“Thank you.”
“Have a nice day. And come back to see us.”
“I will.”
When I get home, I hide the album in the back of my bedroom closet. I sit on my bed for a while, just trying to cool off from being outside in all that heat. I lie down on my back, across my bed looking up at the ceiling.
I saw Tye today.
I can’t get him off my mind.
I pick up my phone, think about calling him. No, maybe a text. Maybe I should reach out and tell him how nice it was to see him today, tell him how much I miss him. I sit up and type a few messages but delete them all.
Then, I get my notebook, work on me instead.
GRATITUDE LIST
1.I am grateful for Sadie because she sees me, feels me, doesn’t judge me.
2.I am grateful for Grandma’s friends at Sugar Hill. The way they make me laugh, think. How JT is like a grandfather, how the women are bonus grandmothers to me. How we are all family.
3.I am grateful for Aunt Liz for being the example of independence, style, and excellence.
4.I am grateful for Blue for making music that heals my heart.
27
BLUE PLAYLIST, TRACK 8
Missing You Interlude
The sun is setting.
It reminds me of your smile.
How it is always so stunning
but never the same twice.
How even as I watch it fade away,
still I am not ready to see it go.
Imani tells me that Inspire Harlem is having an end-of-summer gathering for family and friends. I really don’t want to go because I know Tye will be there. And his mom. And Toya will be there. And everyone else who knows that I lied and who saw me on stage making a fool of myself reciting song lyrics. So yeah, I don’t really want to go but part of me does. I want to go because Imani is getting an award and I know it will mean a lot to her if I’m there.
I haven’t decided yet. But what I did decide to do is donate all those party supplies I bought with Tye. Ms. Lori was so happy to have them. “Just in time,” she said to thank me. “We’ll use these for decorations at the ceremony.”
I kind of want to go just to see how they’ll use the decorations.
I don’t have much longer to decide because today’s the day. Right now, I am hanging out with Aunt Ebony, helping her prep for the school year. Summer is almost gone. Just a few more weeks and we’ll be back to our fall and winter routine. We are in the family den, and I am working on posters and charts that Aunt Ebony will laminate later and hang in her classroom.
Imani comes in the room, takes the ironing board out of the closet, and says, “Mom, the potluck is in an hour—you didn’t forget, did you?”
“Of course not. I’ll be ready. Your dad will be home soon, and we’ll all walk over together.”
Imani looks at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the potluck?” She is standing at the ironing board with scissors in her hand, cutting an old shirt into a crop top to wear with a new long, flowing skirt she bought last week.
This is an event for family, and I am her cousin-sister-friend, so I should be there. I finish helping Aunt Ebony and get up and head to my room to change into something more presentable and say to Imani, “Don’t leave without me.”
The potluck is happening at the Countee Cullen Library. It looks so different from the night of the talent show. The lights are bright, and there are long tables on two sides of the room covered with all the food families have brought. In the middle of the room are round tables, covered with tablecloths with small succulent plants in the middle as centerpieces. Aunt Ebony brought drinks and chips and dip, said it was too hot to cook. We get there just as it’s starting. Ms. Lori is at the front of the room. “Can I get everyone’s attention, please? Everyone, can I get your attention?” A hush moves through the crowd, and once it is quiet, Ms. Lori says, “I just wanted to welcome you all to our first—and hopefully annual—Inspire Harlem family potluck. We’re here today to connect, eat some good food, and honor our teen community leaders. Please feel free to help yourselves to the delicious feast that’s been prepared, and we’ll get started with the awards ceremony shortly.”
I’m not sure if we should clap or not—a few people offer applause but most of us just start heading to the food tables. I survey the crowd to see if Tye is here yet. He is not.
But Toya is.
I see her in line making her plate, talking with Lynn, who is pouring the pineapple juice Aunt Ebony brought into a cup. I don’t realize that I am actually staring at them, and so when Toya waves, I have to wave back because I can’t pretend I don’t see her. They walk over to me, and Toya says, “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Like I would have told her.
“Yeah, wanted to come support Imani.”
Toya stands there as if she expects me to say more. Then, I see Sadie walking over, a big smile on her face. “Hey, girl,” she says as she wraps her arms around me. “My mom and dad are over there with your family, you coming?” She points across the room to Aunt Ebony and Uncle Randy. We fix our plates and head over there, waving bye to Toya and Lynn. Just as I am walking over to get a seat, I see Tye come in. He is with his mom, and he is looking across the room, his eyes searching. Is he looking for me? Is he hoping I’m here . . . ​hoping I’m not here? My heart aches, and even though this food looks so good, I don’t want to eat it anymore.
He doesn’t see me.
I sit down, try to act normal when Sadie’s mom asks how I’m doing. I don’t move out of this seat all afternoon. Sadie has gone back for seconds and brought me something to drink. She hasn’t asked why I’m not mingling. She knows.
The program starts, and it is moving along pretty quickly, no long speeches or special performances. Just Ms. Lori bringing up each Inspire Harlem teen one by one so they can receive their certificate while she says some nice words about them. For Imani, she says, “This young lady is beyond dedicated. She is the first to arrive, the last to leave, and she is willing to take the lead or work behind the scenes.” We all clap as Imani takes the certificate. I snap a photo, but it probably won’t look too good because I have to zoom in so much, I am sure it is blurry and pixelated.
Then, Ms. Lori says, “Now this next person is the newest member of Inspire Harlem, and I just can’t see our community without him. He’s a compassionate and patient individual. And what I love most is that he leads by example. Mr. Tye Brown, please come to the stage.”
We all clap, and when Tye makes it to the stage, he hugs Ms. Lori, then looks out into the audience, and that’s when our eyes connect. He sees me, and he doesn’t look away.
Once the potluck is over, everyone stands around talking and no one is leaving even though the custodial staff have come and started cleaning. Tye and his mother are talking with Asher’s family, who are just a table away. It’s so hard to be this close to him without speaking to him, without reaching out to hug him. I go outside, stand against the brick wall, and pretend to be looking for something on my phone. And then I hear him; he must have followed me out here.
“I miss you,” he says.
I turn around, and he is right there, so close I can feel the heat from his body. “I miss you too.”