“Mom’s here too!” Sammy chimes in eagerly, pushing Mom closer to the phone.
“Oh! Hey, Raq,” Dad says. “How are our offspring?”
“You mean when they’re not eating everything in the fridge? They’re doing okay,” Mom says, tickling Sammy’s side.
“Sounds like they’re taking after me.”
Alec walks into the kitchen with his gym bag, kissing Piper on the head.
“Who’s that?” he asks.
“Chay,” Mom says. “Calling from Japan.”
“Oh! Hey, brother! How are you?”
“Alec! Doing good! Just eating my weight in sushi. How’s the new gig?”
I wish I was annoyed that Dad and Alec are sort of buddies, but . . . it’s actually kinda cool. No weirdness or tension that I can see, but I once asked him about it during a game of chess.
“Hey, Dad, why are you trying to be cool with the jerk stealing your wife and kids?”
Dad laughed. “I love your mom, I want her to be happy. We weren’t really happy together and no one deserves part-time love from a guy traveling all over the world. So if this guy makes her happy, then I want him to know that he’s all right in my book.”
Sammy’s brows furrow, watching Alec talk. He’s less than enthused.
“Oh, hey, Alec, did you get my text?” Dad asks.
“Yup! Just about to deliver it. Hang on, while you’re on the line.”
“Nah, man, you go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Dad says his goodbyes as Alec runs into the hallway.
“What was all that about?” Mom asks.
Alec opens the closet and retrieves a red shoebox from the top shelf. He walks back in, beaming, before holding it out to me.
“Here you go! Your dad asked me to surprise you!”
I stare at the box, blinking. Mom’s face lights up.
“What’s this?”
“New sneakers,” he says, grinning. “For track! He thought you might need some.”
Oh no.
Thoughts whirlwind and I lick my lips. “Um, thanks, but . . . I’m not doing track.”
Alec’s face falls. “What?”
“You can return them if you’d like. I’m sure they were expensive.”
The rooms freezes around me. Too many questioning looks. I quickly grab my bag, duck around Alec, and head for the door.
“Mari,” Mom says, following me, her tone clipped. “You don’t want to do track?”
“I . . . just want to focus on my healing this year. I don’t need any distractions.”
Mom opens her mouth but I quickly cut her off.
“Anyways, gotta go, don’t want to be late!”
Here’s the first thing that I noticed about Kings High School: it’s old. Like, seats attached to mini desks, green blackboards old. Lockers the color of liver; most of the textbooks coverless; a computer lab from the dinosaur ages. Not much wood to worry about, so at least I won’t be a total freak inspecting my seat every day.
The second thing I noticed: the kids. On first glance, you’d think this was an all-girls’ school. It’s not that I’m looking for boys, but you could practically smell the estrogen permeating the air. By lunch, I counted no more than six boys, total. Yusef being one of them, surrounded by a pack of groupies, participating in some kind of fashion contest for his attention. I keep my head down and my distance.
The third thing I noticed: the smell. It didn’t stink but it had a musty scent that reminded me of a nursing home. And yet, all day I spent sniffing the unfamiliar halls, classrooms, the dimly lit gym. Sniffing kept me occupied enough to ignore the few mumbles hitting my back.
“That’s that new girl who lives on Maple Street. . . .”
“What happened to her face?”
But I wasn’t smelling the school for a whiff of nostalgia. I was sniffing for . . . something specific.
Right before last period, with my nostrils full of dust, I catch a faint whiff of it. A girl with long braids and an oversized jean jacket wrapped in that familiar sweet, tangy scent mixed with fiery smoke.
Just the kind of smoke I’m looking for.
She treks down the hall in her headphones and I follow, straight into a narrow bathroom with two stalls. Shit.
“Uh, hey,” I say at the sink, awkwardly washing my hands, realizing I don’t have a game plan.
“Heyyyy,” she says, squeezing drops in the corners of her eyes. The smell is even stronger with her bag open.
I’m trash at the whole “making friends with complete strangers” thing, so I blurt out the only thing I can think of.
“Um, you got a tampon?”
She chuckles. “Girl, that was weak as hell. You gotta do better than that.” She faces me. “Did you know elephants are pregnant for two years and pretty much give birth through their butts? Imagine having to carry a load of shit for a whole two years.” She pauses with a grin. “See? Now that’s how you strike up a convo. Oh, the name’s Erika.”
Relieved, I smile. “Marigold.”
“I know,” she laughs. “There ain’t no one in this school who doesn’t know your name.”
“I’m playing right into the New Girl in Town cliché, aren’t I?”
“Yup. You’re fresh competition.”
“Competition?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re a pussy-heavy population.”
“Glad it’s not just my imagination. You’re not threatened?”
She grins. “We’re not playing on the same team, boo.”
We walk into the hall and I’m comforted by her familiar scent. Comforted enough to ask for a hit. But . . . Tamara’s voice is in my head, telling me to be careful. Erika is still a stranger, and if this move has taught me anything, it is to tread lightly with people you don’t know.
With the day done, I’m pretty proud of myself for surviving unscathed and making at least one new friend. That is, until I hear a familiar voice call my name.
“Cali, what’s up!”
Oh no. . . .
Yusef jogs in my direction, smiling, and the entire hallway freezes. The eyes of every single girl zero in on us. Erika raises an eyebrow.
“Welp, that’s my cue,” she chuckles. “Catch you later.”
I squirm as she runs off, working fast to pack up my bag and grab my AirPods. A girl walking by bumps into my shoulder, a scowl on her face.
“Seriously?” Are we in middle school?
Yusef stops behind me as I slam my locker shut.
“Hey,” I mutter, speed walking toward the front doors, but he follows.
“What up doe? Haven’t seen you all day!”
“It’s a pretty big school,” I grumble, avoiding eye contact.
“Damn, girl,” he says, finger circling my welt. “You bruise easy.”
I shoot him daggers. “It’s soooo not funny.”
“Well, at least you came to school looking tough.”
“Or looking like I got my ass beat.”
He chuckles. “I’d lean them the other way and make ’em guess. So? How you liking it?”
We bust through the front doors with the entire population of Kings High watching us.