Her eyes are bright. “I am.” She loops a strand of hair behind her ear, which makes me feel nostalgic. Fondly remembering something that once was, but knowing it never will be again. “What about you?” she asks. “You gotta tell me you’re getting out of here.”
I shrug. “Hattie needs me. She’s on bed rest, and things are only going to get worse when the baby comes.”
“Ro, it’s not like you’re the dad or anything.”
A laugh sputters from my mouth. “I know that.”
She’s quiet for a moment before she clears her throat.“You shouldn’t pay for her mistakes.”
Her mother steps into the door frame. “You girls okay? Can I get you anything before I head up?”
“No thanks, Mom,” Grace says in an amused voice.
Her mother turns to me. “So good to see you, Ramona. And that hair!” She shakes her head. “You and your hair are like some kind of a fixture here in this sweet little town!”
I force my mouth into a smile as I pull one of my two braids over my shoulder.
“Nice to see you, too, ma’am.”
I wait for a moment until I hear her mother’s footsteps overhead. “I’m not paying for her mistakes,” I finally say. “She’s family. She’s my sister, and she needs me.”
She lets out an exhausted sigh. “You let yourself die on that cross, Ramona. But the only thing keeping you in this town is fear of the unknown.”
Silence sinks slowly between us. There was so much I loved about Grace, but I am so irritated at how she’s walked back into my life and has decided that she suddenly knows how to live it better than I do.
“I know what it’s like to be scared,” she says, her voice low. “Life will always be scary, but you can decide not to live in fear.”
I can’t listen to her lecture me about fear. “I should go.” I stand. “I have an early morning.”
Grace follows me to the door. “I didn’t mean for us to end on that note.”
I turn with my hand on the doorknob. “I know. I’m glad we ran into each other.”
“Me too,” says Grace. “You changed me. You inspired me to step out and be the real me. You pushed me to become that person, and...” She takes a deep breath. “It’s not like coming out fixed everything for me. In fact, it made a lot of things more complicated. But I’ll always be grateful to you, Ramona.” She leans in and gently kisses my cheek.
My anger softens at her touch. “I’m really glad you saw me at the parade,” I tell her.
“Yeah?” Her lips twist into an uneven smile. “Me too.”
As I ride my bike home, all of Eulogy is still awake and buzzing with life. I want so badly to feel all the joy around me, but I can’t.
MARCH
THIRTY-NINE
Freddie wasn’t in school today. I try not to keep tabs on him, but I’m thankful for his absence. It’s been two weeks since Fat Tuesday, and every day at school has been torturous. For once, I don’t feel like I want to contort myself into a ball and hide away in my locker.
Everyone moves past me at lightning speeds to vacate the school in time for spring break, but I take my time getting to the bike rack. All that’s waiting for me this spring break is more work and a few trips to the baby store with Hattie.
“Ramona!” calls a voice behind me. “Ramona!”
I backtrack to find the source and don’t have to go far. “Oh, hey,” I say. “Allyster, right?”
“You remembered.” His voice is neither surprised nor bitter, but factual. His hair is gelled into a hard spiky shell, and today he is wearing long denim shorts and a black T-shirt that says:The Dark Side Made Me Do It. “So listen,” he says. “You missed the deadline for senior page firstdrafts. I need some pictures of you and whatever you want your page to say.”
“Here’s the deal: someone bought me that page as, like, a gift, and I’m not really interested, ya know? So take the money as a donation and we can call it good. Cool?”
His face is unmoving. “What? Like, you think it’s uncool or something?” He pulls his backpack straps tight against his shoulders like a pair of suspenders. “I guess you can tell your grandkids you were too cool when they ask why you don’t have a senior page in your yearbook, right? You can do what you want,” he says in exasperation. “I mean, we were really striving for a hundred percent participation this year, but I’m not going to chase you all over town trying to get this from you. You have until the end of April to get it to me, but you’ve already missed the proofreading window, so it better be clean.”
