by Seven Steps
My chest burned. There were so many things left unsaid between us. So many things we had to work out.
But as our hands clasped together, I realized I was willing to put in the work if she was. And, as the song reached its peak, I did something I thought I would never do again. I sang along with the choir. I didn’t think I knew the words, but they still came to me, clear and deep. Like an ancient lullaby.
Mom squeezed my hand tighter, and in that moment, I knew that whatever happened, Mom and I would find a way to come back to each other. Because that’s what love was. Coming back to each other, no matter how you left.
I guess the words to the song were true.
Maybe God was trying to tell me something.
After services ended, Mom introduced me around to everyone. I’d only met most of them a few times before, but they still welcomed me with hugs and kisses as if we were long lost friends.
On my previous visits, I’d thought the congregation was unfriendly. Cold even. But they seemed like different people now.
Or maybe I was just different.
On the way home, we stopped by Duke’s for lunch.
“It was nice to see you at service today,” Mom said, spearing a piece of lettuce and dipping it in her thousand island dressing.
“Yes. It was nice.”
“Do you think you’ll go back?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
I didn’t look up at her. My stomach was in so many knots I could only nibble on my burger and fries.
I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know the words that would make things right between us.
God, how could I make things right with her?
“Sophia,” Mom said. “I think I owe you an apology.”
I nearly choked on my burger. Mom never apologized first about anything. Even when she was wrong.
“I should have told you the truth about your father years ago.” She shook her head. “I guess communication just isn’t my forte.”
I let out a breath. If that wasn’t an opening, I didn’t know what was.
“I’m sorry too. I should have been truthful with you about what was going on in my life. I shouldn’t have snuck around.” I put down the fry I’d been holding. “I saw Dad last week.”
I expected her to freak out, but she just sat there, watching me, waiting for me to speak.
“He said he didn’t want me around.”
She squeezed her lips together and nodded.
“He told me.”
I gasped. “You knew I went to see him?”
“I told him you might. And he called me after you left.”
“So, you’ve been keeping in touch with him?”
“Occasionally. You have to realize that James isn’t a dad. He’s a father biologically, but inside he’s still a little boy, running around trying to find himself. He’s not a great person, but he’s not a monster either. How could he be when he gave me you?”
I smiled.
“One day, when he has himself together, he may come around. But he’d have to get himself together first.” She shook her head. “Who knows if that will ever happen.”
I snorted.
She did too. Then she took a sip of water and set it back down on the table.
“I think that maybe I was so focused on praying and church that I forgot to get off my knees and talk to the person I was praying about.” She frowned. “I should have talked to you more. I’m sorry about that.”
“I should have talked to you more too.”
We looked at each other, as if seeing each other for the first time.
“Can we make a promise?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I promise that I will tell you more about my life. Good and bad.”
Her eyes got that glossy look again. It made my throat burn.
“And I promise to listen to you whenever you talk,” she said. “And while we’re on the subject of promises, can I add something?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s promise to be honest with each other.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
“And no more sneaking out?”
My gut clenched. My first instinct was to lie, but I’d just promised not to. I sighed.
“I promise.”
She nodded. “If you want to go out, just tell me. And, after I make sure you’re going someplace safe and appropriately accompanied, I will do my best to say yes.”
“Do your best?”
“Hey, it’s a step up.”
I dipped my fry in ketchup and shoved it into my mouth. I said I’d try. And this was all part of trying, I guess.
“Now, tell me the truth. There’s no community service, is there?” she asked.
I sighed. “No.”
A tense silence followed.
“Let’s start fresh,” she said. “From now on, you tell me your schedule and I’ll tell you mine. When you go out, let me know. And when I go out, I’ll let you know. Is that a deal?”
I nodded. “Deal.”
“Good. So, you’re in the school play?”
How did she know that? The answer came immediately. Quincey. He must’ve told her.
“Yes.”
“Which play is it?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
She nodded. “And when is this play?”
“Opening night is at the end of May.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
I gasped. “You mean you’re not going to pull me out?”
“Sophia, I’m not a monster. I know you need to have fun and go out and do things you enjoy. All I ask is that you are safe and that you tell me where you are. But you have to promise me you’ll do that. Can you promise me that?”
We’d made a lot of promises today.
“Yes.”
And, just like that Mom and I entered a new territory.
One that was sure to be full of challenges, fights, and mishaps.
But I wasn’t scared. Because I knew that whatever happened, whatever we faced, we’d do it as a team. We’d do it together.
47
My guidance counselor, Mrs. Banner, called me into her office after last period that Monday.
The last time she’d done this, it was to tell me I was probably not going to pass eleventh grade. I couldn’t begin to know what horrors awaited me now.
“Ah, Ms. Johnson.” She grinned and held out her hand, as if I was a royal dignitary that had just wandered in from off the streets. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
I smiled tightly and sat down.
Why wouldn’t I make it here? She’d called me in and I was pretty sure I didn’t have the option to say no. I wiggled in my seat, anxious to see what further wrenches she could throw in my life.
“So, how are things?” she asked.
“Um… okay.”
She nodded, her smile growing brighter.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”
A manila folder sat on her desk and she opened it.
“I had your bi-weekly review with your teachers this week and I wanted to share some updates with you.”
I swallowed, my throat tight.
She stood, walking around her desk, and sat on the edge of it.
“At first, many of your teachers approached me with suspicions of you cheating.”
I gasped.
“What?”
“Your grades improved so drastically over such a short period of time that they couldn’t believe it was done without assistance. So, we watched you as you took your test as well as compared your homework answers to your fellow students’ answers, and we discovered no evidence of foul play.”
“You were spying on me?”
“You have to understand, Ms. Johnson. You went from an F student at best, to a B student at your worst in the course of several weeks. That’s just not heard of.”
I gasped. “B student?”
Her smile widened, and she slid over a spreadsheet to me.
> “Your math grade is dragging you down a bit, but based on these numbers, I must say I am impressed.”
My teachers had graded me on homework, quizzes, and class participation over the past several weeks.
The first line was filled with zeros, forties, and a stray fifty.
The last line was filled with nineties and hundreds.
In my hands I held the result of all the hard work I’d done. All the studying and homework and struggles. In that short period of time, I’d turned my grades around.
My mouth hung open, and tears burned my eyes.
I’d done this. Yes, I’d had a ton of help, but I’d done this.
“We believe that if this trend stays upward, and with a few extra credit assignments thrown in to even things out, that you will indeed pass the eleventh grade with room to spare.”
My eyes went from the spreadsheet to Mrs. Banner. I stood, and, in my joy, I hugged her, squeezing her tight.
“Thank you.”
She patted my back gently.
“No need to thank me, dear. You did the work.”
“Thank you for not giving up on me.”
She began to say something, then stopped. In the end she simply said, you’re welcome.
After receiving a few more action items, I walked out of Mrs. Banner’s office, my spirits soaring. All this time I thought I’d be the oldest twelfth grader in history. But, as it turns out, with hard work and dedication anything is possible. Even me passing my classes.
Who knew?
Maybe this was just the beginning? Maybe I could be more here. Student council? Valedictorian? Hope bloomed in me like a rare flower. Life opened up before me, my path now filled with endless possibilities. Yes, I wanted to be a singer and travel the world, but there was nothing wrong with having a college education. A master’s degree or two.
All I needed was hard work, focus, and dedication.
I couldn’t wait to tell…
The thought trailed off. There was no Joe to tell. Joe was gone, probably back in Texas by now.
I shook my head. He would have loved to hear this. If he were here, he would have hugged me and twirled me around. We would have gone to Duke’s to celebrate. He’d order a coke, and I’d drink a ginger ale. He’d tell me I needed to focus more, and I’d tell him he needed more fun in his life.
God, I missed him. Not just today, but every day. I missed his wit and his humor. How he kept me focused and, sometimes, sane.
And now, he was gone, leaving me to do this on my own.
I held the spreadsheet closer to my heart, willing him to hear my thoughts.
I did it, Joe.
We did it.
I found Purity waiting for me outside the guidance counselor’s office.
She looked paler than usual. Her mouth downturned.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What happened?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay. What?”
“Not now. Not at school. Can I come over later?”
Why couldn’t she tell me now? What was going on?
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay. Just, don’t be mad, okay?”
But before I could reply, she walked away.
What was going on?
What could she possibly have to tell me that she couldn’t tell me now?
I had no idea, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it was not going to be good.
Later that afternoon, I sat on the floor, while Purity sat on my bed.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and she was sitting on her hands.
What was happening with her?
“You have to promise you won’t be upset,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Why would I be upset?”
“Just promise me.”
I frowned, not knowing where this was going.
“Okay. I promise.”
She looked at me, eyes wide. Then, she stood and paced the room while fiddling with her fingers.
“Remember when I went back home a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Before I came back, I toured a few colleges. I know I’m too young to go, but I wanted to start getting a feel for what I wanted to do in life. My last tour was to Duke, and when I was there, I met this guy. He seemed amazing, and we hung out one day, then the next day I was gone. I figured I’d never see him again. Then, what do you know, I saw him again at Jasmine’s art show.”
“And what happened?”
A warm smile spread over her face.
“Those old feelings kind of bubbled back up to the surface.”
“What old feelings? You only knew each other for a day.”
“Sometimes, all you need is a day.”
Boy, I sure knew that.
“Does he have the same feelings for you?”
Her smile grew. “I think so.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“It’s just so… well… it’s not exactly allowed. At least not for another few years. And I don’t want to get him in trouble.”
“Not allowed, like…”
“Like he’s older than me.”
“A lot older?”
“Not a lot. Only a year and a half. Nothing really.”
“So, he’s eighteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Purity, what are you trying to say?”
She sighed. “It’s Quincey.”
My entire body went cold.
“My cousin?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”
I tried not to. I really did.
But my insides were boiling.
I stood up.
“Sophia, you promised.”
“I’m not mad.” I jogged to the door and pulled the handle while Purity jogged behind me.
“Where are you going?”
“Just having a little talk with my cousin.”
“Sophia, stop!”
But I couldn’t stop, because the sheer hypocrisy he’d displayed had me ready to tear the entire building down.
I shoved his door open without knocking. He was sitting in a chair, playing video games.
When he saw me, with Purity behind me, his eyes went wide and a swear left his lips.
“How long?” I demanded.
Quincey put his hands up. “Can we all just—”
“How long?”
“Since the night of the art class,” Purity replied.
I shook my head, betrayal slicing through my heart.
“So, you freaked out when you thought Joe and I were together, and here you are making out with my best friend who is sixteen years old, by the way.”
“We didn’t make out.”
Purity threw her hands up. “She knows, Q.”
Quincey looked like he was about to vomit. He ran both of his hands over his face as sweat beaded on his forehead. “Oh my God. I’m going to jail.”
“You are a hypocrite,” I spat, snatching his hands from over his face. “Do you hear me? A hypocrite. You can pray about that next time you go to church.”
I turned to Purity.
“And you can get out.”
“What? Why?”
“You kept this from me. We were friends and you kept this from me. He’s my cousin.”
Purity’s eyes watered, and her bottom lip trembled, but I didn’t care. I was so angry with them for lying to me that I couldn’t even look at her.
“Sophia.”
“You know what? Stay. I’ll go. And this friendship is over. Officially.”
I sent both of them a final glare before leaving the room.
I pulled on my sneakers, grabbed my bookbag and left them both behind.
48
It’s odd how small pieces of life float into your conscious at the weirdest times.
Grandma Odie standing in the kitchen cooking crawfish.
Mom singing in church.
Quincey and me ju
mping on his bed and laughing.
I thought of all of this as I lay on my bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out the next steps of my life.
How could Quincey and Purity do this to me behind my back?
How could they hurt me like this?
It wasn’t so much that they were having a relationship, it was that they lied about it.
Two of the people I most trusted had lied to me.
For weeks.
What was I supposed to do now?
A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Enter,” I called.
Quincey peeked his head into my room.
Anger burned within me at the sight of him. But, surprisingly, so did sadness.
It felt like a million years since I’d talked to him, let alone seen him. We’d been living in the same house for weeks, but it was like we were strangers. When did that happen? I tried to think back. We were fine when he first got here. Then Joe started coming around and Quincey became more and more distant, defensive, and combative. Were those two things related?
“Hey,” he said, standing in the doorway.
“Hey.”
He closed the door behind him and sat in the computer chair.
I hugged my pillow, determined to keep my emotions in control and have an adult conversation.
“Look, I’m not going to apologize for dating Purity and I don’t think you should give up on her because I’m in her life.”
Really? That’s what he had to say?
I scoffed. “Well, thank you for that.”
“I know you’re mad at me, but I want you to hear me out. I have a few things to say.”
“So, say them.”
He sighed and shoved his hands in his sweatshirt pockets.
“I told Joe that I didn’t want him dating you.”
The blood drained from my face.
“You what?”
Quincey looked down at his shoes, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Joe came to me the day after he started tutoring you saying he was developing feelings for you. But I told him you had to work on yourself first before you could think about a relationship. After that it was every week. Then every day. He just kept on asking if it was okay with me. He said that if I had a problem with it, he wouldn’t make a move. And I kept telling him that I did have a problem with it. That you weren’t ready. Then, last week he said he was going to be with you whether I liked it or not, and I told him that if he made a move, we’d no longer be friends. That was the day before the camping trip. I texted him the next day and told him to stay away permanently.”