and I guess the fact I wouldn’t speak to him made him sit up front with Shana.
Sonny hates it.
“When you two fight, it’s like Captain America versus Iron Man, and my ass is Peter Parker, in awe of both of you,” he said. “I can’t pick sides, dammit.”
“I don’t want you to. But you do know Peter was technically on Iron Man’s side, right?”
“Not the point, Bri!”
I hate he’s in this position, but it is what it is. I’m not talking to Malik until he apologizes. I mean, come on, sellout? I was already pissed at him for making Shana laugh at my expense. Okay, and a little pissed that he brought her in the first place. Can you blame me though? I had no clue there was something between them, and then all of a sudden I’m the third wheel on what I thought was lunch with my best friend.
And what I stupidly assumed was a date. But I’m madder at myself about that. I always get feelings for boys who will never have feelings for me. I’m just destined to be that person.
Anyway, I can’t worry about Malik. At the moment I’m more worried about this almost empty refrigerator I’m standing in front of.
It’s the second day of break, and I’ve been here a minute now. Long enough that I’ve counted how many items there are. Eighteen, to be exact. Eight eggs, four apples, two sticks of butter, one jar of strawberry jelly (to go with the one jar of peanut butter in the cabinet), one gallon of milk, one gallon of orange juice, one loaf of bread. The freezer isn’t much better—a ten-pound bag of chicken, a bag of peas, and a bag of corn. That’ll be dinner tonight and tomorrow night, too. Don’t know what we’ll have for dinner after that. Christmas is a giant question mark.
Trey reaches past me. “Stop letting the cold air out of the refrigerator, Bri.”
Make that seven eggs. He grabs one and the bread.
“You sound like Grandma.” I could have the refrigerator open ten seconds and here she comes talking about, “Close that door before you spoil the food!”
“Hey, she had a point,” Trey says. “You run up the light bill like that, too.”
“Whatever.” I close the refrigerator. The door is covered in new bills. The gas bill got paid, which is why the house is warm and the fridge is almost empty. When it came down to more food or heat, the cold weather made Jay choose heat—we’re supposed to get snow flurries next week. She said we can “stretch” the food we have.
I can’t wait for the day we don’t have to stretch or choose. “What am I supposed to do for breakfast?”
Trey cracks the egg into a sizzling skillet. “Scramble an egg like I’m doing.”
“I hate eggs though.” He knows this. They’re too . . . eggy.
“Make a PB and J then,” Trey says.
“For breakfast?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
Jay comes in, pulling her hair into a ponytail. “What y’all going on about?”
“There’s hardly anything to eat,” I say.
“I know. I’m heading over to the community center. Gina said there’s a food giveaway. We can get some stuff to hold us over until the first.”
Trey slides his egg onto a slice of bread. “Ma, maybe you should go downtown soon.”
Downtown is code for “the welfare office.” That’s what folks around the Garden call it. Saying “downtown” keeps people out of your business. But everybody knows what it really means. I’m not sure what the point is.
“I will absolutely not go down there,” Jay says. “I refuse to let those folks in that office demean me because I have the audacity to ask for help.”
“But if it’ll help—”
“No, Brianna. Trust me, baby, Uncle Sam ain’t giving anything for free. He’s gonna strip you of your dignity to give you pennies. Besides, I couldn’t get anything anyway. They don’t allow college students to get food stamps if they don’t have a job, and I’m not dropping out.”
What the hell? I swear, this shit is like quicksand—the harder we try to get out, the harder it is to get out.
“I’m just saying it would help, Ma,” says Trey. “We need all the help we can get.”
“I’m gonna make sure we have food,” she says. “Stop worrying about that, okay?”
Trey sighs out of his nose. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” Jay kisses his cheek, then wipes away the lipstick mark. “Bri, I want you to come with me to the giveaway.”