“I’m off,” I say. “Have a good night’s rest.”
As I shut their door I hear Ellie’s voice. “Night, Cali. See you tomorrow.”
Before walking inside, I stop in front of my room to steady myself. All the blood has disappeared from my head. I feel like I might faint. Ellie saved me. Was it on purpose? Or on accident?
Now I feel like vomiting. Because I’ve lied. Majorly lied about my past. Having them discover that I’ve lied scares me to death, but I’m even more afraid of them learning the truth. Ever since I’ve been here I’ve been careful. Trying my best to be inconspicuous. I hadn’t anticipated someone like Annie Laurie would be my next-door neighbor, incessantly pressing me for information.
I slip quickly inside our door. Jasmine is on her bed rubbing cocoa butter on her legs. Her cell phone is charging on the bedside table, but she’s wearing the Bluetooth device that’s usually attached to her ear when she talks to Carl. When I walk in she waves. We’ve only lived together two weeks and I already know her Carl voice. It’s sultry. Dragged-out words. Lower tones.
First I grab my PJs from the chest under my bed, then move over to my closet for my robe and shower caddy. I’m not comfortable changing in our room. Jasmine, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. She strips down to nothing in front of me. The first time she did it I couldn’t help noticing the heart shape of her pubic hair. I know you aren’t supposed to stare, but the first time I saw it I was so caught off guardall I could dowas stare.
With my shower caddy, robe, and PJs in hand, I head down the hall to the bathroom. As I’m brushing my teeth, I look in the mirror and imagine myself as a sorority girl. I’ve literally been dreaming about it since I was twelve years old. Miss Mississippi made a special stop in Blue Mountain to visit our school. I remember her saying that she was in a sorority at Ole Miss and that she wanted to be governor one day. I can recall sitting in the gym, listening to her talk, and wanting to be just like her.
With the addition of Mrs. Woodcock’s I’ll have recs to seven out of the thirteen sororities. If I make it, I vow right here and now to be the best pledge in the sorority. I’ll become president. Then I’ll become a lawyer. And after that, just like many of our former state leaders who became Greek, I’ll be governor of the great state of Mississippi. The first lady governor, unless someone beats me to it, and then I’ll be the second.
Once back in my room, I grab my laptop out of my backpack and climb up onto my bed. Ellie’s email address is on my desk so I hop back down, grab the note, and do it all over again. Jasmine looks at me with confusion, and I point to the note in my hand. “Ellie’s email.”
After emailing her my rec packet, I type my mother’s name and info, “Jennifer Suellen Watkins Mississippi California,” into the search bar. Once I hit return, Google brings thousands of websites into view. I scroll down to the bottom of the first page, and do it again on the next ten pages before closing the window. There’s everything from obituaries to homicides to missing persons and adoption records for Suellens and Jennifers, but nothing on Jennifer Suellen Watkins in Mississippi or in California.
Satisfied, I close my laptop and put it in the drawer on my nightstand. After tucking my prayer stone inside my palm, I scoot underneath my covers and face the wall, rubbing my worries into the stone. Its cold texture matches the temperature of my heart as I picture my mom: long brown dreadlocks. Glazed blue eyes. Dark circles. Gross clothes.
I hear Jasmine tell Carl she has to go. And that she loves him. It makes me long for a boyfriend. I’d love to be hearing sweet words from the man of my dreams. But thoughts of my elusive prince are replaced with my new life at Ole Miss, thousands of miles away from my biological mother.
SEVENTEEN
WILDA
Somewhere far off I think I hear my phone ringing. When I slowly open my eyes, there’s a low light in the bedroom, and all I want to do is fall right back to sleep. But then a loud thunderclap jolts me out of grogginess. My cell phoneisringing. When I see seven on the clock I bolt up, lean over, and pick up my phone charging on the nightstand.Ellie.
“Heart,” I say, with a scratchy voice. “Is everything okay?” She’s never up this early. And her first class is not till nine.
“Of course it is. Why?”
“You don’t have class till nine and you love your sleep. Why in the world are you up?”
“I’vebeenup.” She sighs deeply. “Annie Laurie wakes up at six. To do her hair and makeup.” A small, sarcastic giggle follows. She’s not pleased.
“Maybe she’s got a cute boy in her first class.”
“Whatever. I wake up to the sound of her annoying blow dryer every morning.”
“How’s it going otherwise? Did you get all your homework done last night?” As soon as I hear my words I want to take them back. I’m trying not to hover.We had talked yesterday afternoon. And the day before that. I can’t keep myself from dialing her number once a day.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s easy here compared to high school.”
Ellie’s prep school education is actually paying off,I think.As it should.“That’s a relief.” From the angle of my bed, I can see the condensation on the panes through the crack in the curtains. Moist, opaque. The heat must be intolerable already.
“Hey, I need you to do something,” Ellie says.
I sit up, prop the pillow behind me. “Anything.” She’s been gone two weeks now, and the emptiness feels like I’ve been starving myself. To be needed feels like savoring a five-course dinner at Antoine’s.
“Remember Cali? Our next-door neighbor?”
“The one with the black roommate?”
“Mom.”
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I meant it as a qualifier. Not a description. Yes, I remember Cali.”
