Yeah, things at my house are, uh
well, let’s just say strained.
Still haven’t told them?
Nope. And also, they’ve just been kinda off—
they’ve had some marital issues in the past and I thought
it was getting better, but I don’t know.
I’m probably just being paranoid.
That’s hard. I’m sorry.
But I know you’ll find the right time to tell them.
Yeah.
I nod
and then because
I don’t know what else to say
I pull Lyric back into my arms.
We sway along to one more track
no cameras or eyes on us.
Just the two of us
creating a whole new story
with our movement.
CHAPTER 21Lyric
LIP OF THE DAY:
Very Cherry
I am five or six, and Mama and I are in some big city, Chicago maybe. I’m bundled up in every coat and sweatshirt I own because it’s Christmas Eve. We are looking at the lights and trees downtown. We’ve been staying at some shelter in a big, drafty church, but only really to sleep and use the facilities. Tonight, they prepared a special meal and Santa paid a visit, but after grabbing us a couple plates, Mama said we were leaving. “Santa is a scam,” she said as we ate our food outside in the freezing cold, before starting our trek to explore the city. I know Santa isn’t real, but I also know that he brings presents and I’d like a present. We walk, and Mama goes on and on about the “capitalist scam” of the season, how “we don’t need more stuff—just basic rights,access to food, water, shelter, mental health support, etc.” I don’t really understand half of her ramblings, but I know she’s not stopping anytime soon, and so I hold her hand and try to keep up with her pace as we do our exploring. Mama says the good thing about not having a home is that our home can be anywhere—“and isn’t that an adventure! Most kids don’t even get to travel at all until they are adults!” she says. “We can learn so much about being in the world by exploring and taking advantage of the free things cities have to offer like museums and libraries. We don’t need all that extra crap!” Mama’s grip on my hand grows tighter and tighter, her pace faster and faster, and I want to ask her to slow down. I want to stop and actually look at the lights, to see if maybe, just maybe, she’s wrong and I might catch a glimpse of a sleigh in the sky. I am five or six, but I know in my body that Mama needs me to follow her, to not complain or ask for things we don’t have. So, we walk and walk and walk, until all I know is the sound of her voice, the blur of lights mixed with a heavy snow that’s begun to fall, and a door deep in my heart, closing against any hope of a gift waiting for me in the morning.
Besides our movie night on Monday, I don’t see Juniper for the rest of the work week leading up to Christmas. Between signing up for additional holiday shifts at work, taking care of Grammy, shooting beauty tutorials, and trying to get enough sleep, it’s almost impossible to meet up. Despite all of this, we manage to text throughout each day, and I begin to lose track of where we are in our “Operation Holiday Fling” because things are starting to feel, well, real. I can’t stop thinking about movie night. How, despite my anxiety about her seeing my home with Grammy and making some judgment, she fitright in and made the space even cozier. How she pulled me in for that dance—I just let it happen, not questioning if it was corny or stupid. Juniper’s grounded energy is disarming—catches me off guard—and I find myself slipping away from the walls I’ve built toward some kind of new way of being.
Even now, as I set up my vanity for a look I need to film using some new products, I am humming that Ella and Louis song. It’s late—ten p.m. Saturday, December 23rd—but once this tutorial is done, I can truly take a couple days off from content creation. Juniper and I just have one more sponsorship to fulfill, but that’s New Year’s Eve–themed, so we’ve got some time to figure it out. I picked up our half ham today, and tomorrow I just have to get through my Aldi shift, and then it’s twenty-four hours of hanging with the people I love and sleep—glorious sleep.
I slip onto my vanity stool, test the lighting, and hit record.
“Hey, beauties! Merry Christmas Eve’s Eve. For those of you wanting to slay your holiday party and New Year’s looks, you’re gonna want torunto Ulta and pick up these gel eyeliners from Lollipop Beauty Shop. They retail for only $7.99 each and come in five duochrome, shifting colors. They are so beautiful and easy to apply for a simple yet high-impact eye moment. I’m going to use the color Silver Belles, which when I apply it at first looks ice blue, but then shifts to a gold lavender in the light. For this look, you’re going to want to just do your base routine however you like, then use the eyeliner to create a dramatic wing—”
Finally, I’m done with the look. I smize into the camera, and then lean forward so that the eyeliner on my eyelids catches the light. Then I pull back, hold up the products, and wave goodbye. I spend the next hour editing the footage and by 11:30 p.m. I’m done. I tag Lollipop Beauty Shop and Ulta, add my caption, and then postit. I’ve been so focused, I’ve hardly noticed the sudden chill in our apartment. We don’t turn our heat up past 68, but damn, I might just increase our thermostat by a couple degrees for tonight. Grammy will never know. As I finish adjusting the thermostat, my phone goes off with a text:
Juniper: Hey, sorry to text so late. You up?
Me: Yeah, I’m never in bed before midnight.
