Another D for DeeDee

by Bibi Belford

  “Nope,” says Danny. “I’ll be there.”

  “Awesome saucesome,” I say. I’m glad River’s not mad anymore. And I’m glad I can learn from my mistakes.

  River gives us the salute and goes home.

  “Maybe I’ll text Freddie,” says Danny. “He used to hang out there all the time.”

  “Do you still have his number? I thought you weren’t friends anymore,” I say.

  “I haven’t talked to him in a year. Maybe he’s different. Maybe we’re both different.”

  “Maybe he knows something about Papi. His uncle used to ride with Papi everyday.”

  Danny takes a deep breath and nods his head. “True. He used to be a good friend. Amistades verdaderas, mantienen las puertas abiertas. Always keep your door open for a true friend. Did you know it’s a song?” says Danny. “Want me to sing it?”

  Danny can’t sing. And I mean, really can’t sing. “Does a bear poop in the house?” I say, and he laughs.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  D IS FOR DISASTER

  The sleepover starts at six tonight. I have pins and needles poking me all over. And I feel like a window blind. One minute I’m open and brightly excited and the next I’m dark and moody and want to stay home. River pops by after school and still thinks I’m highly illogical for even wanting to go.

  Danita puts on her playlist to get my mind off things. She teaches River a few more dance steps for one of the ballads. Not “El Vals De La Mariposa.” That’s the one Danny might have to do for Papi.

  “Come on, DeeDee,” says Danny. “Let’s show these two how it’s done.”

  When the song ends, both River and Danny clap. “Gordita, you’re really a good dancer. Why don’t you dance instead of skateboard for that Spring Thing at your school?” Danny asks.

  “Yah,” says River. “You’ll get my vote.”

  I hit my head with my hand. “You guys don’t know anything. They’ll never pick me. They only choose the best from each grade.”

  “But you could do these dances. Nobody knows how to do these dances.”

  “You should do it,” says Daniel. “If you do it, I’ll come.”

  “You won’t have to. They won’t pick me.”

  “Well, you should try,” say Danny and River, at the exact same time.

  I go pack. And unpack. Then pack again. I pack two pairs of underwear. Then I add three more, just in case. I pack my stretchy yoga pants and a T-shirt to sleep in. All my other pajamas are disgusting. Except for the princess ones, and remember, they’re too babyish. Danita tries to help. She puts outfits together. I shake my head. I put outfits together. She shakes her head.

  “DeeDee, OMG. Your belly. You can’t wear that belly shirt!” Danita tells me.

  “I like this shirt.”

  “Here, wear my Fashion Fifteen shirt.” She hands me a shirt that looks as transparent as bread wrapping.

  “Everything will show!” I hold it up to my chest.

  “You have to wear a cami, silly,” she says and throws me a strappy little shirt.

  I put it on and suck in my belly.

  “That’s cute,” Danita says.

  “DeeDee,” calls Mami. “Danny is waiting.”

  At the last minute I grab my teddy bear and stuff it down, down, down deep in my bag. I will only get it out if I have to. I put my new-to-me cell phone in my pocket.

  Mami kisses me. “Do you have things for your diabetes?”

  Mami can’t remember the names and I’m tired of telling her. Lancing device. Glucometer. “Yes,” is all I say.

  “Daniel will bring me to the house,” she says. “Midnight. Remember. To check you.”

  Did I mention that in the middle of every night Mami checks my blood sugar? I used to wake up, but now I sleep right through it. I’m horrified that Mami has to come to the sleepover. I begged to set an alarm and do it myself. She says Nancy’s mom promised not to tell the girls. But can I trust Nancy’s mom? I don’t know.

  Danny is good at directions. He finds Nancy’s house right away. He parks in front. I get out. He gets out.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Walking you to the door.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s what guys are supposed to do.”

  I giggle. He carries my bag. I carry my rolled-up quilt.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  I’m so nervous, I only manage to giggle again. I tell myself I’m Dina Dee.

  “If you want to come home, call my cell phone.”

  “What if you’re sleeping?”

  “Call. No matter what.”

  It’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen. The garage is attached to the house.

  “They must be rich,” I whisper.

  “Or loaded with debt,” Danny whispers back.

  “What’s debt?”

  “Never mind.”

  The door opens. Nancy and Sherie gawk at Danny. Their mouths hang open.

  “My brother, Daniel,” I say. They look ridiculous.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” says Nancy after she closes the door. “Does he go to Northlake High?”

  “He’s so cute,” says Sherie. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  See what I mean? Ridiculous.

  We go downstairs to a room with a humongous TV and two big comfy couches, the kind with the pop-up foot rests. Nicole and Samantha are already lounging. I see sleeping bags spread out over the carpeting.

  “We’re going to sleep in the family room so we can stay up really late. Is that your sleeping bag?” Nancy asks me, in a tone that means she can’t believe I brought a blanket instead.

  I hate that tone. But I’m Dina Dee, so I say, “I’ll have you know I take this blanket to all my sleepovers. It’s haunted by the spirit of my madrina.”

  “Oooh. Can I sleep next to you?” Sherie moves her sleeping bag and Snufflebunny to the end and I lay out my faded, purple-and-pink plaid, haunted quilt.

  I’m sure you’ve been to plenty of sleepovers, so you know better than me what happens. Eat. Laugh. Burp. Giggle. Eat some more. Put on movies and talk right over them. Play games and stop in the middle to do something else. Nancy’s mom tries hard to push the carrots and cheese sticks and I’m polite, but I eat plenty of Doritos, too. The kind from the purple bag. Spicy Sweet Chili. I’m in love with those and you know Mami doesn’t buy them anymore.

  I eat a handful or two of M&Ms. Sneaky, so nobody sees. Oh, and five pieces of pizza. Nicole eats six, but then she barfs. We keep the lights out when we dance. Turns out I’m very good at Dance Forever Nation and I get the highest score, plus add my name to the top challengers, and even though I feel sort of foggy and tired, I’m having a great time.

  Everybody puts on their pj’s. Nancy and Sherie have matching silky robes outlined with white fur, but I feel okay in my yoga pants and T-shirt after I see Nicole’s pink, ruffly, babyish nightgown and Samantha’s stretched-out, faded pj bottoms. We wiggle into our floor beds.

  “I’ve got a ghost story,” Nancy says in a fake spooky voice. “Ready, everybody?

  She tells a stupid story about a ghost dripping blood, ending with a man saying, ‘Hey, you need a Band-Aid.’ Then she laughs, a seal-bark laugh, over and over. I don’t laugh. It’s not even funny. Nancy is getting on my nerves, more than ever.

  “I’ve got a scary one.” I make my voice low and shaky. I tell the story about the hook murderer that Danita and Andrea taught me. Just before the story ends I ask, “Guess what’s attached to the car door handle?” I wait for dramatic effect.

  “THE HOOK!” I reach into my blanket, pull out the hanger that Danita and Andrea made into a hook, and poke Nancy’s arm with it.

  Everyone grabs onto everybody else and screams. Loud. The way I imagine a pig squeals when they’re turning him into bacon.

  “Oh My Gosh. That was soooooo good!” Nicole says.

  “That gives me an idea,” says Nancy. “Let’s play Boyfriend.”

  Sherie groans
but Nancy keeps talking.

  Sherie whispers to me, “She always wants to play Boyfriend. She’s boy crazy.”

  “I don’t know how to play,” I whisper back. My head is aching and I just want to go to sleep. I pull my teddy bear from my bag and hold him tight.

  “You’ll see.”

  It turns out to be the stupidest game I’ve ever played. You have to make up a sentence using a boy’s name and the words on the dice. I go last and Nancy chooses River for my boyfriend. She might be the most annoying person I’ve ever met.

  By the time Boyfriend is over, I feel super tired.

  “Are you okay?” Sherie nudges me.

  I’m very foggy. My brain is spongy. Remember. Remember. Remember. I sit up. My glucometer. I forgot to check. “What time is it?”

  Nancy answers, “Almost the witching hour. Midnight.”

  I pull my kit from my bag and, in the dark, I feel my way to the bathroom. I flip on the light. Cerulean wallpaper with orange paper lanterns and long black boats swims over me. Silver lamps with white shades balance on the sides of a silver mirror. Thin, whiter-than-white towels hang on polished silver racks and the way they’re folded makes me think they aren’t for wiping sweaty faces.

  I open the cabinet and find a tissue box. I’m shaky. Woozy. And so thirsty. I sit on the toilet and dab my face with tissues. I use at least twenty. I know my number will be high even before I check. And it is. Off the charts. Everybody is busy giggling hysterically as I tiptoe up the stairs.

  “Oh, I was coming down to get you,” says Nancy’s mom.

  “You have a nice bathroom,” I tell her.

  “I enjoy playing at interior decorating.”

  I never knew anyone who did that before. Interior decorating. I might really like that. Putting colors together.

  “Oh, Dinora. Mija!” Mami says as I walk into the living room.

  I whisper the number to her then sit down. Mami does the math to be sure she gives me enough insulin. I will not pass out in Nancy’s living room. No I will not.

  “She need water.”

  Mrs. Wang rushes off and brings back a glass of water. I slurp and rub my eyes. Oh My Gatos. Why did I eat all that pizza? Mami taps the syringe and pulls up my T-shirt. “Porque no llevaste pijamas?”

  I don’t tell her why I’m not wearing pajamas. Mami thinks everything is a blessing. Every bag of used clothes. Every bargain at the thrift store. She doesn’t understand being fashionable. We wait, my head in Mami’s lap. Mrs. Wang standing statue-still, in her swooshy pajamas and fleecy robe, not one hair out of place. She doesn’t know what to say.

  “What color is it?” I ask Nancy’s mom, still thinking about the bathroom.

  “What color?” She’s confused. “Oh, the bathroom? Teal. Done in the chinoiserie style.”

  The word sounds so rich to me. I try to repeat it. “Cheenwasorry?”

  Nancy’s mom laughs. “Almost. Chinoiserie. It means in the old Chinese style.”

  Then Mami checks me again. “Need to check again. Maybe need more. Te quieres ir?”

  “No, don’t make me leave, Mami. Please. I’ll check, I promise.”

  “I can set my alarm,” says Mrs. Wang.

  Mami pushes herself off the couch and leans against the doorpost to put her shoes on. She seems very squatty and worn-out next to sleek and stylish Mrs. Wang. Like old sneakers next to brand new Nikes. Old sneakers that work hard all day and can’t even rest at night.

  I wonder if Mami feels out of place here. With her English that needs work. The same as me. With my broken insulin regulator. Coming from our too-many-people-and-too-few-beds apartment to this too-many-rooms-and-too-few-people house. I don’t know, I decide. Maybe grownups learn to fit in, no matter where they go. Maybe they just accept that everyone’s different and they’re okay with it. I jump up and hug Mami tight.

  “Te quiero, I love you,” she breathes into my hair.

  “Te quiero más, I love you more,” I breathe back.

  “DeeDee! What are you doing?” Nancy is on the top of the steps. “We’re playing truth or dare. Come on.”

  My heart drops lower than my insulin, but I’m Dina Dee. “It’s a real nice bathroom.” I tell Nancy’s mom on my way past her. “Cerulean I think. A cross between Indigo and Aquamarine.” Mrs. Wang stares at me and I follow Nancy downstairs.

  “Why—” Nancy starts to ask but I bounce in front of her and catapult into the mess of sleeping bags, knocking Sherie over.

  “Your turn,” Sherie tells me.

  “Truth,” I say. My nose wrinkles remembering the coffee grounds from playing this game with Danita and Andrea.

  I know they’ve already decided what truth they want me to tell. Nancy blurts it out fast. “You have to tell us a secret about River.”

  My heart stops. Why can’t they just leave him alone? What has he ever done to them? I rack my brain for a secret that River wouldn’t mind me telling. Definitely not about his toes. I promised him.

  “What’s the dare?” I feel panicked. Like a lamb trapped by wolves.

  “You have to call River,” says Sherie. “And we need to hear his voice.”

  My brain is whirling. Maybe River’s mom will answer. But I know she won’t. Maybe River won’t answer. But I know he will. He told me he sets his phone on vibrate and keeps it under his pillow for emergencies. And he’ll worry that I’m calling in the middle of the night. He’ll worry about me. He’ll worry because he’s my friend.

  You know that green feeling just before you throw up? Well that’s the feeling in my stomach while I lie on the itchy rug in my haunted quilt, wishing I could go home and knowing I’m too chicken.

  “I have to pee first,” I say and streak into the bathroom still carrying my diabetes kit. I pull out my phone and text Danny.

  Me: Are you awake?

  Why?

  I need help.

  I’m coming to get you.

  Me: No. Not that kind of help.

  What?

  Can you pretend to be River’s voice? In a minute.

  I quickly create a new contact with Danny’s number and River’s name and delete Danny’s old contact, the way River showed me.

  I flush the toilet and wash my hands with the fluffy-foamy soap, but I let my hands drip-dry as I head back to the family room.

  “What took so long?” Nancy asks. “Did you decide? Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.” I punch the number and put it on speaker. Ring. Ring.

  “It’s okay.” Nicole reassures me. “He’s probably got his phone on silent.”

  Ring. Ring.

  “Then you’ll have to tell us a truth,” taunts Nancy.

  “Hello.” I hear a familiar voice, but it’s not Danny. Ah-ha! It’s Danita. Danny is so smart. He figured out they would recognize his deep voice. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Everything will be okay. I can keep my promise to River and hold my own with the wolves.

  “Hello?” Danita says again. “Who is this? DeeDee?”

  “Okay?” I hold the phone up and show River’s contact picture.

  “Hey,” says Nancy. She points at the number under River’s name. “That’s not River’s number. I looked in your contacts before. You tricked us.” She flashes her phone in my face. “I’m calling your boyfriend.”

  “No. Stop it.” I lunge for her phone and she swings her arm away from me. I grab the fur on the edge of her silky robe to pull her closer and there’s a ripping sound.

  “You ripped my robe,” Nancy screams.

  “Hang up!” I scream back. “I’ll tell a truth.”

  “You don’t have to, DeeDee,” says Samantha, in a surprisingly loud voice. “It’s okay.”

  “Everybody knows you’re a liar.” Nancy scoots away from me, stroking the fur on the ripped edge of her robe as if it’s a kitten. “Your whole illegal immigrant family lies.”

  Suddenly it’s quiet. Quiet like the doctor’s office. Quiet like the library. Quiet like waiting for a firecracker to ex
plode.

  I stand up, and squeeze my fingernails into my palms. Here’s what I’m thinking: I hate you. All of you. But you will not beat me. All their eyes stare at me, like I’ve bewitched them.

  “Oh yah? You don’t know anything about my family. We’re just as legal as you. And here’s your truth. River has four toes. That’s it. Four toes. They put his big toe for his thumb. And he’s my neighbor. Not my friend. Just my neighbor. That’s all. Happy now?”

  Then from another world away we hear a faint voice. “DeeDee. What’s happening? Who’s there? DeeDee, can you hear me?”

  I lift up sleeping bags until I see the screen of my phone. River’s face smiles up at me but Danita’s voice squeaks questions from the speaker. I stare at Nancy, burning her with my hate.

  “Tell Danny to pick me up,” I scream into the phone. “Now.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  D IS FOR DEAF

  Nicole helps me roll up my blanket. Sherie pats Nancy’s back. Samantha tells me to stay, but I don’t answer. Mrs. Wang wants to know what’s wrong. When I see Danny’s car I run outside and jump in. I take deep breaths, like I’ve been underwater and just came up to the surface.

  “What happened?” Danny asks, and I tell him the whole story.

  “It’s hard to fit in sometimes,” he says. “I dropped out to because it was just easier to be with the drop-out group. But it was like Papi said about the wolves. It’s not worth trying to be accepted by some groups.”

  Danny steers with one hand. His tattoo peeks from the cuff of his jacket, just the swirls and the tip of the arrow, as if the arrow is trying to escape. At the stoplight, he puts his arm around me. I see two little lines between his eyebrows. Worry lines. His face—half dark and half light in the night reflection. His eyes—both sad and kind.

  “DeeDee, maybe truth or dare can teach us both a lesson. Accept who we are and dare to stand up for ourselves and not trade the truth for other people, no matter what. Before it’s too late. Before we lose good friends and disappoint people who love us.”

  “Like River and Papi?”

  “Yah, like River and Papi,” he says and the light turns green. “But I think River will forgive you.”