and they can’t afford to hire me yet. So, don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me.”
She exhales the way my mother does when she’s trying to calm her nerves. “I didn’t want to be in the same class with my twin brother for the rest of my life.”
That’s the last thing I expected her to say. “Didn’t you have to live together, too?”
“I didn’t hate him. It was everyone else. He’s great at everything. He’s charming, and funny, and smart. They couldn’t help but compare us, and I was never anyone’s favorite.” She says it like it doesn’t matter, and maybe it doesn’t, anymore. But, if she failed a grade and added an entire year to school to get away from him, it must have mattered a whole lot. “I’m sorry,” I say and hate how dumb it sounds.
“Don’t be. It was one year, and I've recovered nicely. I know it must make you twitchy seeing how you’re in a rush and all.”
That hook twists tighter “Not by choice. I have to take care of my brothers. I’ll peak early and then, I’ll do an Aaliyah or a Biggie, and that’ll be it.”.
“What?” she chuckles.
“They all peaked early and died early. I’m ten, and five years ahead in school. Figure I’ll finish college by the time I’m 18, and then I’ll get a job, kick butt and then kick the bucket by 30, max. So, I’m not gonna get married or have kids. Better not to have people left behind who need me.”
“But…that’s ridiculous,” she sputters.
“Tell that to Selena, Ricky Valens, Tupac, Kurt Cobain, River Phoenix, James Dean.” I counter.
“Are you serious?”
“You look like I just told you I was from Mars.”
She groans. “So, what about Oprah Winfrey, Margaret Thatcher, Vera Wang, Betty White, Viola Davis?”
“Violin who?”
She darts an unimpressed glare in my direction and shakes her head in disappointment.
“I’m going to teach you some women’s history while you’re cleaning. They’re all legends who have lived long after their moment of glory. My dad died young; I know my time could come any day. But that just makes me want to do something worth being remembered for. Your life will have more than one peak, and more than one valley. You might die young and it’s good to live like this might be your last day, because hell. who knows? But you better plan like you’re gonna be here until you’re a hundred and three.”
“And, we’re here,” she announces breezily, oblivious to the seismic shift her words have caused inside me. She pops the trunk before turning to face me. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yup.” I croak and grab the door handle.
“Oooh, I almost forgot. One sec…” She reaches into the back seat, pulls out a white wax lined bakery bag and holds it out to me.
“Scones. In case you get hungry between classes tomorrow.”
I take the bag and hope that she can see the gratitude in my eyes. I’m afraid that if I try to speak, I’ll cry.
I hold the bag with as much delicacy as I can while I walk my bike up to the side entrance. I turn to look back at where she dropped me off, she’s still there watching until she’s sure I’m going to get inside safely, something my own mother has never done. I lift a hand to return her wave goodbye and slip past the gate.
That night, for the first time since my stepfather died, I don’t cry myself to sleep.
Just My Imagination
Stone
The last four months have been the best of my whole life. Regan gave me more than a place to study; she’s transformed my whole life. When I walked into class the morning after my first night with her, the ball of dread that always sat in my gut wasn’t so heavy.
I’d been afraid to fight back because I didn’t want to get kicked out. But I saw their faces when she reminded them that I’m a Rivers and I know they don’t want trouble either. They only pick on me because I let them.
The next time they cornered me, I swung my backpack at the one whose face was closest and broke his nose.
He bled all over the hallway.
We were both hauled to the principal’s office, and before I could say anything, he announced that I’d hit him accidentally.
They never bothered me again.
It only took me one month to work enough hours to earn the $500 I owed her. When she told me my tab was settled, I kept coming