When You Look Like Us

by Pamela N. Harris

  Nic’s face lights up. “Really?”

  I nod just as the door swings open. MiMi clutches her mouth in the doorway, tears streaming out of both eyes. Nic’s face crumples when she sees MiMi, and her whole body jerks as she sobs. MiMi rushes over to her and cradles her with both arms.

  “My baby,” she says into Nic’s hair. “My baby’s finally home.” They cry into each other’s arms, spreading so much joy throughout the room that when I breathe in, my chest feels lighter, despite the bruises. MiMi peeks up at me. She peels one hand off Nic and clutches onto my arm. “See?” she says to me. “Prayers work.”

  I smile at her and rub her hand. She squeezes my arm one last time before pulling away and wrapping both arms around Nic again. I want to take a picture of this moment, but something’s missing. There’s so much happiness in my heart that it spills over, and I know just who to spread it to. I stand and head for the door.

  “Jay.” MiMi looks up at me. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back,” I say. “I have to go thank someone.”

  Twenty-Nine

  I STAND OUTSIDE OF RILEY’S BEDROOM WINDOW WITH MY phone held high over my head. The theme song to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pours out of its tiny speaker. Sure, not the most romantic song choice, but hopefully Riley gets it. Hopefully she’ll hear it and realize that the kid who told her to shut up all those years ago was just insecure about everything. Had his guard up. Hope she knows that the kid is a young man now, and that he thinks it’s fickin’ awesome that she cared enough to notice anything about his costume.

  “Riley!” I call out over the music. “Riley, talk to me. Please!”

  After a few seconds, the window slides open and I hold my breath. This is it, Jay. Say everything you practiced in your head. Mrs. Palmer pokes her face out of the window with a satin bonnet sitting on her head. She frowns at me.

  “Jayson Murphy, what in the heck are you doing?” she shouts at me.

  I quickly lower my hand holding the phone and the phone almost slips out of my grasp. “So sorry, Mrs. Palmer. I was just looking for Riley.”

  “Do you have any clue what time it is? Where is your grandmother? She know you out here?”

  “It’s okay, Mom!” Riley comes jogging out of her front door toward me. She looks up at her mom. “I’ll take care of it!”

  “Riley, don’t you be wandering off anywhere! Weekend or not, it’s late!”

  “Mo-ooom.” Riley raises her eyebrows at Mrs. Palmer.

  Mrs. Palmer smirks at the both of us. “Five minutes, Riley. That’s all.” She clicks her tongue and disappears back inside of the house.

  Riley sighs then turns back to me. Nods at my phone. “Is that your new jam?”

  I forget that the song is still spilling out of my phone. I quickly stop it. “My bad. I just wanted to get your attention.”

  “I think you got everyone’s attention.”

  I wince. “Sorry. I figured your parents’ bedroom was that room downstairs.”

  “Guest bedroom.” She looks me over and her mouth drops open. The same expression I gave myself when I scoped out the mirror at the hospital. Huge gash on my chin that peeked out of my bandage. A swollen lip. The dawning of a black eye. She reaches for me, but then pauses—her fingertips only centimeters away from me. “Are you okay?”

  I swat a hand. “Solid. The hospital gave me the all clear. Nothing a bath with Epsom salt can’t fix.”

  Riley hugs herself. “So . . . I hear you have good news?”

  My face breaks into a smile. “Yeah. Nic’s home. MiMi’s happy. I’m happy. It’s all good . . . mainly thanks to you.”

  Riley looks down at her feet and tries to hide her smile.

  “How did you know?” I ask her. “How did you know where we’d be?”

  “Bowie told me you ran out of the vigil like your you-know-what was on fire,” she explains. “Of course, we were concerned. I figured it had something to do with Nic. Then Sterling told us she saw you talking to that guy from Deer Park. Pooch, right?”

  I nod along, urging her to continue.

  “Pooch told me how you kept asking about Nic’s phone. Kept asking about the guys with the fraternity hoodies who had it. White guys in frat gear in this city could only come from one campus—JRU.” Riley’s hands dance in the air, detailing how she tied everything together. I watch in admiration, enjoying the moment. “So I filled Bowie in and we took our intel to Hunter. He had just shown up to the vigil with his wife. Of course, I made Bowie start the story because . . . you know.” She gives me a smile and I get it. Sometimes, when a clue comes from someone with fairer skin, cops are quicker to listen. Even cops from your own community. “Plus, Bowie had gotten a new reply on his Instagram post. Someone had spotted Nic at a DU party a few weeks ago. Next thing I know, Hunter takes off and I held my breath. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.”

  All the words blend together and paint a full picture. Bowie seemed like he wanted to tell me something else at the vigil. Probably this new tip. Hunter and his guys must’ve gone to the frat house. Heard from one of the guests that Liam and his friends took off. Put two and two together that they might be headed to the same place where they dumped Kenny’s body. Nic and I got lucky. All because of Riley. And Bowie. The same Bowie I’ve been pushing away and who kept bouncing back.

  “Thank you,” I say to Riley. “Things were looking real grim for me and Nic at first. I couldn’t save us.”

  Riley swats her hand at me. “Stop. You found your sister before anyone else could. You would’ve found a way to save her, too.”

  I take her hand and hold it. “No, Riley. Listen to me—thank you.” I push the words out from somewhere deep. Somewhere that hasn’t felt warm in a long time . . . until I started spending more time with her. “Thank you for tonight. Thank you for the past two weeks. Thank you for the last eight years.”

  Riley chews on her bottom lip and snorts. Then covers up her mouth like she’s embarrassed. I want to pull down her hand. She should never feel embarrassed about anything again. “Well, that’s what friends do, right?”

  “I was hoping we were more than that.” I take a deep breath. Play with her fingers and try to find my nerve. “Riley . . . I . . . I want to try this. For real. I want us to be an us.” My whole body exhales, like releasing those words makes me feel lighter than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. Like I was always supposed to say them.

  Riley’s hand turns rigid in mine and she stares at me like I’ve just returned from the dead. Shit. I’m too late. I said some terrible things to Riley the other night and she’s had enough. She’s amazing. Probably the most amazing woman I’ve ever met aside from MiMi. She wants to find a guy that’s known how amazing she is all along and didn’t try to push her away.

  But Riley doesn’t push me away. In fact, she grabs the back of my head and pulls my face to hers. She kisses me and I kiss her . . . then pause.

  “Did I hurt you?” she asks, concern spilling out of both eyes.

  “I’m good. I’m better than good. But . . .” I take a breath. “What about your parents? They don’t want you fooling around with—”

  Riley puts a finger on my lips. “I’ll work on them. I can be pretty convincing.”

  I smile. She’s never said truer words. I lean in for another kiss, and we both float and dance next to the moon.

  Thirty

  SLIM AND QUAN ARE AT IT AGAIN ON JAVON’S STOOP—despite Javon just getting released after being falsely accused of murder. Even despite it being the Lord’s day. It’s a lazy Sunday for me. MiMi felt that we had a good reason to skip out on service. She’s still at the hospital with Nic, getting her all squared away before signing her out. She told me to take it easy today, even though the doctor cleared me and said I didn’t have a concussion after all those head bumps the night before. I take advantage of it, though. Lying in bed and sending all these cutesy emojis to Riley to distract her from Sunday school. Yeah, I’m that guy now. The guy who sen
ds hearts and kissy faces to his girlfriend.

  Riley Palmer is my girlfriend. Man, a lot can happen in two weeks.

  I peeled myself out of bed, though, when Officer Hunter called to tell me about Javon. Guess he feels so guilty for not believing me so many times—wants to make sure I stay in the loop. He hasn’t made it up to me completely yet, but I’m having fun watching him try.

  I stand at the foot of Javon’s stoop, nod at Slim and Quan.

  “Javon home?” I ask them.

  Slim leans forward and rests an arm on his chubby thigh. “Who wants to know?”

  I blink at him. “It’s Jay. You guys know me. I live right over there.” I point to my building.

  “Yeah, but what’s the password?” Quan asks.

  I frown. “Since when do we need a password to speak to Javon?”

  “Have you ever rolled up here asking to speak to Javon directly, nigga?” Quan says.

  I pause. “I mean . . . no,” I say finally.

  “Exactly.” Slim leans back in his seat. “So, if you don’t know the password, we can’t help you, bruh.”

  Quan stifles a laugh just as Javon strides through his building’s main door. “Man, y’all two motherfuckers need to stop screwing around,” Javon says. At that, the laughter fully erupts from Slim and Quan.

  “Ha ha,” I say, smirking at them.

  Javon walks down the stoop and toward the mailboxes. He doesn’t say a word, but I assume I’m just supposed to follow him. So, I do. He takes a seat on the bench next to the mailboxes, right underneath the trees. I sit right next to him. Lil Chuck and his friends toss a football in the street in front of us.

  “You have to stop letting dudes clown you all the time,” Javon says to me but keeps his eyes on the kids. “You too gullible.”

  I nod then shrug. “I guess. But it’s good to trust people sometimes, right?” Nobody trusted Javon—that’s how he got popped in the first place. Nobody trusted me when I told them Nic was missing and didn’t just run off. I didn’t trust Bowie enough to let him in my business. But Riley trusted me. Look at how that turned out.

  “I should’ve trusted you,” I continue. “I should’ve believed you no matter how much Hunter got in my ear. But I treated you like how everyone treated you. How everyone treats people who look like us and live where we live. And for that, I’m sorry.” I’m not just gaming Javon. I actually mean it. After leaving my family at the hospital, I tried to remember the last time I saw Javon’s people, and I couldn’t. Don’t even remember Nic mentioning them. It hits me even more sitting next to him: the only reason I didn’t become Javon is because I had a MiMi. A Nic. A Man Boo. A Riley. Hell, a village. I glance over at Javon. He’s so still, so steady, that I can’t tell if he fell asleep with his eyes open.

  Finally, he nods toward Lil Chuck and them. “Remember what it was like to be that age?” he asks. “All carefree and laughing all the time. Not worried about what others thought about you. Back then, everyone’s your friend until they don’t share their snack cake with you or some shit. And you can be anything you want to be, you know?”

  I give a slight nod. I grew up a little too fast after what happened to my parents, but MiMi tried her best to keep me and Nic young.

  “I miss that feeling, yo.” Javon looks over at me. “I’m going back to community college. Turning my business over to Slim and Quan.”

  The breeze from under the trees just about knocks me over. “You trust those clowns?” I ask.

  Javon snickers. “They’ve been doing it long enough to know the game. But it won’t be my problem anymore. I have enough bread saved up. I’m gonna tell them to find a new spot. Get up out of the Ducts. Those kids deserve better.” He nods over at Lil Chuck then sighs. “How’s Nic?”

  “She’s good. She’s getting out of the hospital today, actually.” I pause. “You coming by to see her?”

  Javon tilts his head, like he’s really considering his options. “Nah. That’s not a good look anymore, you feel me?” He glances at me again like he wants to make sure I do. “What you said to me . . . in my car the other night? I get it. It’s not Nic’s job to make me feel like a king. I need to handle my own shit.” His eyes squeeze closed for a few seconds, like the thought of letting Nic go causes him physical pain.

  I get it, too. I feel the same way about Riley. That’s why I’m going to try to be a better person. Take care of my own things so she doesn’t feel like she has to do it for me, but she wants to because she loves me. Javon and I continue to watch the kids play football. They laugh as one of the kids fumbles the ball and Javon joins in. I can get used to this lighter Javon. Even though he won’t be around Nic much anymore, maybe I can check in on him sometimes to make sure he’s still floating in a good way. The kids keep laughing and it’s contagious. Their laughter so sweet it should be the theme song to the Ducts.

  Thirty-One

  NIC AND I WALK THROUGH THE HALLS OF YOUNGS MILL HIGH. Of course, heads swivel in our direction. A few polite waves are thrown at Nic, followed by curious whispers.

  “I wonder how long this is going to go on,” I mutter.

  Nic waves at a classmate and smiles. “I mean, it’s not every day that someone rises from the dead. I’d be nosy too.” We reach her locker and she looks at me. “Don’t you have your own class to get ready for?”

  “I’m making sure you’re straight.”

  “You don’t have to babysit me, Jay. I’m fine. Much rather be back in school than cooped up in my bedroom or a hospital.” She pauses as she grabs a book. “Wow, it’s been a long time since I said the words ‘rather be in school’ together.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure that’ll grow old soon.”

  Nic frowns. Not a frown like she’s pissed or anything—more like she’s had a moment to think about something. “You know, I don’t think it will. I mean, yeah. I’m sure I’ll complain about getting up early or writing an essay that I’ll forget about a week later. But there were times over the last few weeks that I thought I’d never see you, or MiMi, or even Principal Gilbert.” She laughs at that. “Every night in that basement, I kept praying to God that if He got me out of there, I would do everything better. I’d take advantage of every moment I had. He did His part, so I got to do mine.”

  I smile at her, impressed. “You getting all biblical on me?”

  “Bruh, I’m going to start spitting verses at you on the regular now.”

  We both laugh as Sterling timidly walks over to us. She gives Nic a tiny wave as Nic’s laughter dies.

  “Hey, girl,” Sterling says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I wanted to come visit you in the hospital, but . . .” Her voice dies out. Nic and I stare at her, waiting for her to continue. Not letting her off the hook. “So anyways, you look great.”

  Nic nods at Sterling. “Same to you.”

  Sterling raises her eyebrows, her face all filled with confidence. “You want to leave campus during lunch? Maybe hit up Tropical Smoothie like old times?”

  “I’m eating lunch with my school counselor,” Nic says.

  “Oh.” Sterling blinks. “Well, maybe we can catch up over the weekend. You could stay the night. We could call that lady from the mobile spa over and get our toes done.”

  Nic sighs. “I have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on. My nights and weekends are going to be booked. Probably for a long, long time. Maybe even for the remainder of the school year.”

  I stifle a laugh. Sterling looks over at me and I start clearing my throat. Even hit my chest to get up more imaginary phlegm.

  “I’ll just catch you whenever then.” Sterling gives another wave to Nic, then scurries down the hall, her head hanging low.

  I look over at Nic and raise my eyebrows at her.

  “‘Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.’ Isaiah . . .” Nicole pauses. I wave my hand at her, try to get her to conjure up the chapter. “Look, I just recently turned a new leaf, okay? It’ll come to me later.” She closes her locker and
playfully pushes my shoulder. “No stalking me today. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  I give her a salute to show I’ll follow her orders. But I still watch as she walks down the hall, make sure she remembers the way to her first class. Our conversation hangs in the air over me. About doing better. About taking advantage of every opportunity. Youngs Mill may not be the best school, but at least there were people here that wanted to see me do my best. Like Mrs. Chung. Or Mr. Booker. Hell, Mr. Branch even gave me his home email address in case I needed to bump gums about more than matrices.

  I head toward the main office and the person I’m looking for stands at her hall duty post near the entrance, reminding students to take off their hats and pull up their pants.

  “Mrs. Pratt?”

  Mrs. Pratt looks up from scolding a girl about wearing a camisole as a shirt. “How’s it going, Jay?”

  “You said you had intel about SAT registration, right?” I ask.

  Mrs. Pratt’s face lights up like it’s Christmas morning. “You have a minute to come to my office now?”

  I shrug. “I have more than a minute.” I follow Mrs. Pratt into her office, this time remembering every step.

  MiMi sets a platter of freshly baked cornbread that’s been cut up into equal squares right in front of Bowie. Bowie’s eyes look like they’re about to roll right onto the kitchen table.

  “Is all this for me?” he asks.

  Nic and I crack up laughing. MiMi smiles as she takes a seat across from him.

  “What?” Bowie blinks. “I’m not scared. I’ll knock this whole plate back in five minutes flat.”

  “You take one and pass it, fool,” I say to him. “Just like you do with everything else.”

  “You sure? I just figured you were bribing me with all this fickin’ food to make up for lost time.” He raises an eyebrow at me and gives me a smile. I give him a lazy roll of the eyes, then smile back.

  When I texted MiMi from school about Bowie coming over for dinner tonight, she warned me that she might have to scrape something together. Of course, she still managed to go all out. Fried catfish, dirty rice, cabbage stir-fried with real bacon and not that rubbery turkey stuff she’s been buying lately. She even baked a yellow cake with chocolate frosting for later.