I nod and quickly tap mine to hers, afraid she won’t let go if I lock them. “Pinky promise.”
“All right,” she says. “And don’t worry, I won’t cramp your style with your coolnewfriends.”
I shoot her a look, but it just makes her laugh harder. As she turns the corner, I speed-walk to the fried Oreos. I don’t know how much time has passed, but it feels like way too much. When I get to her, Deanna is grabbing a container from the person behind the stand. I slow myself to a normal walk.
“You okay?” she asks when she sees me.
I’m not. “Yeah,” I lie, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
She blows on an Oreo and holds it up to me. The smell ofoil and sugar snaps me back to the carnival, and to Deanna. I eat the whole cookie as she watches, waiting for my reaction.
“I mean,” I say, purposely trying to confuse her, “… I could eat a million of these.”
She slaps my arm for making her wait. “I guess we’re buying the stand, then!” She stuffs an Oreo in her mouth.
I try to push the swirling thoughts and questions out of my head. Deanna doesn’t seem to notice anything off and I don’t want to ruin our day by calling her attention to it. I just told her there was nothing to worry about, and now this.
“Oh, the girls!” she shrieks and points at the group, who are waving at us and yelling something.
I take a deep breath and wave back at these girls who represent the carefree future I could have ahead of me, if I can only let go of the past.But what if the past can’t let go ofme?
I shake the thought off and remind myself what matters now:this.
Deanna grabs my hand and smiles. “Ready for more?”
I nod and let her lead me away.
Then
Laundry/Linens, Amari’s note reads. I crumple it up and throw it in the trash. She stashed the note behind the tissue holder in the last bathroom stall, which is our usual hiding spot on the weekends. During the week, we can just pass them in hallways between classes.
Everyone else is in the rec room and I know Ms. Kim is waiting for me. I wash my hands quickly, then head back. Amari looks up from her magazine and we make eye contact for a second. I look away when Ms. Kim calls my name.
“Jasmine, sit next to Tanya,” she says.
Tanya starts to protest but gives up when Ms. Pat steps out of the office. “Loser,” she whispers to me.
“Jerk,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything else.
Ms. Pat tapes the large chore chart to the office window. I put my hand on my knee, getting ready to raise it before anyone else.Laundry/Linensis first on the list.
“We’re doing something a little different this weekend, ladies,” Ms. Pat announces.
The room erupts in a collective groan. “Always so grateful, right?” she asks Ms. Kim.
“Unbearably.” Ms. Kim laughs.
Ms. Pat writes Amari’s name next to the laundry category, then Tanya’s. The girls go silent. “To mix the cliques up, we’ve decided to assign the chores this time.”
Tanya clenches her teeth and starts shaking her leg so hard that I can feel it through my cushion. Amari is gripping the sides of her chair like she’s ready to jump out of it.
“I’m not doing shit with Amari,” Tanya says.
“Excuse me?” Ms. Kim walks over to our couch. “Want to try that again?”
Tanya clears her throat.
