So Done

by Paula Chase

  The clank of pots and pans and the flow of running water came from the kitchen. Jeremy was asking their dad a million questions.

  JJ looked Mila up and down like he was taking inventory.

  “Dang, Bean, did you even eat at Aunt Jacqs’? You even skinnier than normal,” he said gruffly. It was also a peace offering.

  Mila rubbed her arms, feeling how lean they were but loving the new muscle she felt on them. A long time ago some Captain Obvious had started calling her “Bean,” short for “beanpole.” Like hood nicknames did, it stuck. She promised herself she’d stop calling Jeremy “Nut,” short for “peanut.” She had no idea if it bothered him. It didn’t matter. It bothered her and she was on a mission to get as many people to call her by her real name as she could. Hopefully it would trickle down to everybody, but correcting JJ would only cause another disagreement. She let it slide.

  “We just ate whatever. Aunt Jacqs kept plenty of food in the house, though.”

  “Ouno how you stayed the whole summer,” JJ said with a frown. “It’s too quiet over there for me. The Cove is better.”

  Arguing with JJ was always pointless. After a few minutes he’d start lobbing insults just to have something to say. Mila had seen it get so bad between him and Cinny, their older sister, that it turned into a fight. She and Jeremy usually just walked out of his face.

  Besides, she didn’t know how to explain that she wasn’t into standing up for their hood like it needed soldiers. It was annoying how so many people in the Cove were only about loyalty, repping their spot and dreaming big even if actually getting out of the Cove was only a dream.

  Plus, being a girl in the Cove was different from being a boy. Boys played ball and hung out side by side whether they really liked each other or not. Mila, on the other hand, had spent most of elementary school and her first two years of middle school avoiding the petty beefs that stirred up among the girls in their hood.

  It was tiring having to watch everything you said and worrying if something innocent would turn into a grudge, a push in the hallway, then an all-out brawl.

  She knew JJ would disagree. To him, it was normal to step to somebody if they disrespected you. More than normal, it was practically Cove law.

  Everything wasn’t that simple. But she couldn’t say that. If she did, he’d ask questions that she didn’t want to answer. She might even end up admitting why she’d gone to stay over at their aunt’s in the first place. Or she might finally explode over how stupid it was that being quiet in the Cove got you picked on, talked about, or worse. Her and Jeremy were quiet. It wasn’t because they couldn’t stand up for themselves, it was because quiet was easier than drama.

  She settled for a simple admission. “I loved it over Aunt Jacqs’.”

  “Puh I guess so. Me and Jeremy had to pick up your slack.” He pushed his hand at her, snatching it away as Mila swatted at it. “You can’t be leaving me to be the house mother no more.”

  The term “house mother” was hilarious. JJ was anything but. Still, him reminding Mila that she was expected to play Little Mama to their brother made her hot.

  Seemed like everybody had an opinion about her going to the Woods for the summer. Yet, nobody had ever asked her why she’d been so anxious to go. Not JJ. Not Tai. Even their dad assumed she just needed a break from a house full of males. And she hadn’t let him think anything different. Hadn’t wanted him to. Still, it was like nobody ever thought about what she wanted.

  It weighed on her mind through dinner as her dad lobbed question after question about life with Aunt Jacqs. She found herself faking cheer as the conversation swung between what she did there and JJ’s bizarre list of why none of it could be better than home.

  When dinner was over, Mila escaped to the wonderful silence of her own room. She already missed how her dad’s younger sister would stand in the doorway of Mila’s bedroom with her arms crossed like she was about to be stern while her face beamed. “What you up to, Miss Jamila?” she’d ask. Before Mila could answer she’d keep right on talking, “Come on, let’s go . . .” and then she’d name their activity for the day—try to plant vegetables, hit the nail salon, or take a long walk to the plaza down the street. Whatever the suggestion, Mila never felt like she had a choice in whether she wanted to go or not. But she didn’t mind. Aunt Jacqs always picked fun stuff to do.

  She looked over at her bedroom doorway half expecting Aunt Jacqs to be there. Instead, the voices of her brothers floated from their room sharp and loud.

  “You got crushed, punk,” JJ said.

  “You cheating,” Jeremy said, barely holding back the whine.

  Mila got up and shut her door and sat in the middle of the floor cross-legged.

  It was time for some changes. She couldn’t change the Cove or even JJ, but she could change her room. She mindscaped a few ideas. Take the bunk beds down. Move the desk out. Put cubes for shoes and school supplies where the desk was. Get one of those bouncy trampoline chairs. Ideas raced in and out.

  She stretched out her arms. Her fingers bumped into the frame of her and Cinny’s bunk beds on one side and the clunky wooden desk on the other, making it official—none of her ideas would work. There wasn’t enough space.

  She laid back on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Sometimes when she did that, ideas came together like puzzle pieces. She wasn’t aware she’d closed her eyes until her phone vibrated.

  DatGirlTai: can u come over tomorrow when ur father let u off lockdown?

  Tai had asked her the same question a million times. By now Mila’s fingers could have typed back “sure” or “yeah” without her even thinking about it. But she wouldn’t let them. She held the phone tight until the slim edge bit into the flesh of her fingers. A wave of guilt and fear made her feel dizzy.

  How could she be afraid to go to her own best friend’s house?

  She was a second too late clapping her mind shut against the memories that answered the question. Then immediately a slideshow of the good times they had at Tai’s also played in her head, making her feel worse. When they weren’t at school or dance they were at Tai’s, because at Mila’s there were rules. Rules she got tired of defending against Tai’s rolling eyes and rants of “How come your father won’t let us do this?” and “Why can’t we do that?”

  The other thing was, at Mila’s house either Jeremy was underfoot or JJ was warring with Tai about anything just to have something to say. Mila had finally figured out that JJ was flirting with Tai and Tai was definitely flirting back. It got on Mila’s nerves. Not only did she get tired of them going at each other, fussing, but the thought of her brother and best friend starting a ship was ick.

  At Tai’s, Mila didn’t have to worry about that. Also, hanging there made her feel grown: her and Tai cooking themselves lunch or watching whatever they wanted on the TV, even sneaking to one of the channels Ms. Sophia thought she had locked until Mila panicked and begged Tai to turn it before they got caught.

  Tai’s house was where they had tried on makeup. Where they had locked themselves in the bathroom when Tai found a condom, so they could see what it looked like.

  Then Tai’s father had ruined it.

  At first Mila still tried going over there like everything was good. She laughed at their same old jokes when she really wanted to look over her shoulder and make sure Mr. Bryant wasn’t lurking. When he was home, usually lying on the sofa asleep or watching TV, she scooted up the stairs fast so he wouldn’t notice her. But doing that made her stomach gurgle like she was going to have the runs. That’s why she had asked to stay at Aunt Jacqs’. She couldn’t stand the thought of spending the entire summer making up excuses to avoid going across the street.

  Now what was she supposed to do? If she stopped going to Tai’s, her dad would notice. And if he noticed, he’d—what had Aunt Jacqs called what her dad did? Mind art. He’d paint his own picture of what people were thinking. And he usually got what they were thinking right.

  Goose bumps raised on
her arms. Her dad did it all the time to her and her siblings. And Mila could do it a little, too. She’d just never put a name to it until her aunt did.

  If her dad ever connected Mr. Bryant with her wanting to go away over the summer, it wouldn’t be good. Not at all. Still, she had no intentions of going to Tai’s house. Not yet. She had things to think through.

  She texted back, fingers trembling so much she had to retype the short message twice before it was right.

  doubt it. Been gone all summer, have chores

  Keeping the house clean was definitely one of her dad’s many rules. So the text could have been true. She laid the phone down with a clunk, like telling the lie made it too heavy to hold.

  She’d so be in trouble if Tai ever became a mind artist.

  Chapter

  3

  Tai called for Bean three times. The only answer was the blaring of the TV. She pressed her face against the door’s screen, trying to see inside. “Where everybody at? Helloooo?”

  “Girl, stop hollering up in my house,” JJ commanded, mouth full of sandwich. He emerged from the kitchen shirtless and sat down on the sofa without inviting Tai in.

  “You so ignorant, JJ. Like you can’t even just say come in?” Her eyes lingered on his bare chest before straining to peer up the dim stairwell. “Bean ready?”

  “How I’m supposed to know?” he asked, turning the TV up.

  If Mr. Jamal were home, the TV wouldn’t be so loud. Tai burst through the front door. Hands on her hips, she shook her head at JJ, pretending to be more disgusted than she was. With his light brown eyes and dimpled cheeks, he was fine. There was a time when she’d imagined being his girlfriend. What could be more perfect than dating the boy across the street and her best friend’s brother?

  She’d caught him staring at her butt a few times. So she knew he thought she was cute. But sometimes JJ was so mean to her, Tai wondered if she could be wrong about some of his sly glances. She always made sure to diss him as hard as he did her just in case their light beefing was real.

  “You a trip,” she muttered.

  A loud gasp and the patter of Bean racing down the steps cut her off from laying him out more.

  “Oh my God, Tai, it’s even cuter in person.” Mila’s fingers ran over the shaved area of Tai’s head. “No bun for you.”

  The side that was still long flowed past Tai’s ear in black waves. The short side was shaved to a down softness, the top layered in tight barrels that curlicued at the ends, disobeying the rigid rows.

  “Noelle probably gonna be annoyed, huh?” Tai snorted. The new hairstyle would be one more thing that made her stand out, in a bad way, in dance class. It wasn’t like she was ever going to be a real ballerina. But their dance teacher kept trying. She was constantly on Tai for everything from her arms being in the wrong place to her not wearing the right clothes—black leotard and pink tights for ballet, any colored leotard and nude tights for jazz.

  Whatever.

  Bean fluffed the long part, trying to solve the issue aloud. “You might be able to make some kind of lopsided pony.”

  “Hmph. It’s not like I run around getting my hair styled to please her,” Tai said, annoyed out of habit. She folded her arms, eyes rolling. “Noelle just need take a sip of get over it.”

  Bean gave her much side eye, then laughed. “You gon’ tell her that next class?”

  Tai couldn’t help laughing. Bean knew she was all talk. For as much as Tai hated ballet, she craved Noelle’s praise. She never did much to earn it and it killed her that she even cared, but she did a little.

  “I’m going out for a while,” Mila hollered over the TV. “Don’t leave Jeremy by his self.”

  JJ made a face at her but nodded just the same.

  “Why the cute ones always gotta be ignorant?” Tai asked, loud, smiling JJ’s way as they walked out.

  “One day JJ really gonna hurt your feelings if you keep coming for him,” Mila said as they stepped into the late summer heat.

  “Ain’t nobody scared of your brother, girl.” Tai flicked a look back on the house. “Besides, we just playing anyway. JJ cool with me.”

  As they walked the hood, Tai was determined to fill Bean in on everything that had happened. Every step they took deeper into the Cove together made her heart beat with pride. How could Bean think the boring burbs was better?

  Pirates Cove was one of four low-income projects in Del Rio Bay. It was a jungle of twenty building units erupting from tar-black streets. Each unit had ten two-level attached row homes: narrow, tall, and identical except for their different-colored doors. It was home to more than seven hundred people, some Latino, but most Black, all of them poor by Del Rio Bay standards.

  Just like the name suggested, the neighborhood was an inlet, well hidden from the nicer parts of the city. People could drive past its long tree-lined entrance and never know a neighborhood humming with activity lay beyond it.

  Cove life centered around the row house stoop, the rec center, and the basketball courts. And if you needed quick groceries or a bite to eat, the Wa was a short walk through a wooded path, along with a laundry mat, an L-store, and a nail salon. As far as Tai was concerned, the hood had everything she needed, especially now that Bean was back.

  Music thumped out of open windows and from cars being washed. People sat on their front stoops, on the phone or catching the midday sun. Kids on scooters and bikes or running raced past, heading toward center court, the heart of the hood where the playground, basketball court, and rec center beckoned. Tai filled her lungs with the energy.

  They passed a slender dude, wearing a baby blue wave cap, leaning against a light pole—Rock Jensen. He looked bored, like he was debating whether to hold the pole up or move along. A silver Acura slow crept up to him. He nodded at them like he was saying hey. The Acura slowly wheeled a block away and stopped. Tai knew that in a second a boy, her age or younger, would roll up to the car window and slide the driver a package, then slink off to wait for the signal again.

  Rock was the only dealer determined not to be intimidated by Mr. Jamal and his keep-drugs-out-of-our-hood attitude. It didn’t matter how many times Bean’s father appealed to his neighbors to turn in anybody they saw selling drugs in the neighborhood, Rock found ways to disrespect his attempts to keep the Cove clean.

  Bean was scared of Rock. So Tai chattered on and sped up to get past him. Of course, to make sure they saw him, Rock smiled and swiped two fingers against his forehead in a salute. Bean’s long legs sped up another notch.

  When Tai glanced back, Rock was on his phone, no longer looking their way. She made light of it by patting her chest in dramatic relief. “Oh, whew. So the Woods didn’t totally change you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mila asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “I see you still scared of Rock. So you still the same old Bean.” She laughed to ease Bean’s mind. She didn’t need her friend finding more reasons to hate on their hood.

  Bean shrugged, playing along. “Rock is crazy. So you’re the one a little off for not being scared of him.”

  “You know I’m lo-co,” Tai called out, jiggling her head.

  They laughed at the inside joke. The warmth of the moment made Tai want to hug herself. It was good to be walking with Bean instead of by herself. She was about to admit it when Bean said, “Tai, look . . . can you please stop calling me ‘Bean’?”

  Tai stopped in her tracks. “We been calling you that for years. I mean, it’s your name.”

  “No, it’s my nickname.” Mila frowned. “And I walk around in this body every day. I don’t need everybody reminding me how skinny I am.”

  “You act like you hate it,” Tai said, eyebrow raised.

  “I do,” Bean said. Her hand wandered to her hair and twirled a random braid. A habit she had when she was nervous or scared. Tai figured it meant Bean was going to back down, but she didn’t. “Plus we’re thirteen years old. We’re too old for nicknames like that.”


  Tai cut her eyes. “You mean you are. Everybody don’t have a problem with it.”

  Mila sucked her teeth. “You mean like Simp. You really think he likes being called that?”

  Tai couldn’t believe they were seriously talking about this. Who cared about Simp? He was their age but still in sixth grade. A fact that didn’t seem to embarrass him at all. Tai wasn’t sure he could be embarrassed. God knew she tried every chance she got and the boy wasn’t fazed.

  His real name was Deontae. He had a massive head full of dreads and his hairline came down too far, like somebody had taped it too close to his eyebrows. All that hair—eyebrows and hairline together—made it seem like he was always squinting, trying to figure things out. And it made him look like he wasn’t real bright.

  Simp didn’t help himself, either. He blurted out whatever, like he didn’t know better what thoughts to keep to himself. It made people come right back at him when he said something they didn’t like. Tai was about to point that out when Bean snorted.

  “Tai come on. ‘Simp’ is short for ‘simple.’ He probably hates it but you know him . . . he just rolls with it.”

  “And he too simple to know better,” Tai said. She threw her hands up. “And that’s the point. Nicknames be fitting people. You are who you are, Bean.”

  “Okay,” Mila said, and Tai thought she was ready to give in until she folded her arms and said, “So you would be cool if everybody called you Chinky because of your eyes?”

  “Well, that would be ignorant and racist,” Tai said with a hollow attempt at laughing. She really didn’t want to argue, so she made fun of herself. “I wouldn’t like it but you act like people don’t say that behind my back.” She play-whispered, “Yeah, you know Tai . . . that girl with the chinky eyes.”