Her eyes widened in surprise and I laughed loudly. “Just kidding. She’s really good at social media. And looking good in clothes. And…”
“Having good taste?” Rose ventured. I looked at her sharply for signs of sarcasm, but she seemed genuine. A sly expression crossed her face. “I mean, she must. She hooked up with your dad.”
“ROSE!”
She cackled and the awkwardness quickly dissipated. I fanned myself with a paper plate and asked, “Are both your parents lawyers? I forget.”
She nodded. “Yeah. My dad has his own law firm. My mom’s a prosecutor. She got kind of big a few years ago when—”
“That police-beating case.”
Rose raised her eyebrows. “Wow. You know about that?”
“It was all over the news, hello.”
“Says the girl who hates NPR.”
“I didn’t say IhatedNPR. It just doesn’t exactly pump me up for work.”
She smiled. “Okay, whatever. Anyway. My mom became this community figure. She got to meet MichelleObama.”
“I’m not even kidding, that’s a life dream of mine,” I said, my voice high with excitement.
“You and every human being who isn’t garbage,” she said. “Anyway, so that’s my mom. She was on the cover of magazines; people wanted to interview her. And then there’s me.”
I frowned. “What about you? You’re basically Joanne Jr.”
She shook her head firmly. “I wish.”
“Whoa. Rose Carver doesn’t think she’s good enough? What are the rest of us subpar humans supposed to do now? Might as well give up and jump off a cliff.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m serious.”
“So am I! You’re basically on track to become the president of the United States of America.”
I could tell she was pleased by that for a second. “The point is that there’s a lot of pressure on black girls to bebetterthan everyone else anyway. And then add to that the fact that my mom is who she is. You don’t even know how aware I am of how I look and actall the time. I don’t have the luxury of rolling out of bed and acting like a little jerk like you do every day.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean. Like, I can’t just run errands wearing cruddy sweatpants and not do my hair.”
I squinted at her. “I understand what you mean, but you would still look like a celebrity doing a coffee run inUsmagazine.”
Someone rapped on the window. “Hey, are you guys open?”
Rose hopped off the counter and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Hi there, what would you like to order?”
Reluctantly, I dragged myself back up to the griddle, but before I turned it on, I made a sugarcane juice with less sugar and more lime, and filled it with ice until the plastic cup frosted over.
“Here,” I said, holding it out to Rose.
She startled, then took it from me. “Oh. Thanks, Clara.”
“And keep doing what you do. The first woman president has to happen in my lifetime, or I’m going to light this entire planet on fire.”
Rose laughed, her teeth straight and perfect, and I turned back to the griddle to hide my own smile.
CHAPTER 13
