She wipes my face. Wipes away the tears, the snot, and whatever else sticks.
“You don’t care that I’m gay?” I ask, because that’s what scared me most. I feel a little lightheaded as she shakes her head.
“Don’t do drugs, stay out of trouble, do well in school, date whoever you like. That was the only thing I ever said to you.”
I’m crying again, body jerking forward as the tears spill. Mama pulls me into her arms. I never thought the conversation would happen this way.
“I love you so much, I just want you to be happy,” she says quietly.
You too, Ma. I want you to be so happy.
I check my text messages when I’m in my room, after I sat with my ma for what felt like hours. I’m seated on the bed with my brothers, who are watching some cartoon and arguing. The sound of slaps and yells agitates me.
I checked your messages when you were asleep, that’s how I knew about computer 17. I’m sorry, I just wanted to help.—T
It’s okay.
I’m not sure if it is okay, I’m not sure if I trust him anymore or if that excuse is even real, but I’m too tired to be angry at him. Besides, he’s my only real friend right now.
Sorry again.—T
The memory of us in the middle school playground replays over and over in my mind, then the memory of us kissing, how nice it felt. Terrell holding my face, kissing me like kissing me was a good thing… Followed by blinding pain my brain won’t even allow me to remember in full. But I see their fists, I hear them shout. And I know in that moment that kissing me is bad, very bad. I feel dirty. They made me feel so fucking dirty.
And then I’m on the beach, the sand getting in my sneakers, the waves calling out to me. The water crashing violently, with its arms wide open. The sea is so perfect to me, it makes me feel at peace—but it’s nothing like that, not in the slightest. It’s chaotic, it swallows lives and people. The waves scream, hit, beat the sand down, like the sand is an abomination. And even though the sea is this monster, I’m drawn to its chaos. I grew up on that shit. That chaotic shit. It’s all I recognize.
My pa and his major fuckup, my ma and her fuckups—with her messy, abusive boyfriends who left us when her clothes would burst from her swollen belly—to me and my fuckups. My everyday fuckups.
And so, I stepped into the sea, let it pull me in. Give me that familiar familial fucked-up embrace.
My phone dings and Chiamaka’s name pops up.
Where are you?—C
I go off my and Terrell’s chat screen and to Chiamaka’s. I have so many messages from her.
My brothers jostle me as they begin to wrestle.
“If you guys don’t stop, I’m gonna tell Ma, and you two will get your asses beat,” I say, which immediately stills them, as always. Ma isn’t even a scary person; she hardly beat me as a child, and shedoesn’t beat them. But Ma has this look, one that makes you think she could whoop your ass without hesitation.
I refocus my mind on texting Chiamaka back.
I left school early, I tried calling but you didn’t answer.—D
Because I dropped my phone in Morgan last night, only just got it back at lunch. Anyway, I know how the girl I saw yesterday and Aces and Niveus are connected. I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. I need to do something. And then we need to talk.—C
It’s been a rough day, and to be honest, I don’t have the energy to talk about this or anything right now, but I guess I have no choice. There isn’t any time to waste. And I want to hear about the gaps in this crazy reality, how everything is connected.
Understanding what’s going on is the only way to stop it.
Okay.—D
I text, forgetting to ask her when she wants me to arrive. I start tapping out another reply, but I’m interrupted again by the buzz of my phone, followed by a text tone that makes my heart skip and my brain fuzz.
Wind chimes.
32
CHIAMAKA
