by Seven Steps
“Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean I should be miserable too! Control your own life and stop trying to control mine!”
And with those final, biting words, I ran into my room and flung myself on my bed, sobbing in my pillow.
This was no longer a home.
This was a prison with a single prisoner.
Me.
55
My life was a roller coaster and right now, we were on the big drop.
The second I left my room the next morning, my mom was there, dressed in jeans, a cherry red sweater, and a pair of red slip in shoes. She wore a scarf and a hat, but no coat.
Where was she going?
“Good morning,” she said cheerily. Her eyes still looked cloudy and dazed, but her face was less red than yesterday. “I thought I’d drop you off at school this morning.”
I shook my head. “Mom, no.”
“Yes. We can have some mother daughter time and you wouldn’t have to ride that filthy train alone.”
“I’ve been taking the train with my friends for three years.”
Her brows rose. “Triton Swimworthy allows his daughter to ride the subway? I wouldn’t think she’d ride in anything less than a golden limousine.”
I sighed in aggravation and kept walking toward the door.
“Where are you going? I made tea and eggs.”
“I get tea in the train station.”
“Not homemade tea.”
“I’m going to be late.”
“I said I’d drive you.”
“Mom, I don’t need you to drive me to school. No one has driven me to school since freshman year.”
“I thought that—”
“That’s the problem. You’re going off on all these crazy whims. You erased yourself from my life for four years. You can’t just jump in. It doesn’t work that way.”
She crossed her arms and bit her lower lip. For a split second I thought I’d gotten through to her.
But she simply said, “Fine. Then let me at least walk you down to the lobby.”
I growled.
How could a woman who’d run an entire hospital be such a horrible listener?
It’s like I was speaking German or something.
I pulled the door open, not waiting for her to keep up.
“Jasmine, you forgot your tea,” she said, scurrying after me.
“I’ll drink it later.”
“You can’t just drink tea later.”
We stepped into the hallway and I jammed on the buttons. I was being escorted to school like a child and I wanted to throat punch someone. How could one person go from absent to overbearing in less than twenty-four hours? It was insane.
“Maybe I can pick you up from school instead,” she said.
“No, thanks, Mom.”
“I’ll be there at two-thirty.”
“I don’t leave school until five.”
“Five? Why so late?”
“Because I’m painting the school mural.”
“Painting? Jasmine, I told you we were past that. We’re refocusing, remember?”
“I can’t get out of it. I won first place at the school’s art show and this was the prize.”
She was silent for a moment. “Well, I’ll talk to the principal and see what I can do. We really have to get your grades up.”
“My grades are up.”
“We’ll see about that when I talk to your teachers today.”
I turned to her, my temper at its absolute limit.
“This mural is important to me. More important than all the pictures you destroyed, more important than everything you erased off my phone, more important than whatever kick it is that you’re on right now. It means everything. Please. Just. Don’t.”
She smoothed a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Refocus,” she said. “That’s what we’re doing. Refocusing.”
The elevator door opened and I walked out, slightly dazed. My mother was destroying my life, piece by piece. First my phone. Then my canvases. And now she was trying to take away my mural too.
I had to find a way to get through to her. To tell her how she was destroying me. But it’d been four years since I’d had any sort of meaningful conversations with her, and I had no idea where to start.
My friends stood in the lobby, with one extra body.
Ollie.
I zeroed in on him like a homing beacon. My body wanted to run and jump into his arms and kiss him like I had yesterday. But, my friends were here and my mom was walking behind me like she was holding the train of a wedding dress. So, I kept my composure, while Ollie looked at me with a curious expression.
“Good morning, girls,” Mom said, like she was a greeter at a theme park.
“Good morning, Mrs. Patel,” they replied.
“Good morning, Mrs. Patel,” Ollie said, well, after Bella and Ariel said their greeting. He delivered a gracious bow. “Oliver Santiago.”
His dazzling smile was only matched by her deep frown.
“So you are the infamous Ollie,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say infamous—”
“Yes. Infamous is the perfect word for it. Mr. Santiago, my daughter is not allowed to date.”
The air left my lungs. My mother was a complete and utter embarrassment.
“That means no calling. No texting. And no chats online.”
Ollie grimaced. “Mrs. Patel, Prin—uh, Jasmine and I are lab partners. We also have a very important art project due on Friday and the principal has us working together to paint the school’s new mural. We can’t do that if we don’t communicate.”
Mom sneered at him. “I’ve seen your kind before, Ollie. And my daughter will not be one of your conquests just to use and throw away.”
“Mom!” I screamed. “That is enough!”
Ollie’s face turned rock-hard. He stood up to his full height, clasped his hands behind his back, and said in such a clipped, frosty tone that I flinched.
“Mrs. Patel. What you are stating are pure insinuations. You do not know me, my background, or my family. If there are things you want to know about me, then you are more than welcome to ask. But I urge you to investigate your facts thoroughly before hurling them at innocent parties in a public forum such as this.” He bowed to her, then stood again. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Then, he turned on his heels and left.
What. Just. Happened.
My mom stood shell-shocked, watching Ollie’s retreating form.
Where did that just come from?
“Um…” Bella said. “We’d better… uh… bye, Mrs. Patel.”
Then, we all trotted after Ollie, who’d just given my mom a tongue lashing in the politest way possible.
I didn’t even know that could be done.
He sounded like one of the dukes in the romance novels I read at night.
“Ollie, where did that come from?” I asked, breathless from jogging after him.
“Sorry.” His straight back and regal air slowly melted off him, revealing the boy I’d come to care about over these past few weeks. “Sometimes my father just shows up. I hate sounding like that, but your mom is—”
“Mean. I know. She’s trying to get me kicked off the mural too.”
“What?” Ariel asked. “She can’t do that.”
“That’s what I said. But I think she’s going to try.”
“Why is she acting like this now?” Bella asked. “She was fine before.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. She’s going through some hard times, I guess.”
Bella frowned. “Did you talk to your dad about it?”
“No. He’s been busy.”
I didn’t want to tell my friends that my father had moved out. Or that my parents were getting divorced.
It was embarrassing. They each came from single parent families, but that was because their moms were dead. My parents just couldn’t keep it together. They’d failed. And I didn’t want to admit that to
my friends just yet.
We jogged down the subway station steps and ordered our usual tea and coffee before boarding the train. The three of us sat, while Ollie held on to one of the overhead railings.
“So, are you going to be J’s official escort to school now?” Ariel asked.
Ollie smiled. “As long as she’ll have me.”
“Oohh. A gentleman. I like that.”
Ollie’s smiling face turned to me, and I smiled back at him. It felt like air had filled my insides, making me light as a balloon.
Ariel and Bella peppered Ollie with questions, which he vaguely answered.
“What do you do for fun?”
“Paint. Draw. Stuff like that.”
“Where are you from?”
“Out of the country.”
“What do your parents do?”
“Business.”
“Have any brothers or sisters?”
“Just one.”
I could tell they weren’t liking his non-specific answers.
Why didn’t he tell them he was from Iyaria? Was it a secret? If it was, why?
We climbed out of the train station, and Ollie took my hand. His warm skin immediately dissolved my questions. We received a few odd looks when we walked in the school, but I didn’t care. I had my friends around me and Ollie by my side. I felt untouchable.
Sophia, Purity, Cole, and Eric were all gathered around my locker when we arrived.
“Look at you two,” Sophia said. “Don’t you look cozy.”
I gripped Ollie’s hand harder, partially because I liked to hold his hand, and partially because I was nervous. He’d sat in Bella’s living room and spoken to them before, but coming to my locker and standing in the center of us felt like a big deal.
Cole was the first one to speak up.
“So, the infamous Ollie Santiago had decided to join our rag-tag crew,” he said.
“You know, you’re the second person to call me that today,” Ollie said.
“If two people call you infamous in one day, they’re probably right,” Cole replied.
“Are you two official now?” Sophia asked.
“Yes,” we said at the same time. Then we chuckled.
A second later, we were engulfed in my friends’ hugs and screams of joy.
My nerves went away.
Whenever I thought my friends would disappoint me, they didn’t. They always exceeded my expectations. Why did I have such a hard time being open and honest with them?
The overhead bell rang, sending my friends scattering. I opened my locker, took out my books, and shoved my bag inside.
“I’ll take those,” Ollie said, lifting my books from my arms.
I raised a teasing eyebrow at him. “You carry books now?”
“Well, if I’m going to be walking you to class, I might as well be useful.”
I grinned. “My knight in shining armor.”
Ollie shrugged. “Eh. I’ve been called worse.”
56
Ollie held my hand under the table, while Cole, Sophia, and Bella argued with each other over what they should sing for the Battle of the Bands.
It felt odd, having his hand in mine in such a public place. It felt like people were watching us, but when I looked, no one seemed to be paying attention.
“We are not singing Drake for Battle of the Bands,” Cole argued. “We have to sing, not rap.”
“Drake is hot right now,” Sophia said. “I’m going for crowd interaction.”
“I second Drake,” Eric said.
“Shouldn’t you be going for more of an epic sound?” I asked.
“Ooh, I like epic,” Bella said. “Maybe…” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe Queen. We can kill some ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.”
Cole whistled. “It’s in four days, babe. I’m not sure we can pull off Queen in four days.”
“Why not? We sing Queen all the time together.”
“Yeah, you and me, when we’re playing around. Not with Sophia.”
“Queen’s old,” Sophia said. “I want to do something contemporary.”
“Like Drake.” Eric cried.
“We’re not doing Drake,” Cole argued.
“What about something classic?” Ollie said. “Like George Michael.”
Sophia scoffed. “Definitely not.”
I turned to him. “You’re a George Michael fan?”
He shrugged. “Of course. I’m European.”
“Aerosmith?”
“Ariana Grande.”
“Beyoncé.”
“Madonna.”
“Michael Jackson.”
The names flew hard and fast across the table until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay. Let’s narrow it down. What do you guys want to sing?”
“Something with great vocals,” Bella said.
“But modern and upbeat,” Sophia said.
“And with some rock flair,” Cole added.
“And it has to be epic,” Sophia said.
I sat back and thought a minute. Then I smiled.
“I might just have the perfect song.” I leaned forward, locking eyes with my three friends. “But you have to promise me one thing.”
“What?” Sophia asked.
“You have to promise me you are going to be amazing.”
57
Ollie and I stayed attached at the hip most of the day. We held hands in the hallway and shared brief kisses between classes. It felt like the world had finally started to turn in the right direction for me. Ollie made me happy and, from the way he grinned at me, I think I made him happy too.
We’d even completed the second wall and outlined the third before the temptation was too much and we threw ourselves at each other again.
Now I understood why Bella and Ariel were so ready to disappear with Cole and Eric at a moment’s notice. When Ollie touched me, it felt like electricity was flowing through me. It felt like I’d found a part of me I didn’t even know was missing.
After we finished the mural for the day, we went back to the warehouse and hung out until Jean, Jeff, and Able showed up. Their faces were undeniably grim.
After the assembly, there was talk about stopping the tags altogether and disbanding the RATZ. No agreement had been made yet, but I could tell it was weighing on everyone’s mind. Of course, the last decision would be Ollie’s, and I had no idea what he would say.
Jean and Able leaned against the table, while Jeff sat in the computer chair, and Ollie stood with his hand in mine.
“Are we tagging tonight?” Jean asked.
Ollie shook his head. “No. Not tonight.”
“Now what?” Jean asked. “We’re just going to hide out here and not tag anymore?”
“The cops have been crawling around this city like roaches,” Jeff said. “The commissioner wasn’t playing with the expanded police force. And who knows what they’ve already caught on the cameras.”
“You think they got us on camera?” Able asked.
Jeff shrugged. “Maybe. You have to admit we aren’t the ones whose faces need to be splashed all over television right now.”
“If they had our pictures they would have arrested us already,” Ollie said. “They wouldn’t wait this long.”
“Who knows,” Jean said. “Who knows anything.”
She put her hands on her hips, dropped her head, and sighed.
“Look, nothing has changed,” Ollie said. “So we stop tagging for a while. It’s cold as balls outside anyway. And it will give us more time to work on our virtual tag.”
“We’re still doing that?” Jeff asked. “Even with everything that’s happened?”
“Yes, we’re still doing that. We’ve worked hard on this. Have you forgotten they don’t even consider what we do art? They are blocking us from having a seat at the table. We have no other recourse but to build a table of our own.”
The air in the room was a solemn and quiet.
“Finish your parts of the pic
ture,” Ollie said. “And make a space for the Princess. She’s one of us now. She deserves to be represented in our pièce de résistance.” His eyes landed on me, and I swear my entire spine shivered. “In the meantime, you and I have an art lesson.”
58
It was five in the morning when I got a text from Ollie.
Ollie: Jean got busted last night.
My heart sank.
Jean was in jail? Was she okay?
I jumped out of the bed, standing in the middle of my room, texting furiously.
Me: Is she okay?
It seemed like hours before I got a reply.
Ollie: She’s okay.
Me: Do you need bail money?
I didn’t have a million dollars in my account, but I could pull together a few thousand in a pinch if I had to.
Ollie: She’s home now. I’ll tell you more at school.
I closed out of the text messages and navigated to my news app. I scanned the local news, but there was nothing about a local graffiti artist getting busted. Wouldn’t this be something the news would want to cover? After all, the police commissioner said this was a high visibility task force, meaning that part of the deterrent was that they’d broadcast every arrest. Maybe they didn’t publish anything because Jean was a minor? Maybe her records were sealed?
I ran into the shower and hurriedly jumped out again. In a half an hour I was already on my way to school. I texted Ariel and Bella that I’d left early, jumped in my car, and headed out.
I needed to talk to the RATZ as soon as humanly possible.
“Are you sure she’s okay?” I asked.
I stood just outside of art class next to Ollie, hands on my hips, my head tipped to the side in concern.
“She’s fine,” Ollie said.
“But what happened to her? How did she get busted?”
“She went out tagging on her own and got caught. She must’ve been angry because I said we would stay in for a while.” He shook his head. “When you go out tagging alone, you run a greater risk. There’s no one to watch your back. Now she has a record. This could bring down all kinds of heat on us. We’ll have to be even more careful.”