by Justin Sayre
He talks more about the project and takes a few more questions, mostly from kids who have already started theirs but just want to check in that they’re on the right path. Hillary Brightman asks if she can bring in spaetzle, which is some weird German noodle thing that her grandmother makes, for the whole class. I have so much to think about, I can’t wait to get out of here. As soon as the bell rings, I dart out of my desk and into the hallway.
I run over to Mrs. Wren’s room, where Allegra is getting her bag together and looks like she’s been crying.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” I ask her. This is how I start most of our conversations now. Mrs. Wren watches us, pretending she’s not, while she erases the dry-erase board.
“It’s, like, seriously nothing, like, at all,” Allegra says, putting her backpack on her shoulder, hiding her face from me.
“Are you crying?”
“No.” Allegra glares at me.
“Okay, so I’ll meet you outside after last bell?” I ask.
“Sure,” Allegra says, moving into the hall.
I have to leave a note for Ryan. This is all getting to be too much, all of it, and I need at least one part to stop. I write, I need to talk to you after school, and I try to run it over without anyone noticing. But Angela Babiak and Casey Lubeck whoop and “aw” at me, for slipping a note to my boyfriend. I give them a dirty look and get into class—I don’t have time for them either.
After school, Ryan is waiting for me, like always, right by the door. He looks so freaked out and a little scared. He knows something is up. I want to lie, I want to make up some excuse or some story so he doesn’t actually feel bad about himself, or like I am choosing Allegra over him, but that is exactly what I’m doing.
“Hey, what’s up?” Ryan smiles at me, worried.
“I can’t walk home today,” I blurt out.
“Why? What happened?” Ryan says, his face sinking. “Is this about the Halloween thing?”
“I just think I need to spend a night with Allegra. I’ve been ignoring her and I don’t want to do that,” I say so fast it’s even hard for me to understand it, and I’m the one saying it.
“You can’t see her tomorrow or something?” Ryan asks, getting closer to me, probably thinking that a kiss will definitely sway me in his direction, but I step back.
“No, I have to go tonight,” I say. “I’ll text you, okay?”
Ryan stands there. He’s upset, I know that, but I just keep moving away until I find Allegra, and we get into a taxi and go. Allegra’s quiet for most of the ride, and I am too. I keep thinking of Ryan and feeling bad about it. I wish things were back to how they were before. Back to normal.
It’s weird to think that, though, because things getting back to normal would mean Janet coming back and everything that comes with it. I just never really thought, like, regular life, without a drunken mother at home, was all this complicated. The bottom of my stomach starts to hurt, like I’m hungry but different. I think to myself that I’m getting my period. I bet that’s part of it, and I’m going to Allegra’s. I don’t even know if she’ll have anything. I mean, she’s a girl, so of course she will, or at least her sister will.
“Leg, do you have a thing?” I say.
“What? Oh gosh, are you all right?” Allegra looks up from her phone with a frown.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need one.”
“Oh, we totally do in the house. Like, if I don’t, my sister does, or my mom. Don’t worry.”
Her sister does and, luckily, is so sweet and cool about it to me. I think it makes her like me even more. And Allegra like me even less.
After about an hour on the iPad, Allegra finally asks me, “Are you going to Brian’s Halloween party?”
“I’m supposed to with Ryan, but I don’t know.”
“Why? It’s, like, going to be easily, like, the best party. And you’re going with your boyfriend. That’s, like, the Best Evah,” Allegra says, looking at her screen but getting mad at it. Or at me.
“I just don’t know if I want to go.”
Allegra looks up for the first time. She’s annoyed with me.
“He does nice things for you and thinks you’re pretty. Like, what is your problem?” Allegra says, standing up from her desk and coming over to me. “I don’t get why you’re, like, crapping on Ryan like this.”
“I’m not crapping on Ryan like anything. He’s super nice, but that doesn’t mean I have to do everything he says,” I tell her, looking up at her. “I don’t want to be a girlfriend like that. It’s not my thing.”
“No, it’s not,” Allegra says. “You’re being a bad girlfriend. Like, you can just go along with stuff, because it’s worth it.”
“Why is it worth it?” I start to get agitated at her and a little loud.
“It’s, like, worth it to have that person. That person who thinks you’re smart and funny. To have that one person that thinks you’re pretty,” Allegra almost screams.
“It’s just a party, Leg,” I answer.
“Not for some of us,” Allegra says, almost starting to cry. “If you don’t go, I can’t go.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, more confused than anything.
Allegra doesn’t look up from her iPad, but it all starts to make a little sense. Brian didn’t invite her. That’s probably why she was crying today. They have that class together. I didn’t think he would be that rotten, but it is Brian so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.
Allegra wants to say more, I can see it. She wants to tell me how disappointed she is that Brian doesn’t like her. Or that she really tried. Or that she doesn’t understand why. And for the first time, I see Allegra isn’t over it at all. She’s deep in it, and she’s scared. She’s scared she’ll never be as cool as her very cool sister. Or as pretty as she thinks I am. She may never be the person who gets someone who thinks they’re smart and funny and worth it. Because deep down, I don’t know if Allegra even thinks she is. She’s scared, and in the weirdest way I feel closer to her than I ever have before. I’m scared too, I just wish we could talk about it.
But then she says, “I think I just need to have a night to myself.”
“Are you sure?” I ask her.
“Yeah. I can call you a car home, if you need one,” she says, getting back on her computer. But I say I can walk. I grab my things and walk to the doorway to say goodbye, but she doesn’t even look up at me, so I just leave.
CHAPTER 23
Auntie Amara takes me to lunch and the bookstore on Saturday afternoon.
She goes around the bookstore slowly, looking at every table and turning over different books from each. She knows about so many different things. I like following her around, amazed at all the things she picks up and trying to guess what she’ll pull next. She goes after something flashy with gold lettering and then next she’s on to something with just black-and-white pictures on the front. I try to guess the subjects, and there’s a little of something from everywhere. History. Romance. Science. Politics. She seems to want to know about everything, I want to know everything about her.
“Have you ever read this?” she asks, picking up a book with a pretty little black girl on the cover with an old-fashioned hat. “It’s by Toni Morrison. Do you know her?”
I take the book from her hand and turn it over to look at the old woman on the back. She has long dreads, like Auntie’s, but gray and white. Her eyes are open and wide, and she’s looking out at you like Auntie looks out in the morning with her coffee. It’s a look that knows something, but doesn’t tell you. Maybe that’s why you have to read the book.
“I’ll buy it for you, if you want. Or I have a copy at home. I’ll just give you that,” Auntie says, taking the book back and putting it on the table before she moves on to the next. She buys three books of poetry, a book on Syria, and another book a lady wrote about growing
up in Chicago. She heads over to the wall of journals and picks out one, then waits for me to follow after her as she sweeps through the store.
“Pick one for yourself. I want you to write,” Auntie says to me over her shoulder.
“Write what?” I ask.
“You say things sometimes,” Auntie says, “that make me laugh, girl. But laugh in a way that makes me know you’re thinking. You have a mind. And I think you should give that mind a little space. What about this space?”
Auntie picks up a pinkish notebook with the outline of a girl reading a book on the cover. There are swirls around her and some of them are coming out of her head. It doesn’t look like she’s writing at the moment, you can’t see a pen, but I imagine it’s there. I like it, but I want something different. On the side is a thick black book that looks grown-up, serious in a way. I pick that. Auntie asks if I want anything else, and I immediately go and grab a big copy of Vogue. It’ll be nice to have a “rag” around again. We used to get it delivered to the house, but Janet didn’t renew our subscription.
“Any plans tonight? With your boyfriend?” Auntie smiles.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, almost without thinking.
“Oh, did something happen?” Auntie says, putting her hand on my arm.
“No, I just don’t know if I want a boyfriend,” I say.
Auntie Amara laughs so loud, the two girls whispering nearby and a man with a flower brooch laugh back.
“Where did you come from?” Auntie asks jokingly. “You don’t want a boyfriend? You’re not like your mama, are you?”
No, I think, I’m not.
“It seems like so much work. And I have to do things that he wants to do.”
“What sort of things?” Auntie chimes in right away.
“Oh, like stupid things,” I say, trying to get back to the point.
“He’s not doing more than you’re ready for, is he?”
“No, not like that. I mean, we kiss,” I say, and instantly regret it. But she doesn’t flinch.
“And he holds my hand, and I like that. I really do. I just don’t know if I like the rest.”
Auntie Amara looks at me quizzically. “The rest?”
“Like the having to run things by him, or, like, matching for Halloween.”
I tell Auntie about the parties and everything, and all she can say to me is, “You’re breaking up with this boy over a Halloween costume. That’s cold.”
“I didn’t say I was breaking up with him.” I try to laugh it off, but I’m getting annoyed. “I’m saying that I have enough people. I have you and Ellen and Allegra, and Ducks, and Janet when she gets back, and none of them expect me to change for them.”
Auntie laughs again, loudly. “I’m proud of you. Real proud,” Auntie says when her laughter quiets down. “So what are you going to do?”
I don’t know. I just don’t.
The next morning, Auntie falls asleep on the train up to Harlem. She snores a little every couple of stops, but luckily she wakes herself up. I’m happy for the quiet, and for most of the ride, that’s all there is. I’m not thinking of anything, just her snore and the rush of the train.
In her apartment, I stare at the picture of Janet and their mother, the one Auntie took.
“Why didn’t Janet,” I ask, “why didn’t she ever take me to see your mother, or at least let me talk to her on the phone?” I spit the words out, getting angrier than I thought I would be.
Auntie looks up and sighs. “It was complicated between Janet and our mother. More than complicated, hard. They were too similar, I think, but neither would ever admit that. Janet was her favorite, and she scrutinized everything your mother did because your mother was the pretty one.
“Janet hated that, hated being picked at and pawed over, and my mother never let up. Everything she ever did had to have my mother’s full approval, and rarely did anything ever make it that far. Oh God, they would fight.
“My mother hated that Janet wanted to be a writer, then hated the fact that she wrote about fashion and culture, then hated that she traveled, and then hated your father. She didn’t even go to their wedding. None of us did. I couldn’t afford the flight to Paris.”
Why did Grandma hate my father? I want to say, it’s not that I don’t get it, but I want to hear the real reason, which I might already know but need to hear to know that it’s actually true.
“She didn’t want her daughter marrying some white man, and a French one at that.” Auntie nervously tries to laugh but stops. “My mother had no time for white folks, none at all. But it was more than that. She hated that Janet was having a life she couldn’t have. She resented her for it. Which is a terrible thing for a parent to do to any child.”
For a minute, I breathe in and think about this woman hiding her smile from the camera and think about her hating me. About her never wanting to see me, blaming me for something that is nothing I did, but just something that’s part of me, and for a minute it makes me feel as angry and as mad as when that lady looked at me and Ryan holding hands near the park. But it’s not the same. It’s a lump in my throat, but I swallow it and listen.
Auntie’s tearing up a little. She puts her hands on my shoulders and walks me over to the couch. She sits down, looking mostly at her hands and glancing up at me, nervous about saying something.
“Baby, I know the hard time you’ve had with your mother,” she says, wiping her eyes. “It breaks my heart to think you had to go through that alone.”
Auntie starts to cry, full tears, and I move closer to her on the couch, almost crying a little myself. It makes me so sad to see her like this.
“And I can’t let you go through that again,” Auntie says, patting tears away from her face and looking right in my eyes. “What would you think about coming here to live with me?”
“When?” I say.
“Starting today, if you wanted. We can go home tonight and get some of your things and bring them up here. There’s not a whole lot of room, but we can figure it all out. The couch folds out and I can sleep out here, give you the bedroom.”
“But what about school?” I ask.
“We could transfer you to a school up here in a couple weeks.” Auntie smiles. “There’s a great private school that I think you would love, that’s near the top of the park. I have a friend who teaches there, and I was talking to her about you.”
“What about Janet?” I ask. I haven’t even talked to her since she left.
“I don’t honestly know what shape she’s coming back to us in. She has a lot on her plate, and I think it would probably be the best for both of you to have some time apart. At least until things get sorted out.”
I have a million questions. They all swirl around in my head, about my house, my clothes, my school, Ducks, and Ellen, and Allegra, and Ryan, all of them, and even me. Will I make new friends? Will anyone like me here? Will I ever go back to Brooklyn? Will I ever want to? But all I say is:
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 24
Opening the front door, I can finally put my bag down and plug in my phone to check my messages. Ryan’s sent a bunch, mostly asking where I am and if I can call him to talk about Brian’s party. Halfway through his long blue list of sentences that I haven’t replied to, he starts to get nervous and doubt me totally.
I guess you don’t want to talk
Hello?
What’s up?
Can you text me PLEASE?
I mean, I was away for the day, and look at how he, like, freaks out or whatever. I don’t know how he’s going to react to the rest when I tell him about leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, because I do actually like him, I just don’t know that I, like, like like him. I just don’t have the room in me for that.
There’s one Bitmoji from Ellen blasting off on her own green farts.
&nbs
p; All the rest are from Allegra. She’s sorry, she starts off, for the other night.
You just don’t like understand because you’re like super pretty
I know that sounds weird to say, but it’s like so true
Things are way easier for you and they like always will be
I want to call her and scream the truth at her, but I don’t. I march up to my room and lie down on my bed for a minute, just silent without thinking of what to do or say to anyone next.
I get up and go into the bathroom, taking my phone with me, and I text Ellen.
nice fart hahaha
glad you like it
what’s up
nothing just got home from church
you go to church
yes with my aunt
nice
was it good
sure
are you coming over for halloween
probably
what about Brian’s
I don’t want to go
won’t Ryan be mad
I don’t care
I’ll talk to you about it later
I love Ellen. I really do, because nothing throws her. Like, just then, I probably told her everything I’m going to do, and she doesn’t even flinch. Auntie calls up to me to see what I want for dinner. I yell back that I don’t care, because honestly I don’t. And I move on to Allegra.
Hey
Hey
Sorry to get back to you so late I was with my aunt
sure I get it
sorry you’re mad
I’m not
I was just saying you like don’t get it
don’t get what?
It’s not hard for you Sophie
You have no idea
Ok
I’m sorry
are you going to Brian’s cause we should go together
I’m not
WHAT? WHY???
I just don’t want to