The Black Flamingo

by Dean Atta

the correct uniform but makes it look scruffy.

  I whisper to Daisy: “Do you fancy anyone

  in the school?”

  She replies, “No.” Pauses. “Do you?”

  I smile and shake my head. I’m not ready

  to tell her. Rowan turns around and

  smiles at me. Did he hear my whisper?

  After school, when I get on the bus,

  I spot Daisy sitting toward the back,

  her Doc Marten boots up on the seat

  in front. Even though we’re the same

  age, Daisy seems older than twelve.

  “Hey, Daisy,” I say softly,

  “do you reckon I can sit next to you?”

  She moves her bag from the seat next to her

  onto her lap.

  “Yeah,” she replies, “but I’m reading

  so just don’t talk to me.”

  She gets back to The Curious Incident

  of the Dog in the Night-Time.

  I sit in silence next to Daisy.

  Laughter and chatter rattle around

  the rest of the bus but I feel a strange

  sort of safety in this silence with Daisy.

  Daisy continues reading her book

  and I am reading her. Can I trust her?

  “Bye, Daisy. See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.”

  The next day, as the bell goes

  at the end of history class, I ask Daisy,

  “Wanna get lunch together?”

  I feel like she needs the company

  as much as me.

  “Do you have a packed lunch?” asks Daisy.

  “No.” I pause. “I get free school meals.”

  “Well,” she says, “you can sit with me after

  you’ve eaten. I’ll be in B24. Bring a book.”

  I don’t have a book but I think I might have

  a new friend. I’m finishing my lunch, wolfing it

  down extra quickly in the cafeteria. I need to

  go to the library and pick up a book before I

  go to B24 to meet Daisy.

  But then some girls join me. Two in front

  and one next to me. The girl next to me

  wears glasses, her blonde hair in a ponytail.

  “Hey, I’m Grace,” says the blonde,

  then points. “This is Faith and Destiny.”

  Faith and Destiny smile and Faith says, “Hey.

  You’re the new boy, Michael, right?”

  They both have their hair tied back as well.

  Destiny is black and her hair is straightened.

  Faith looks mixed like me; her hair is slicked

  down to the scrunchy she wears, and then it puffs out at

  the back like a halo.

  I can’t tell if it’s just because I’ve eaten

  my lunch too quickly or if I’m feeling

  something like dread. I decide to swallow

  that feeling. “That’s me,” I say, finishing up

  my sponge cake. “Nice to meet you.”

  Grace asks, “So why are you new?

  Why did you leave your last school?”

  I pause, remembering it. “I had a fight.”

  Destiny: “Oh-em-gee! Were you expelled?”

  Faith: “Are you a bad boy, Michael?”

  Grace: “Don’t be shy, Michael, tell us.”

  I lie. “I was just defending this boy,

  Alistair, who was being picked on

  by these two older boys for being in the choir.

  I don’t know what came over me,

  I just went into this rage. I broke

  one of their noses and gave the other

  one a black eye and even though

  I was the good guy, I still got expelled.”

  “That’s so unfair,” says Faith.

  “Sooo unfair,” repeats Destiny.

  In science, Daisy’s silence feels different.

  “I waited for you in B24,” she mutters.

  I feel myself getting hot. “I’m so sorry.

  I totally forgot.”

  Daisy turns away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I feel like I need to say

  something

  to make her talk to me.

  “I didn’t forget.

  I mean, I got distracted.

  These girls

  started speaking to me

  in the cafeteria.

  Grace, Faith, and Destiny.

  Do you know them?”

  “Yeah,” replies Daisy. “They’re mean.”

  “Oh, really? They seem really cool.”

  “Figures. They’re only nice to boys.”

  For the rest of my first week,

  I eat in the cafeteria with Grace,

  Faith, and Destiny for half of lunch break.

  They’re in my year but different classes.

  They gossip about other girls

  and crush over boys. I laugh

  when I think Grace wants a laugh,

  or add a third echo in agreement with

  whatever is being agreed upon.

  I don’t really listen to what they say.

  For the second half of lunch break,

  I go to B24 and sit next to Daisy

  and read in silence.

  Daisy finishes The Curious Incident

  and begins The Fault in Our Stars.

  I read one book, The Complete Collected

  Poems of Maya Angelou, for the whole week

  and the following week, too.

  Taking my time.

  Maya Angelou has written autobiographies;

  Mum has them all but when I try to read

  them I get jumbled up and lose my place.

  When I read her poems I always know where

  I am. This poem. This page.

  I’m inspired by Maya Angelou,

  so I try to write my first poem

  in the back of my math book:

  Maya Angelou

  Maya Angelou’s words

  are so clear. She writes about love

  and standing up for yourself

  in the face of inequality.

  Even though

  she’s American,

  her words speak to me.

  Her poetry is everything

  I hope mine could be

  one day, for somebody.

  Even if

  that somebody is me.

  After school, I go to watch a fight

  with Grace, Faith, and Destiny.

  They push to the front

  and when we get there we see Kieran

  from our year land a knockout right hook

  to a boy from another school. Kieran is known

  for fighting and soccer.

  He makes me nervous. He makes me think

  of my previous school.

  His rival falls to the ground.

  Everyone watching from our school

  begins to chant, “Kieran! Kieran! Kieran!”

  This fight has nothing to do with me

  but my

  breathing

  gets

  funny.

  “Kieran is so hot. Don’t you think?” asks Grace.

  I gulp for air.

  “Oh my gosh, Grace. Shut up!” says Destiny.

  “I’m not asking you,” says Grace.

  “I’m asking Michael. Do you think

  Kieran is hot, Michael?”

  I wonder, Is Kieran hot or is he frightening?

  Kieran is tall and black,

  he has short hair with a fade.

  He looks our way, he smiles and waves.

  “I suppose,” I manage to say breathlessly.

  Faith giggles.

  “Oh-em-gee! Yuck!” says Destiny.

  “Are you gay?” asks Grace.

  There goes my breath again.

  “You know that it’s a sin?” says Faith.

  Yes, I know. But I say nothing.

  I skip lunch the following d
ay

  and go straight to B24 to sit with Daisy. Relief

  washes over me.

  “I don’t know what to say, Michael. I already

  told you they were mean.”

  “I know you did. I should have listened.

  I’m sorry,” I say.

  “That’s okay. Anyway, are you gay?”

  “Yes,” I say. Finally, we’re gonna talk about it.

  “Cool,” she says, and goes back to her book.

  I thought she would ask me

  how I knew and I could tell her

  about my crush on Rowan.

  “Wanna come to my house for dinner?” I ask.

  “My mum’s making shepherd’s pie.”

  “Okay,” says Daisy. She doesn’t look up

  but I notice a small smile forming on her lips.

  “Can I read my book now?”

  At the bus stop after school,

  Grace confronts Daisy and me.

  Faith and Destiny stand behind her

  with their arms crossed, scowling.

  “Queerdo and weirdo. Why are you always

  together? Are you two girlfriends or

  boyfriends?”

  “Neither, not that it would be any of your

  business,” I reply.

  Daisy stares Grace down, like Goddess Barbie

  would, unblinking.

  “So are you both gay?” asks Grace, sneering.

  “We’re not judging you.”

  “Only God can judge you,” says Destiny.

  “Yeah, only God,” repeats Faith, with a wink.

  “Do you three share one brain?” asks Daisy

  as she pushes past them and gets on the bus.

  “Go with your boyfriend,” Grace says to me.

  When I get on the bus,

  Daisy has already put her bag on the seat

  next to her.

  I laugh. “I’m having déjà vu, Daisy! Move

  the bag so I can sit down.”

  “Just leave me alone, Michael.”

  I stand over her, not moving. “It’s not my fault.”

  “You hardly defended me, did you?”

  “You can clearly defend yourself, Daisy.

  What did you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know. Something. Anything.

  Not just stand there and take abuse.”

  “I said it was none of their business, didn’t I?”

  I look at her pleadingly.

  The bus jolts forward; I grab the railing.

  Daisy moves her bag, so I can sit down.

  After a few stops in silence, I ask,

  “Are you still coming to mine for dinner?”

  “Of course I am, queerdo,” says Daisy.

  “Shut up, weirdo.” I laugh and put my arm

  around her and kiss her on the cheek.

  “Daisy, are you Greek?” asks Mum,

  while serving up the shepherd’s pie.

  Daisy laughs. “I usually get asked

  if I’m Spanish.”

  Mum starts with her own version

  of the Spanish Inquisition: “Are you Spanish?”

  “No. My dad is English,” says Daisy,

  “and my mum is half English, half Jamaican.”

  I remember Mum’s speech about halves.

  We never talked about quarters, but isn’t that

  what Daisy is?

  “Michael’s and Anna’s dads are Jamaican.

  I’m Greek Cypriot,” Mum says, proudly.

  “You look like you could be my daughter.”

  “Mummy,” says Anna, who has already started

  eating, “this tastes funny.”

  “It’s soy beef,” says Mum. “I wanted to see

  if you could tell the difference.”

  Up in my room, after dinner,

  I show Daisy the copy of Cosmopolitan

  magazine I stole from Mum’s room,

  with Adam Levine on the cover.

  “He’s so sexy, right?” I say to Daisy.

  Bob Marley and Beyoncé watch over us

  from my bedroom wall.

  Excited to be breaking my silence,

  I continue: “I’ve got the biggest crush

  on Rowan at school. He’s not sexy

  like Adam Levine but he’s really cute,

  and he’s a bit random, like in drama

  he really goes for it with different accents

  and he’s not shy to play girl characters

  and then in math he puts his hand up

  and he always gets the answers right.

  How can he be so talented and so clever?”

  Daisy laughs as she examines the magazine,

  then says, “I’m not sure about Rowan

  but yes to Adam Levine.”

  Daisy starts coming round for dinner

  at least two or three times a week.

  She never invites me to her house;

  she refers to it as “the War Zone.”

  She tells me, “You’re lucky

  to have one parent. Two is a nightmare.”

  She helps me and Anna with homework.

  Mum calls Daisy her daughter

  but as Daisy’s breasts get bigger,

  I find myself staring at them

  when we sit in my bedroom

  or even at school in B24.

  I think about kissing her.

  I know it would be wrong

  to just kiss her.

  I could just ask her.

  Daisy, can I kiss you?

  But I never do.

  In the back of my math book I write:

  Divided by Love

  Math is the hardest class to focus in;

  I have Daisy sitting next to me

  and Rowan at the desk in front.

  Rowan is so cute and Daisy is

  equally so. I feel divided. I wish I could

  just have a normal day at school.

  In the back of my math book I write:

  How Gay Am I?

  How gay am I? I wonder.

  I know if I could choose

  I would be with Rowan

  but he’s a mystery to me.

  It’s so easy with Daisy.

  She’s my best friend.

  She’s part of my family.

  She’s like a part of me.

  At the start of the next math class,

  when Mrs. Briggs gives out our books,

  she puts three on our table: Daisy’s, mine,

  and another new book in front of me.

  I open it up and I see a pink Post-it note:

  “FOR YOUR POETRY.”

  It has lined rather than graph paper.

  I close it quickly, hoping Daisy didn’t see.

  I feel so embarrassed Mrs. Briggs has

  read what I wrote about Daisy and Rowan.

  Carefully, I rip out the poetry pages from

  the back of my math book and slip them

  inside this new book. My POETRY book.

  Daisy is off sick today

  with period pains

  and in drama class Rowan asks

  to be my partner.

  In our pairs, we all find a space

  of our own in the drama studio.

  We’ve been told to play a game

  called, “Yes, And!”

  Whatever your partner says,

  you’re supposed to agree and add something.

  I say to Rowan: “We’re going to the beach.”

  Rowan says, “Yes, and it’s a nudist beach,

  so we have to get naked.” He takes off his tie

  and swings it at crotch level.

  I laugh, and take off my tie, and swing it, too.

  I say: “Yes, and let’s get in the water now.”

  He says: “Yes, and let’s swim to that island,

  over there.”

  Rowan points,

  and we swim past our classmates

  all playing in their pairs<
br />
  until we reach the corner of the drama studio

  where the ceiling-to-floor-length black curtains

  gather.

  I say: “Yes, and we’ve arrived on the island.”

  He says: “Yes, and it’s nighttime now.”

  He goes behind the curtains.

  I follow.

  I say: “Yes, and it’s only the two of us here.”

  He says: “Yes, and . . .”

  He steps closer, says again: “Yes, and . . .”

  The bell goes for the end of class.

  MICHAEL: Daisy!! Guess what!!

  DAISY: What?

  MICHAEL: Rowan almost kissed me!

  DAISY: Almost?? How??

  MICHAEL: In drama class but the bell went

  DAISY: It doesn’t count if it’s in drama class

  MICHAEL: Why not?

  DAISY: He’s just a show-off.

  He loves attention

  MICHAEL: And I love him!

  DAISY:

  I’m in my bathroom, getting ready

  for the school dance, when I notice

  the first hairs above my top lip. I decide

  to use Mum’s razor from the side

  of the bathtub. I know she uses it for her legs—

  there are little dark hairs on it—

  but a razor is a razor. I make

  my first attempt at shaving. Moments later,

  I have a symmetrical mustache

  of blood from where I managed

  to cut myself evenly on both sides.

  When Daisy arrives in a glittery red dress,

  I’m wearing nothing but my black boxer shorts,

  sulking on my bed.

  I wonder how that dress would look on me?

  I think for a moment, before remembering

  I’m feeling sorry for myself.

  “Maybe we can put some concealer on it,”

  says Daisy, reaching into her bag. Daisy has

  started wearing makeup, but not too much.

  She looks much older than fourteen.

  I barely look twelve.

  “No way,” I say,

  “I’m not wearing makeup! I’d rather miss

  the stupid dance.”

  “That’s a shame,” says Daisy.

  “You might have had a dance, maybe even

  a kiss with Rowan.”

  Daisy lifts up the duvet

  and we both slide in.

  We spend the evening

  watching prom movies

  with happy endings.