Girls Like Me

by Tanya Savory

  Just then, Mr. Collins strode into the classroom and began taking attendance. Unusually tall and broad, Mr. Collins looked more like a linebacker than an English teacher. He had a full bushy beard, a booming voice, and he often seemed uncomfortably constricted in the dress shirts and ties he wore. Occasionally he would loosen his tie so it hung slack around his neck. As big and gruff as he was, Mr. Collins often became emotional when discussing his favorite poems. Sharice and other students thought he was strange, but Mr. Collins was Angel’s favorite teacher. Yet today, she didn’t want to see him— or anyone.

  Mr. Collins opened his book and started pacing in front of the class. He read silently for a moment and then stared toward the back of the room, his gaze faraway and tender, as if he were looking at a beautiful sunrise instead of a cinderblock wall.

  Angel heard a few stifled snorts of laughter from students behind her. Then Mr. Collins boomed out a stanza of the poem he had assigned for homework:

  “The caged bird sings

  with fearful trill

  of the things unknown

  but longed for still

  and his tune is heard

  on the distant hill

  for the caged bird

  sings of freedom.”

  Mr. Collins finished reading and sighed, his eyes suddenly misty.

  “So, what is Maya Angelou saying?” he asked, moving between rows of students. “Earlier we saw a free bird floating on the breeze and claiming the entire sky as his own. Here Angelou presents a caged bird with clipped wings. And yet the caged bird sings. Why?”

  Silence filled the classroom. A few students shifted in their seats. Someone nearby coughed. Angel knew her classmates expected her to answer. It’s what usually happened, but now her thoughts were clouded by what Sharice had just done.

  Why didn’t she listen? Why does she think I need a boyfriend? The questions came to Angel in waves, but one stuck in her mind with a voice louder than the others.

  Why do I feel so different from everyone else?

  Angel looked around the classroom, her eyes suddenly burning. It seemed as if all the girls she knew had changed in the past year. Like Sharice, they chattered nonstop about boys, parties, and the clothes they wanted to wear to parties to impress the boys. More and more often, Angel felt as if she was on the outside looking in, watching everyone else move along happily and effortlessly while she felt trapped.

  “Anyone?” Mr. Collins asked. He caught Angel’s eyes just as she wiped them. “Angel? What do you think?”

  Please, Mr. Collins. Not now, she wanted to say.

  Instead she took a deep breath and stared at the poem. She felt like that bird, shut in a cage watching the free birds having the time of their lives.

  “Well,” Angel said finally, looking up from her book into Mr. Collins’s eyes. “I don’t know why a trapped bird would ever sing. I would think it would want to cry, instead.”

  “I just wish you hadn’t done that,” Angel said to Sharice as they walked home after school.

  It was a warm Friday afternoon, and Angel squinted at the sun that glared down at them. The older apartment buildings and squat stucco homes that lined her street looked small and uncomfortably close as she walked. The few weedy yards near her house seemed imprisoned behind their chainlink fences. Angel thought they almost looked like small jails.

  “But it worked!” Sharice replied. “You’re going to the party with the cutest boy in our class. And I can say that, because Marcus is his twin,” she added with a grin.

  “Don’t you get it?” Angel asked, her voice rising, anger bubbling in her chest. “I don’t want you fixin’ me up with someone I hardly know. And I can tell Trey doesn’t even want to go with me. He only said yes because he was embarrassed and wanted you to stop asking him in front of everyone!”

  “Don’t worry—it’s all good,” Sharice said in a hurry. “You’re finally goin’ out with a boy, Angel, and it’s about time. I had to do it. I mean, you haven’t even kissed one yet, have you?”

  Angel winced. Not again, she thought. The last thing she wanted to do or talk about was kissing boys. The thought made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

  “I kissed a boy last summer when I was visiting my grandma,” Angel lied quickly. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Sharice stopped walking. “You what? You never told me! What was his name? Was he older? Was he cute?”

  Angel shook her head quickly, realizing her mistake. “It was just a quick kiss at a party at my cousin’s,” she said. “I don’t remember his name or anything.”

  “That ain’t a real kiss,” Sharice huffed. “It doesn’t count if you can’t remember.”

  Angel felt as if she had just been slapped. Sharice must have noticed, because she immediately put her hand on Angel’s shoulder.

  “Look, Angel, don’t worry. I’m gonna do your makeup and help you pick out an outfit at the mall tomorrow and everything. You’re gonna look incredible,” she said with a smile.

  Sharice’s words seemed silly to Angel. She had seen her own reflection in her bedroom mirror this morning. Plain. Confused. Drab. Those words fit. But not incredible. And yet she could feel boys beginning to notice her, especially lately. And then there was Win.

  He was getting ready to ask me to the party before Sharice butted in, Angel remembered.

  Of all the boys in her class, Win was the one boy Angel thought she would actually enjoy going to the party with, but only as a friend. She wondered if he would be okay with that.

  “You know, I think I’d rather go with Win,” Angel confessed. “He was about to ask me when you and Marcus walked over.”

  “Win?!” Sharice recoiled as if she had just smelled something rotten. Then she burst out laughing. “Girl, now I know you’ve lost your mind. You’d have to be crazy to want to go to the party with that boy when you could go with Trey.”

  Angel shrugged. Why did Sharice care so much about who she went with?

  “Seriously, Angel. Get real,” Sharice finally said. “Win is Chinese. You’re black. Plus he has a strange haircut and wears weird clothes.”

  “What difference does any of that make?” Angel asked angrily. “I like Win. He’s smart and funny, and he’s always nice.”

  “Whatever,” Sharice sighed.

  The two walked in silence for a moment before Angel felt Sharice’s hand rest on her shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry if I was pushy about hooking you and Trey up. But you gotta go with him. I promise we’re gonna have a blast. And once Trey sees you all dressed up, he’s gonna wish he got with you a long time ago. You’ll see. Plus, everyone’s gonna be jealous of us going with Trey and Marcus. It’ll be awesome!”

  Just then Angel heard the rumble of a bass beat. A blue sports car full of teenagers slowly passed by. The music throbbed louder as the rear window opened. LaDonna Burns leaned her head out of the car.

  “Hey, Shar!” she shouted. “See you tomorrow morning, girl!”

  Shar? Angel wondered. No one ever called Sharice that.

  “You know it!” Sharice waved back with a grin. She then turned quickly to Angel as if she owed her an explanation. “LaDonna’s gonna meet us tomorrow at the mall. Her cousin’s the manager of Style One!”

  “What?” Angel asked. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. LaDonna says her cousin knows all the best deals and when new stuff’s comin’—”

  “No, I mean about LaDonna meeting us. She doesn’t want to hang with me. Does she even know I’m gonna be there?”

  “It’s only gonna be for a little while. This way we can all go to Style One together,” Sharice replied, gazing at the disappearing car with an almost dreamy look. “LaDonna’s cool with it. She’s cool with everything.”

  Angel sighed. Sharice’s excitement at being friends with LaDonna made her uneasy.

  “Well, I’ll check with my mom and see,” Angel said as they made their way back to her apartment building. “I don’t know how long she’s going to let
me stay at the mall. And I doubt she’s gonna give me money for an outfit for a party she doesn’t even know I’m going to!” And that I don’t even want to go to, Angel thought to herself.

  “It’s all good,” Sharice repeated with a broad smile as she turned up her block. “Everything’s gonna turn out perfect. You’ll see.”

  In her room later that night, after getting Dionne to bed and trying unsuccessfully to talk to Mom, Angel grabbed the secret notebook she had hidden in her mattress. She took a deep breath and reread what she had written yesterday evening:

  I’ll admit it. There IS someone in our class that I would love to go to the party with, but can you imagine? THAT could never happen. Could it? Sharice would freak out. So would everyone else, I’m pretty sure. What would happen if I asked

  Angel felt her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced around the room, making sure her door was shut and that she was completely alone. The pen suddenly felt powerful in her fingers. She inhaled deeply and moved it to where she had left off.

  She felt her fingers tense up and the pen begin to slide, the slick ink forming words before her eyes, words she had never said and could barely admit, though she’d felt them for some time.

  What would happen if I asked . . .

  Justice to go with me?

  What if I like girls more than boys?

  Chapter 4

  “Ten dollars?” Sharice huffed and rolled her eyes. “How are you supposed to buy anything with that?” She and Angel weaved through the crowded mall Saturday afternoon to meet LaDonna at the food court.

  “My mom doesn’t get paid until next week,” Angel lied. The truth was she didn’t ask her mother for a cent. The ten-dollar bill was leftover money from her birthday. She decided not to mention the graduation party to Mom after listening to her talk with Aunt Gwen on the phone early this morning.

  “Charles and that girl are going to be living together barely a block away!” Mom had fumed from behind her closed bedroom door. “I swear, Gwen, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s like the world’s crashing in, and ain’t a thing I can do about it.”

  When Mom finally came out of her room, Angel pretended she didn’t notice Mom’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot and that she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Just thinking about it made Angel shudder.

  “There she is!” Sharice hooted. She tugged Angel over to a table where LaDonna was sitting in snug jeans and a tight T-shirt that hugged her curvy body. She stared at her phone, stabbing at the screen with a quick claw-like finger, and popping gum loudly. Her hair was almost perfectly straight, like a sleek black curtain draped along her face and resting with a healthy sheen on her chest. Angel could tell LaDonna had extensions. From Mom’s work at the salon, she knew it took a lot of time and money to get her hair to look that way. And yet LaDonna acted as if she never worked hard for anything. She seemed bored as they approached, barely looking at Angel, though she did give Sharice a weak smile.

  “Girl, you are lookin’ good,” Sharice said with an approving nod. “I don’t know how you do it!”

  “My cousin hooks me up,” LaDonna explained, popping her gum with a proud smack. “And it’s always good stuff, nothing tired or trashy.” LaDonna eyed Angel’s clothes as she spoke. Already Angel wanted to leave.

  The girls ordered French fries and sodas and grabbed a larger table where they could watch everyone walking by. Right away, LaDonna spotted a few boys she knew from Lincoln High and waved wildly at them. Angel sipped her drink while Sharice and LaDonna chattered about people they knew, rumors they heard, and clothes they wanted. It seemed as if Sharice had forgotten Angel was even there.

  At one point, an older boy in skinny black jeans walked by. He had tinted horn-rimmed glasses and close-cropped hair bleached to an almost gold color, and he wore a T-shirt with words on the front. Free Spirit.

  “Oh my God. Look!” LaDonna leaned toward Sharice and lowered her voice. “It’s Jeremy, the boy I told you about who graduated Lincoln High last year. He’s totally gay. He’s the one everybody called Super Fag.”

  Angel cringed at the ugly words.

  “Is he for real?” Sharice asked as she dipped some fries in a red pool of ketchup. “He’s like something you’d see on TV.”

  As they watched, Jeremy met up with a tall skinny white kid with blond hair and a large Adam’s apple. The two boys hugged briefly.

  “Tell me I’m not seein’ this,” LaDonna added with an exaggerated expression as if she was about to get sick. “Yuck.”

  Angel watched in silence as the two guys exited the food court together. She fidgeted with the napkin container in front of her, remembering what she had written the night before.

  “Eww! You see that, Angel?” Sharice asked, giggling. “I can’t believe it—in public, too!”

  “Whatever,” Angel said, still staring down at the napkin container. “It’s not like they’re hurting anyone.”

  Sharice gave Angel a funny look and then shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s still weird. I’ve got a cousin like that. When my uncle found out about him back in the day, he kicked him out of the house.”

  Angel looked up, shocked. “What? That’s terrible! I mean, how could a parent do that to their own child?”

  “He didn’t want him around his younger brother. I wouldn’t want someone like that around my little brother either. Would you? They hurt kids and stuff,” Sharice said, scanning the crowded food court. “Anyway, who cares? I’m glad it’s not our problem.”

  “But that’s not true,” Angel blurted, shaking her head, her pulse beginning to pound. “I mean, gay people don’t hurt anyone. They’re usually the ones that get hurt—”

  “Why do you sound so upset all of a sudden?” LaDonna cut in, a curious expression on her face.

  “Nothing. It’s just—”

  “How come you aren’t seeing any boys?” LaDonna added, not waiting for an answer. Her eyes glimmered as if she had spotted something valuable. “Maybe you’re like Jeremy . . .”

  A stinging heat rose to Angel’s face. Her cheeks burned with anger. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words were caught in her throat.

  “No, you got it all wrong!” Sharice said quickly, coming to Angel’s rescue. “Angel’s just shy, that’s all. Trust me, I know,” she assured LaDonna. “Plus, she spends totally too much time studying. That’s why she’s makin’ A’s while I’m makin’ C’s!”

  Angel smiled weakly at her friend, but her heart felt as if it were slamming against her ribcage.

  “Anyway, Angel’s going to the party next Friday with Trey,” Sharice added, practically singing his name as she nudged Angel with her elbow. “And you know that boy is fine. Almost as fine as his brother.”

  “What?” LaDonna asked. Her voice rose suddenly. “Trey? How’d that ever happen?”

  “Trey’s been checking out my girl all year,” Sharice explained. “He finally made his move this week!”

  Angel cringed at how fake Sharice’s description was. LaDonna seemed bothered by it, too.

  “That don’t make sense,” she said icily. “I’ve known Trey since third grade, and I ain’t never seen him checking anyone out, especially not Angel.”

  Sharice cleared her throat and glanced nervously at LaDonna, then back at Angel. The food court suddenly felt awkward and tense. Get me outta here! Angel thought to herself.

  “Well, I mean, it’s not like it’s solid yet or anything,” Sharice began. “What I mean is that I think Trey might . . . But maybe not. It’s hard to tell.”

  LaDonna grunted and sipped her drink. Then she grabbed her phone and glared at it as if she were trying to burn a hole through it with her eyes.

  Suddenly, Angel realized why LaDonna was so angry.

  Trey. She had a crush on Trey.

  That’s why she’s hanging out with Sharice, Angel thought as she stared at her soggy fries. She wants Sharice to hook the two of them up. Now I’m in the middle. No wonder she hates me.

 
; Angel wished Sharice had known about LaDonna’s crush before the nonsense with Trey started. Now it was too late.

  Angel could feel LaDonna’s anger radiating across the table like heat from a fire. Angel glanced at her watch and tried to think of an excuse to leave. She had no desire to go to Style One. This whole thing with Trey was ridiculous. But even worse, the way Sharice had talked about gay people made Angel feel uncomfortable and alone.

  What if she knew what I wrote last night? Angel wondered.

  For years, she had heard people use the word gay as an insult or to describe something stupid. But some of these same people were nice otherwise. They had no idea their words were cruel, no idea she had been wrestling with these questions for months. Years maybe. They had always been there, like last night. Like right now.

  The mall seemed to fade as a terrible thought occurred to Angel.

  What would happen if Mom knew?

  Angel had heard her mother refer to gay people as “messed up” now and then. She knew Mom believed it was unnatural for two people of the same sex to be together. Recently, they had watched a news story about gay marriage and Mom had grumbled, “That is just so wrong. That’s not what marriage is. I never thought I’d see something like this become legal.”

  What would Mom do if she found out? Angel wondered. Maybe she’d throw me out like Sharice’s uncle. And then another idea hit her like a hammer. What if Mom never allowed me to see Dionne again? Angel felt as if a sinkhole had opened beneath her, threatening to swallow up everything and everyone she loved. Losing Dionne would be a pain she could not endure, a loss from which she could never recover. Angel shuddered.

  “Hellooo? Earth to Angel!” Sharice’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

  “You comin’ with us, or you just wanna sit here and stare into space?” LaDonna growled. She pulled Sharice ahead as they headed over to Style One, both of them in a deep discussion about hoop earrings.

  Dazed, Angel followed along and found herself in a dimly lit store pounding with dance music. All the women in the store dressed like the ones in Sharice’s magazines. Angel felt strange and out of place.