by Seven Steps
I smiled and gave him a hug too.
“Thank you, Cole.”
“Ah, there’s that recognition I’ve been waiting for.” He pulled away and looked deep in my eyes. His voice turned from New York City youth to a deep Russian accent. “Remember, if boy give you trouble, I make trouble for boy. Yes?”
I giggled. Cole’s father was Russian, though I never met him.
“Yes. But please don’t beat him up unless I ask you to.”
He shrugged. “It depends on boy.”
Then we laughed together, and he pulled me into another hug.
“This is really beautiful,” Sophia said. “I’ll have to make a list of boys to bring up here.”
“Yes, but our food should be a little bit different,” Purity said.
“What’s wrong with the food?” Eric asked.
“Oh nothing,” Purity said. “Just needs a little more flavor.”
He scowled. “The food was catered.”
“Oh, I know. I’m the one who let them in, remember?”
“Okay, guys,” Bella said. “Let’s wrap it up and move it out. We have a big day of meddling tomorrow.”
“Please, no meddling,” I said.
Bella winked at me. From her, the winking wasn’t so bad.
“My dear, the fire has been sparked. Now, to stoke the flames.”
11
I breezed through my front door on a high.
Andrew and I had finally had a decent conversation. He’d even asked for my number. This was like a dream. A beautiful, amazing dream I didn’t want to wake up from. And it was all because of my awesome friends.
I’d thought I didn’t want them to butt into my business. Now I realized it was okay to let them butt in from time to time.
Well, maybe more than that.
I slipped out of my shoes and padded across the floor toward my room. It was late, and I didn’t hear any screaming.
My parents must’ve finished their fight early and stormed out already.
I sighed.
Another night alone.
Was that how my parents felt? Alone? With all the screaming, I knew they heard each other, but did they listen?
I straightened my shoulders.
One thing was for sure. I would never be like them. When I got into a relationship, I wouldn’t just hear my significant other. I would listen to him. Really listen. And he would listen to me too. We’d never fall out of love because we’d never stop listening.
I wrapped my vow tightly around me and made a quick pass into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The kitchen was dark, like the rest of the apartment. Pale moonlight illuminated my way, making the apartment seem colder. Less a home and more a shell of what used to be a happy place.
That part made me sad. The memories of what used to be. Of smiles and laughs that’d faded so long ago, as if it were all a dream that’d disappeared at first morning light. Though I remembered every detail of those happier occasions, things had changed so drastically I sometimes doubted they’d even happened.
A golden age of the Patel dynasty that never was, but everyone remembered.
Our very own Mandela effect.
On the counter was a white sheet of paper with a list on it.
Perfume on clothes
Perfume in car
Hotel recipes
Receipts from department stores
I didn’t know what any of it meant. Some sort of to-do list? Was Mom buying new perfume? Or doing her taxes.
I shook my head, unscrewed the water bottle top, and took a long drink. Then, I heard it.
Crying.
Quiet.
Soft.
Like someone sobbing deep into a pillow.
I looked around the darkened apartment, searching for the source of the tears.
Who could be in here? Had Aunt Chi come to visit? Was Mom babysitting for someone? Had one of my brothers snuck a girl in here and left them high and dry?
I turned on the hallway light and headed into the large living room.
That was when I saw her.
My mother’s shoulders were hunched and trembling. Her thin arms wrapped around a couch pillow, her face pressed deep into the soft green fabric.
She hadn’t heard me come in and I didn’t announce myself.
I was frozen. Shocked into silence.
I’d never seen my mother cry before. When Grandpa died in December, she didn’t even shed a tear. She just left the funeral talking about refocusing. That was big with Mom. She was always refocusing her life.
Now, seeing her so vulnerable, made me uncomfortable. It was like watching Superwoman fall from the sky. If Mom was crying, then things weren’t just bad.
They were unfixable.
I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my pants and took a step inside of the living room. I’d never had to comfort my mother before. I didn’t even know where to start.
My heart raced.
What would she say? Would she tell me to go away? To leave her alone? Would she reject me in her obvious hour of need?
My stomach knotted with all the things that could go wrong.
Perhaps she wanted to be alone? Maybe she was like a wounded animal, ready to lash out at anything that came close? Even things that could help her. Would she be embarrassed? I know I felt a little embarrassed. Confused. Unsure.
But she was still my mother. And, even though we weren’t particularly close, it was my duty as her daughter to show up when she needed me.
Even if she didn’t know she needed me yet.
I slowly walked around the couch and slid into the seat next to her. Then, I put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to me.
Seamlessly, she transferred her tears from the pillow to my shoulder, and all at once, I felt them in my soul. Like each drip of water was beating on my insides, making me want to cry too.
I closed my eyes and made a shushing sound, like she’d done to me so many years ago. My mother was completely falling apart, and all I could do was rock her gently and pray she’d be okay.
What happened? Was this because of one of her and Daddy’s fights? Were they finally calling it quits after all these years?
I wasn’t happy about that prospect. I always thought that somehow, someway, they’d find a way to stay together. But lately, it seemed like things were getting worse, and it scared me.
“You’ll be all right,” I said. “Everything will be all right.”
It’s a strange feeling, holding your mother in your arms and telling her things will be all right. One, because it’s a lie. I had no idea if whatever she was going through would be all right or not. And two, because she was my mother. She was supposed to hold the world together, not allow it to break her.
What happened?
“Promise me you’ll be successful,” she whispered. “Become a doctor and leave this house and never rely on anyone. You hear me. Never ever rely on any man ever. Promise me.”
I swallowed. I didn’t believe all the words she said, but if Mom needed these words to find some comfort tonight, I would give them to her.
“I promise,” I whispered.
She didn’t say anything else to me. Only sobbed harder. After a while, I cried too. And then, at some point, we both lay back onto the couch and fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms like children searching for their mother in the night.
Only I wasn’t so sure who was the mother now.
And who was the child.
12
I walked into school the next morning, exhausted and a little off-kilter.
When I woke up that morning, Mom had disappeared, leaving me on the couch covered by a thick blanket. The only sign she’d been there at all was a note she’d left on the coffee table.
Sorry about last night. That’s what happens when you’re too strong for too long. At some point the pressure becomes too much and then you fall apart. Thank you for being there to catch me.
Remember, never trust a man with your happin
ess. Men hold fast to it, and when they’re gone they take it with them. Trust in yourself and you will never be let down.
Mom
I kept the words with me as I climbed onto the train that morning. Held them close to my heart as I walked through the doors of the school. Remembered them as I cast my eyes onto the once white, primed walls, now marred with yellow, black, and red spray paint.
Directly in the middle of the right-side wall were seven words:
Give me liberty or give me death.
Patrick Henry would have rolled over in his grave.
Anger bubbled in my chest, rose into my face, and colored my cheeks blood red.
“Um, is that part of your mural?” Ariel asked.
“No. This was done by a degenerate who’s trying to sabotage me,” I growled.
It was Ollie. It had to be. He was trying to get out of painting the mural, so he graffitied all over the walls so I would hate him enough to let him go.
How could he do this to me? Didn’t he know what was at stake?
“You know who did this?” Bella asked.
“Oliver Santiago. Guaranteed.”
It was at that very second that I realized I’d had it. If Ollie wanted me to hate him, he’d succeeded. I hated him, and it was time to cut my losses and let him go before he cost me everything.
I stomped away, leaving behind my stuttering friends, and headed straight to the principal’s office.
Mom was right. Never depend on a man for anything.
13
I pushed my lunch tray down over the silver bars, picking up my usual items as I went.
My mood had sunk to an all-time low.
First the note from my mom.
Then Ollie’s graffitiing.
Then Mr. Mann who basically said there was no proof Ollie had done anything, so he couldn’t punish him. I tried to bring up the incident where he’d destroyed the display, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He wouldn’t hear me, no matter how much I screamed and railed.
I was stuck.
Again.
How could he say he didn’t know the graffitier was Ollie? It was the same Ollie who didn’t want to do the mural in the first place. Did he not get the liberty reference? All it was missing was an official signature. But, because the security cameras were conveniently not working, there was nothing Mr. Mann could do except talk to Ollie, which was the same as saying he could do nothing.
I hoped against hope Ollie decided to not show up at two-thirty today or ever again. I couldn’t take one more second of him. I’d ignored him in art and I planned on doing the exact same thing in chemistry. Ollie and I were done. Operation Freeze Out was back on.
“Hey.”
A familiar voice sounded from next to me, and I turned to it with a smile.
“Andrew. Hey.” He looked especially dashing today. His blond hair was slicked back, and he wore a pressed, white dress shirt with jeans and dress shoes.
God, I loved a well-dressed man.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Great. Just, grabbing some salad.” I gestured to the food on my tray and tried to keep the blush from my cheeks.
“Healthy girl. I like that.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Crap. What was I saying? “I mean, not girls. Just the healthy part.”
He smiled wider. “I know what you meant.”
I let out a breath. “Good.”
I took a quick peek at his tray. A ham sandwich, soup, salad, and a bottle of water. Even our food was compatible. Well, except for the ham part.
“So, my dad is hosting this get-together tonight at this catering hall uptown. A networking thing. He said I could bring a few friends. It’ll be kind of lame, but the food will be good. Do you want to come?”
Was he asking me out on a date right now? I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face.
“Sure.”
“Is there anyone particular you’d like an audience with? My dad can arrange it.”
An audience? Was the Queen of England going to be there? I wouldn’t mind meeting her.
“I’ll have to think about it. Can I give you an answer later?”
“Sure. I mean, it won’t be a problem or anything to arrange something. It’s really just a matter of knowing who’s at the top of your future field and making a good show for them, you know?” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “So, for example, what do you want to do when you graduate?”
I wanted to tell him I wanted to be a painter, but, somehow, it felt like a guy like Andrew wouldn’t understand my creative side. I decided on a more vague answer.
“Not live at home, I guess. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
He raised an eyebrow in a gesture that looked decades older than his sixteen-year-old body. “Really? A smart girl like you doesn’t have her future mapped out?”
My eye twitched a little.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling, though my chest suddenly felt tight. “Crazy, right?”
We walked out of the line and back toward our tables. He normally sat with a bunch of guys from the Future Entrepreneurs of the World Club. Bella called it the Super Villains Training club, but I didn’t think that was the case. They were just a group of guys who had their lives together. I wished more guys would follow their lead.
“Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I know how hard it is figuring out what you want to do with your life. But it’s important. Opportunities to network like this don’t come around often, so think fast, okay?”
I plastered a smile onto my face.
“Okay.”
His smile was genuine.
I wanted mine to be genuine too.
“Well, I’m going to go grab a seat, but I’ll catch up with you later. I look forward to talking with you some more.”
Genuine smile activated.
“Sure. I want to talk to you some more too.”
He waved goodbye, and my entire body filled with glee as I walked to my friends’ table. They all stared back at me with congratulatory expressions.
“He looked like he was enjoying that conversation,” Bella said. “Any juicy tidbits you want to share?”
I put my salad dressing on my salad and mixed it around a little.
“He invited me to a networking thing for his dad,” I said.
Sophia gasped. “Is that rich kid code for a hookup?”
“No. Like actually network. Like become friends with business people who can help you in the future. Then, he asked me what I wanted to be when I graduated.”
“What did you say?” Ariel asked.
“I said I didn’t know. Then he said something about not wasting this opportunity...” I took a big bite of my salad as my thoughts deepened.
“But you already know what you want to be when you graduate,” Ariel said, one judgy brow high in the air. “You want to paint.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, Andrew is so put together. What would he say if I told him I wanted to be a painter when I graduated?”
“If he’s right for you, he’ll say ‘that’s great’,” Sophia said. “If he’s wrong for you he’ll be a douche about it.”
I scowled. I should have told Andrew I wanted to be a painter. Why didn’t I? Maybe it was for the same reason I hadn’t told my parents.
I knew neither of them would approve.
And I wanted Andrew to approve of me. I wanted him to like me.
I took another big bite of my salad.
What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like me to change myself for a guy. Granted, I didn’t have a lot of guy experience, but if my friends were in the same situation, I would have told them to never change themselves for any guy. I would have told them to tell the guy exactly who they were and to be proud of it.
So why wasn’t I taking my own advice?
“Jasmine,” Bella said, snapping a finger in front of my face.
Had she be
en saying something? I was so wrapped in my thoughts I hadn’t heard her.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Sophia was giving you a very good piece of advice,” she said.
“Yes.” Sophia took a deep breath and laced her fingers together. “All my life I’ve lived by a code and—”
“Oh, I know this one,” Cole said, standing and propping one foot on the bench in a heroic, almost Shakespearian pose. His voice turned deep, and, for some reason, he had a slight British accent. “‘All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman, and defend your country. Troy is mother to us all. Fight for her!’”
A few guys yelled back from a nearby table. Then, the battle cry waved from table to table until nearly every guy in the room was shaking their fists in the air and stomping on the floor.
Cole bowed and raised a fist in the air, while applause and cheers played him down to his seat.
I laughed until tears ran down my face.
Sophia was not impressed.
“For your information, I was not going to quote Eric Bana from Troy. Nice try, though.”
“Well, everyone else seemed to have enjoyed it.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair and a few of the guys walked over and clapped him on the back.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say!”
“Well, you shouldn’t have given me such a good setup,” he said, placing a quick kiss on Bella’s lips. She was already looking at him as if he were a mighty Grecian and she a damsel in distress.
“You’re ruining it!” Sophia cried.
“Improving it!” Cole argued.
“You don’t even know what I was going to... this is exactly what happens at band practice. You think you know everything.”
“I do not!”
Cole and Sophia continued to go at it, while I stuffed salad into my mouth.
If only boys were as easygoing as Cole. I’d bet if Bella told him she wanted to be a painter, he would cheer her on.
But Andrew wasn’t like Cole. He was nice, but serious. Stable. His entire existence was planned out. He was exactly the type of boyfriend I needed. Someone who would bring some stability into my life. Someone who wouldn’t fight with me or break my heart. A sincere and honest boy.
