home, or you wanna go through town?
I look over at Mia again, mid-conversation with smoking hot Mr. Marsden ahead of us. I want her to notice me—I can’t explain it. With guys it’s easy. You learn to expect what everyone else wants: hand holding, kissing, a sweet note to make you feel special. But feeling like this? And with a girl? I rub my forehead. I’ll try not to think about it and maybe it’ll go away. Mia has paused at the gate so we reach her and Mr. Marsden at the same time as Grace and a group of girls appear behind us. Their flirty attention on Mr. Marsden, we have the chance to say hi to Mia. This “hi” makes me sound perkier than a summer camp counselor. I take a vow of silence in my head. Ryan and Tony have caught up. I grab your sleeve and skirt to the edge of the pack to steer clear of association with gems like:
GRACE
Mr. Marsden, do you have a girlfriend?
Grace leans a forearm coyly on her friend Ginny’s shoulder like she’s a prop. If I were Ginny, I’d step away. Mia smiles as she gets the same inappropriate questioning. Her furtive raised eyebrow to whether she has a boyfriend seems like a yes—of course she does, it’d be crazy if she didn’t. Having someone around like Grace, who says everything you would never dream of saying, has its perks. You can roll your eyes and still hear the answer. She persists.
GRACE
Do you live together?
Everyone seems to move in closer, reminding me of last year’s French exchange group with their relaxed sense of personal space. Mia is squeezed out of view as more people flock through the gate. I feel like a toddler at a rock concert. You’ve said something but I’m still trying to hear her. Your voice again:
YOU
Phy? You coming?
When I reluctantly step away, I think I hear Ryan chiming in.
RYAN
Tony wants to know your position on dating students.
A fit of laughter. I glance back but from what I can see Mia is still smiling good-naturedly. We stop at the corner and I realize how much I wish I wanted to fawn all over Mr. Marsden.
YOU
You okay?
ME
Sure! Fine!
The answer is not Sure! Fine! so I’m not sure why I say it is. And you’re not stupid, I know you don’t believe me. I should have been honest—I’m always honest with you! But somehow this is different. I can’t say anything yet, I can’t define it and I’m not sure I want to. Seeing my focus shift over your shoulder again, you try for a sympathetic nod but I can see that you’re feeling shut out.
YOU
So I’ll see you tomorrow?
I return the nod and watch you take a couple of steps backward before you shift your bag onto your shoulder and swing away from me as we go our separate ways.
MY BEDROOM. ALMOST MIDNIGHT.
Staring at the ceiling, I push the covers down, pulling a pillow into my arms and burying my face beneath it to shut out the shaft of moonlight from the gap in the curtains. My decision not to think about Mia is like deciding not to think about a pink elephant when someone says Don’t think about a pink elephant. And, after all, there’s nothing wrong with how I feel, right? It probably doesn’t mean anything … Something Mom once said runs through my head: Belonging is a privilege. I take a ponderous breath and roll onto my back, pushing off the covers. Well, I think I took belonging for granted. At least, I don’t want to be set apart. Not for this. I need to fit in.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m still staring at the ceiling. I think the angry purple is keeping me awake. It’s always been my favorite color so I never gave it any thought but I suddenly feel like I can’t have it there another minute. I untangle my feet from the sheet. Mom has aquamarine leftover from the spare room. I feel for the phone and call you on your cell as it’s the middle of the night. The ringing sounds so loud in the darkness. You’re on the end of the phone, sleepy, and maybe cross, I can’t quite tell.
ME
Hi, it’s me. Are you asleep?
YOU
Hmm?
ME
Can you come over and help me paint my room?
YOU
Hmm? It’sthemiddleofthenight.
ME
I know, but purple isn’t peaceful.
FRONT DOOR. SOON AFTER.
Whether you’ve come because you’re the best friend anyone could ever have, or because you think I’m crazy