and holds out a fist to Joel and Kwami, saying, “Nice lyrics.”
They both bump his knuckles and the teacher moves on.
Kwami looks at me and says, “Where’s my love?”
I go to hug him, and Joel pulls me to him, putting an arm around me. “Uh-uh, bro.”
Kwami laughs. “Man, you selfish.”
“I’ll hug you!” Kenzie says out of nowhere. She does, and Kwami picks her up like the pixie she is, making her laugh. She smiles at Joel, then me, and says, “See you at the car?”
“Yeah,” I say.
Kwami leaves us, too, and Joel takes his hand from around my shoulder, leaning against a locker.
“You could have told me,” I say quietly.
“You’re going away.” He looks down and puts his hands in his baggy jeans pockets.
“Yeah, but you haven’t talked to me since prom. You didn’t know I was going away then.”
He lifts his chin just enough to peer up at me guiltily.
“Wait . . .” I put a hand on my hip and pretend to be mad. “Did you look in my file?”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Let’s just say Mrs. Crowley’s filing system is piling everything on her desk for the world to see. It wasn’t hard.”
I cross my arms as things suddenly feel more serious.
“You’re on the rise, girl. I’m not gonna hold you down. You’ve gotta build up that list of yours with Latino and Parisian names.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. He’ll never let me live down the stupid non-list.
“Zae,” he says gently. “You’re going. And I’m staying. Those are the facts.”
I take a deep breath, my blood pumping hard with nervousness. “I don’t have to be single when I go. People have long-distance relationships all the time.”
He gives his head a slow shake. “You should be single on this journey. It needs to be about you.”
I feel torn. He’s being selfless, willing to let me go, but am I willing to let him go? Leaving him behind feels like an op
portunity lost. He makes me feel tingly and special and I want a future where I can kiss him every day.
I swallow hard. “How do you know what I need? I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You’ll be a changed woman when you get back, Zae. Your aspirations will probably be higher than me, and that’s a good thing.”
My lips purse with displeasure. “This trip’s not going to change who I am or turn me into a snob.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Does this mean you won’t even write to me?” I’m shaking now, realizing I’m losing this great guy before I ever had him.
“If you want me to write you, Zae, I will write you every day.” He means it. His sincerity makes me inhale and let it out slowly, calming me down.
“How about this,” he says. “We’ll write. No pressure. Life happens. When you get back, if you still want to give it a go, I’ll be here. I ain’t going nowhere.”
“You might fall for another girl between now and then.” My stomach sours at the thought of him being there for some other girl, slipping her poems.
“And you might fall for another guy. We can’t get mad about that.”
But I already feel mad about it.
He reaches for both my hands and pulls me to him, holding me to his chest and nuzzling my hair with his face. I let him hold me until my heart stops hammering and my stomach stops churning with jealousy of girls I don’t even know.
“Can we at least hang out this summer before I go?” I ask.
I close my eyes as I wait for his answer, which is a long time coming.
“I think that’ll be dangerous,” he says.
“Why?” I whisper.
His laugh is airy. “Because I don’t want to fall for you any harder. I’ve been trying to talk myself out of liking you all year.”
I pull back. All year? His serious gaze assures me.
“And I knew you were after Big Boy. I could tell the second you were single.”
I shake my head, feeling defensive and embarrassed. “And what about you and Sierra? I know you went home with her after prom.”
He’s steady in his response. “I drove her home ’cause her date was trashed and she was upset. The end. I know better than to fall back with someone who burned me, but I’m not gonna leave her hangin’ either.” A slow grin grows on his sexy lips. “Were you jealous?”
“You didn’t say goodbye.”
His humor dissipates. “That was rude of me. I saw you dancing with Dean, and then . . .” He shakes his head and I realize he was jealous, too.
“I had no more feelings for him by the time he got with Monica. I promise.”
“Well.” He scuffs the floor. “I knew I needed to distance myself, regardless.”
I go up on my toes and give him a soft peck until he lets out a quiet moan. When I pull back, he runs a thumb over my cheek. “Make me a promise.”
I nod.
“Don’t get mad at me if I need to keep that distance.” He’s still going to hold back? I lock my jaw, hating the thought. After all this, I’m pissed.
“There’s that fire,” he says. “Let me explain.” He picks up a loose ball of paper from the floor and holds it in his open palm. “That’s you.” He points to the trash and I glower. “Only you’re prettier, of course. Imagine it a little less dirty with sexy lips.”
I smack my lips and cross my arms. “Keep going.”
“And my hand is me. This is my instinct when I think about you leaving.” He curls his hand closed tight around the paper, crumpling the life out of it and eyeing me. When he opens his hand again, the paper looks sad. Smaller. “But I gotta fight that instinct and keep my hand just like this.” He keeps it open. “So you can go where the wind takes you.”
“You don’t want to be together,” I say quietly, understanding.
“Yet,” he reiterates.
I tend to be an all-in kind of person. Holding back will be hard, but at the same time, it feels wrong to force him, us, into something serious when we know it’s going to be difficult to be far apart.
“Okay,” I whisper.
We walk side by side out to the parking lot, bumping each other with our hips and shoulders as we go. I spot my squad waiting by the van, huddled, smiling when they see us coming. My heart expands and snaps back, stinging. I have so much to stay for.
As if reading my mind, Joel says under his breath, “Up you go, Zae Monroe. No looking back.”
Senior Year Abroad
[email protected]: Hey Lin, 你好吗？我想你。
[email protected]: WTH, Zae? You know I can’t read that. What does it say?
[email protected]: Figure it out. And don’t use an online translator. Use the alphabet booklet I got you.
[email protected]: Ugh! You suck! Fine!
[email protected]: Aww. I did it! I’m doing great and I miss you, too! This is actually kind of fun . . .
[email protected]: OMG, Zae! You’ll never believe this! Vincent and I are homecoming king and queen!!
[email protected]: Gahhhh!!! Of course I believe it! Send all the pics!
[email protected]: Also, I ate a whole hot dog in front of him before the game. I know that sounds stupid to anyone else, but it was a big deal for me and I know you’ll understand.
[email protected]: I am so proud of you! Stop making me cry!
Zae,
I see you in my mind’s eye, feasting on carne and cerveza,
Smiling and laughing, still loca en la cabeza.
I see your friends in the hall, like a three-legged cat,
Missing their Zae, it ain’t the same, that’s a fact.
How’s your list? Never mind. I don’t want to know.
Things at Peakton are fine, but every day is a show.
To answer your question I’m still single,
This kid’s too busy to mingle,
Learning days, working nights.
Enjoying Friday night lights.
I saw a juice the other day, said he’s missing your lips.
I told him, Have some pride, my man, but he ain’t open to tips.
For real, I hope you are well, and learning all the big words.
From your friend in America, flying high with the birds. J
PS—not really high, just needed a rhyme . . . and I’m done with cigs, too. For real this time. Though I partake in vaping on occasion. Oral fixation and all that.
Epilogue
Joel was right. My kiss list did grow while I was in Argentina and France. Fun kisses. Spontaneous kisses. Moments with gorgeous foreign boys that made me laugh and smile but did not reach my heart, which I kept heavily guarded with someone else’s name on it.
Joel kept his promise to write me, and I’ve saved every word.
We learned each other’s favorite songs and books. I told him every weird new thing I ate, and he dared me to try more. I confided in him about my family, and he told me about his brother and how close they were, and how his letters from prison depress the hell out of him. We told each other so much in those letters, and yet I felt the distance between us with each word. His careful avoidance of intimacy. He was always kind, always uplifting, never closing his hand on me.
Monica and Lin weren’t great about emailing, but I could always count on them to video chat. Kenzie was the best about keeping me up-to-date on every sordid, dramatic detail of Peakton life.
Monica and Dean broke up the first month of senior year. Apparently they were both so busy with sports that they grew apart. Lin and Parker lasted until after homecoming in the fall when they got early acceptance to schools in different states. Meeka and Kwami were spotted kissing after a basketball game—guess he finally won her over. Quinton and Camille had a baby in March. Señora Hernandez asked Kenzie about me all the time, and the cheer squad took third place at regionals.
Through senior year, Vincent and Kenzie were still going strong, both accepte
d to James Madison University. Monica’s headed to University of Virginia, and Lin to UVA’s rival school, Virginia Tech. That gives me three colleges to visit this fall. I can’t complain.
Mom started dating a guy named Dennison, and according to Zebby she keeps laughing like a teenager and humming show tunes around the house. Dad and Jacquie are still together. I officially met her, as his girlfriend, at their condo before I left on my trip. It was weird, but I was nice and so was she.
Everything in the United States feels surreal when I return for graduation. I’m now fluent in three languages. I’ve been looking into jobs, but I keep going back to the flight attendant thing. I’ve heard it’s not as glamorous as it seems, but is any job? I’m just not ready to be behind a desk. Plus, flight attendants get a certain amount of free airline tickets each year, and let’s just say there are a lot of places I want to go.
But first things first. I have a graduation to attend and a score to settle with a certain Mr. Joel Ruddick, who cannot avoid me any longer. According to Kenzie, he wasn’t spotted romancing any other girls while I was away, which gives me hope. She kept a special eye on him and Sierra, but Sierra was almost always dating other guys. I have no idea if Joel’s feelings are still the same as mine. A year is a long time to wait. But I intend to find out today.
The school stadium is a madhouse of families all dressed up and roasting under the sun, and graduates. The guys wear navy-blue robes while the girls wear white. I made a glittery Eiffel Tower on my mortarboard graduation cap. Parts of my heart are still in Buenos Aires and Paris. I envision their streets when I close my eyes. I know I missed a lot, but I will never regret a single moment.
It’s good to be with my loved ones again, though. I link hands with Monica, Lin, and Kenzie in the gymnasium where graduates are called to line up. They keep saying I look different, but when I ask them to elaborate, they can’t. They just look at me like I’m glowing or something, and I know what they mean. I see it in them, too.
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