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Get up, Junie, she says, pulling open my curtains.
Ah, it’s too bright!
I yell, rolling into my covers tighter.
Get up, Junie.
Mom’s voice is calm
but firm.
It’s time. You can be mad
at me and Mama
but this pity party
has to stop.
I’m fine,
I say from under my covers.
Just let me sleep in a little more.
Nope. Get your ass up,
Mom says, ripping off my covers.
I’m taking you to the barber.
You never take me,
I say.I can drive myself.
Well, I am today.
Let’s go.
Fine,
I groan.
Let me get ready.
You’ve got five minutes,
Mom says,then we’re leaving.
Somehow, I make it up
and out of the house.
My barber, Ahmed, is waiting for me
when Mom and I rush in.
I slide into his chairstill half asleep
