Her mom is being funny,
also bouncing,
also talking a lot.
A shadow breaks a halo,
two people by the car
next to us.
They are laughing,
quiet,
the sound carried low
on the night breeze
and I see
now they’re kissing,
a quick peck on the lips.
Tam says:
Hey, Neighma!
Good night, sleep tight,
see you tomorrow!
And wait.
What?
Neighma is Frankie and . . .
Frankie and Roxy were
chicken-pecking
goodnight-kissing?
The two old ladies?
From this afternoon?
The halo of light
reveals a truth
I can’t quite compute.
Tam’s mom sighs.
I want to be that in love
when I’m their age,
Tam sighs back.
In love?
I ask, confused.
They’ve been married
my whole life,
Tam says,
even before
the Supreme Court
said they could.
And, huh.
Two old ladies
married to each other . . .
that isn’t something
I’ve seen before.
TAM
Kate runs to her front door,
waves goodbye,
disappears.
Mom’s quietness
as she drives
burns my ears.
No more goofing.
No more jokes.
She pushes up her glasses
and finally she says:
Kate is nice.
Yes.
She seemed a little surprised
by Neighma and Roxy.
Yes.
Does it surprise you
that that surprises her?
I hadn’t really thought about it.
I hadn’t really thought about it.
And that’s it.
No more words,
even once we get home.
Mom is never this quiet.
I guess maybe she’s the one
who’s surprised by
Kate being surprised.
But none of it surprises me.
I’m just glad
everyone was at the game
cheering me on.
Kate
The call came late.
My eyes were closed;
I was already sliding into sleep,
tired from my day,
the game,
the newness of everything,
when the buzz on my dresser
startled me.
My heart jumped so fast and hard
it hurt in my chest.
What could Becca want this late?
Or maybe it’s someone else?
Hello?
I didn’t even look at the caller ID.
Katie?
My nose wrinkled.
Katie?
No one calls me that.
Sorry.
Wrong—
Katie.
It’s Jill.
She tried to make me wait
until tomorrow
to see her,
but nope,
no way.
That phone call is why
I’m standing here
at 10:45 P.M.
in the dark,
my eyes scratchy,
hoping Mom doesn’t notice
I’m gone.
The car door opens.
I climb inside.
There’s so much trash on the floor
that when I kick it
it seems to kick back.
And then two long arms wrap around me.
I smell peppermint,
cigarettes,
the twang of hair gel.
Katie.
You’re so big.
Jill.
My voice is quiet.
Maybe even scared.
You’re so . . .
here.
She laughs, shows off
her lopsided smile,
hugs me tight.
Kate
I don’t know how to describe it,
the way Jill looks now,
like there’s a light shining
from inside her,
little slants of sunshine
slipping around her smile.
She’s bright,
happy,
relaxed.
Her eyes are a different shape
than they used to be,
not squinched,
not pinched,
but wide and smiling.
Smiling eyes?
Smiling eyes!
Jill.
Jill.
Jill.
I poke her
to make sure she’s real.
Kate
Four years ago.
The last time I saw my sister.
It was her eighteenth birthday
and she joined the Navy.
Mom yelled,
How could you do this to me?!
And,
The Navy?! You never even made it past guppies
in swim lessons, remember?
And,
But you’re so pretty!
Why would you do that?!
And Dad,
he shut himself in his study,
while Jill hugged me hard,
her wet face sticking to my little cheek,
and she said,
I’m doing this for me, but also
for you.
I love you, Katie.
And then she was gone.
Four years ago.
Kate
I don’t want to stare.
I can’t help but stare.
Her hair.
Dyed white.
Shaved on one side.
Flopping over her eye
on the other.
Her arms glow with colors,
designs
swirls
daggers
hearts
flowers.
I want to know the story
of every tattoo, and I can tell
from the way she smiles
she wants to tell me those stories, too.
Alex
Alyx
Alexx
It’s not just our eyes.
Seeing.
In the halls.
It’s not just our ears.
Hearing.
At lunch.
It’s everyone.
All over.
Everywhere.
Waking up.
Taking notice.
A constant hmmm.
A shift.
A tilt.
Something new.
Kate
I made you a thing.
(I really did.)
I don’t . . . I don’t know why.
(I really don’t.)
But I just thought,
maybe you’d like it?
(I thought she’d like it.)
Though now that I’m looking at it,
it seems like maybe a thing
you would hate?
(She hates it.)
So . . .
never mind?
(I am such a dork.)
(I should walk away.)
(I am trapped here.)
(My eyes stuck to her face.)
(Her surprised face.)
(Her growing smile.)
Let me see it, you goof.
(This was a terrible idea.)
(What was I thinking?)
This is really cool.
You . . . like it?
I love it.
It’s great!
Plus, the be
st part?
It was made by this girl,
Kate?
Have you heard of her?
Probably not.
She’s very quiet and no one knows
her,
she—
I laugh
punch her arm.
OW.
She punched my arm!
(Why would I do that?)
(Who AM I?)
Haha. No need to get violent.
(She likes it.)
(The bracelet, I mean.)
(Not the punch, probably.)
(Whew!)
(I can’t stop smiling.)
(Look at her smile.)
(It makes me smile.)
(She’s smiling, too.)
(I guess it was a good idea
after all.)
TAM
Does it matter
that my heart races
in the halls at school?
Like,
maybe
I should see a doctor?
Because it’s not cool
this crazy feeling
that’s never happened before.
It doesn’t happen
on the court
and that’s when I work
the hardest.
It doesn’t happen
when I’m almost late
and sprint super fast
to class.
It doesn’t happen
when I talk to Levi
or when he makes me
laugh.
I don’t get it.
These flutters
these heartbeat dives
into my toes
making my throat
close
and my breath
catch up high.
What’s wrong with me?
And why does this happen only
when Kate walks by?
Kate
We’re standing in the hall
talking
laughing
as if we’ve known each other our whole lives.
I don’t notice everyone disappearing.
I don’t notice it getting quiet around us.
I don’t notice the bell ringing.
I don’t realize we’re both late to practice.
Tam doesn’t notice
either.
TAM
Nothing makes me late to practice.
Nothing.
Not homework
or the dentist
or the weather
or detention.
Not Levi’s jokes.
Not forgetting my stuff.
Not having a bad day.
Not anything.
Until today
when I was standing outside the gym
chatting with Kate
about her day
and we were laughing
and teasing
and talking
and then
like the shatter when you drop a glass
Coach Quick yelled
DaSilva!
What are you DOING out there?
and the lights seemed extra bright,
the sounds seemed extra loud,
like I’d just woken up
from a surprise nap
and oh crap!
Late!
Because of Kate!
Aaaack!
Coach!
Wait!
Let me explain!
TAM
Shazam!
I knock over Levi’s knight
and take out a few pawns,
too.
Oops.
What is that?
An extra secret chess move!
No, goob. On your wrist.
Do you like it?
A new bracelet.
I’m testing it out.
Bracelet?
What?
You’re suddenly a girl or something?
Shut up.
I like it.
Who are you?
What did you do to Tam?
Shut UP.
It’s cool.
I guess?
It just doesn’t seem like . . .
you.
Like he’s an expert
on me.
He takes my queen,
makes her dance,
just to rub it in.
But I’m distracted because . . .
isn’t he an expert?
On me, I mean?
My best friend
shortstack
Levi twin?
Doesn’t he know me
better than anyone?
IS this bracelet me?
Or is it the me
I want Kate to see?
Would I ever wear this normally?
What even IS normally
these days?
Yeah, it’s ME, okay?!
Hey.
What?
It’s ABSOLUTELY me!
The perfect me!
The exact me!
There has been nothing more ME
than this bracelet,
dude.
No . . . I just . . .
Jeez.
It’s your move.
TAM
I thought Mom might not notice.
I was wrong.
What is that totally radical thing
on your arm,
ma’am?
Nothing, Mom.
It’s nothing.
It’s not nothing!
Let me see that!
It’s gooooooorgeous, Tam!
Super fly, tight,
am I right?
Mom.
Please.
Let go of my hand.
Did you buy this?
With what money?
Where?
It was a gift.
A gift?
Mom.
Stop.
No eyebrows.
Mom.
Her eyebrows have climbed
so high on her forehead
they are lost
among her bangs.
From whom, pray tell?
Just . . . a friend.
How do her eyebrows
get even higher?
Like caterpillars
escaping a fire.
Which friend?
The cute one?
With the ponytail?
Who came to the house?
Yes, Mom.
Kate.
Kate.
More eyebrows.
What?!
Kate?
It’s no big deal!
Just a bracelet!
Okay!
Okay.
TAM
Frankie stares.
I fume.
Why does Mom have to be so . . .
her?
. . .
Why can’t she just be . . .
quiet?
. . .
Listen for once?
. . .
Not be so . . .
loud?
That’s just who she is.
It stresses me out.
Why?
It just does.
. . .
Oh, come on, Frankie.
Don’t look at me like that.
. . .
It just does!
Maybe you should think about
why her energy
stresses you out.
Is she saying something
you don’t like?
Is she asking questions
you don’t want to answer?
Now you’re stressing me out.
Just something for you to think
about.
I like your bracelet, by the way.
ARRGHHHHHH.