But everything sticks in my throat
just like the flour stuck in my hair
and none of my words shake loose
like the flour I’m dripping everywhere.
Kate
She would have expected more.
She would have expected better.
She would have been less disappointed with
less
mess.
Not very ladylike,
this
mess.
Not very ladylike,
at
all.
Well what if I’m messy sometimes?
What if my ladylike
has a different definition than hers?
TAM
Kate comes back to the kitchen,
ponytail wonky,
still covered in flour.
Her eyes stare at the floor.
It’s about to be ripped up, anyway.
Why does it matter if it gets dirty?
Katherine.
Her mom’s voice is a low growl.
Kate’s eyes meet mine.
In a split second
I see them flash,
saying so many words
I can barely keep up.
But her mouth just says,
I’ll walk you to the door.
Her floury elbow catches mine
and she spins me out of the kitchen,
chin high.
TAM
William looks up at me,
raises his turtle claw in
slow-slow-slow motion.
I raise my hand in
slow-slow-slow motion.
We slow-slow-slow high-five.
I clear my throat.
Frankie’s side-eye
appraises.
Is my chest burning
from Frankie’s very hot,
very spicy
Mexican hot chocolate?
Or is it burning because Kate’s mom
hates me
for no real reason?
(Not counting the kitchen mess.)
Something on your mind?
William blinks.
I blink.
Are you kidding me?
Was that a tear?
Am I crying?
Ugh.
Why would I cry?
I never cry.
Do you mind my asking,
what is in your hair?
I look up,
put my hand in my hair.
A tiny explosion of flour
falls on my lap,
falls on William,
and just like that,
it reminds me of Kate.
It makes me smile.
The burn in my chest gets warmer,
brighter, as I tell Frankie the story,
and we laugh together.
Kate
I don’t feel like talking to Mom
anymore
today.
And I can tell she doesn’t feel like
talking to me
either.
But my brain is moving in circles,
overlapping,
spinning,
there are so many thoughts
going so many ways
sparks might shoot out of my ears
like those firework daisy chain things.
I want to write it out,
or talk to someone,
but I don’t even know what
I want to say.
I just feel kind of crazy
and
hey,
I know . . .
Hey,
I text Jill.
What’s going on?
Kate
The saw is so loud
I can feel it in my teeth,
vibrating,
screaming,
a banshee.
Mom waves her hands, frantic,
telling me to move.
Don’t stand there!
Her mouth moves.
No weight!
Move! Move!
I look down.
Part of the floor,
new,
gray,
wide wooden slats.
An empty color.
But pretty, I guess.
I step to the side.
Mom mouths,
Thank you.
I’m going to see Jill tonight,
I say,
knowing the saw is drowning me out.
Pardon?
She cups her hand
around her ear.
Have you missed her?
She shakes her head.
I can’t hear you!
What else is new?
I shout back,
maybe a little too loud.
TAM
Mom calls me homegirl while
the pancakes sizzle
and she wants to know about my day
and she had a million patients
and she’s so tired.
I’ve already showered
the flour
away
and I’m also so tired
so I just
say,
My day was fine,
and we eat our pancakes
in silence.
Kate
I told Mom I have a group project,
imperative to study
at the library,
nowhere else,
only the library
will work.
As soon as Mom dropped me off
Jill drove up,
whisking me away,
asking about my day.
And the funny thing is,
now that I have the chance to talk,
to let the daisy chain sparks fly,
to figure out my spinning brain,
I only want to talk about Tam
and how she looked in the kitchen,
all powdered and messy,
and how much I liked to see her
in my kitchen
instead of in school
or on the volleyball court.
She was right there,
and I was right there,
and no one else was
right there,
and it was
so
much
fun.
But all these words spark in my head
and can’t quite find their way
to my voice
so I say,
My day was weird, but good.
How was yours?
Kate
Jill is quiet, then
she talks about looking for a job,
and other things.
I don’t really hear her because I’m
staring into her black coffee eyes
reflecting my face
and I wonder if her face reflects in my eyes
and how it is that
the two of us
are created from the same ingredients
when she seems so black coffee deep
and I am so
milkshake messy.
Her eyes stare back,
holding my gaze,
and I wonder . . .
is she looking for herself in me?
Kate
Jill’s eyes move to the window,
a slow slide,
when I ask if she’s going to come home,
to see Mom.
She spins her spoon in her coffee
as she sighs and shrugs.
I feel that sigh.
I feel that shrug.
The floors are all ripped up,
and Mom seems fresh out of hugs.
Maybe it’s not a great time to visit
right now.
Alex
Alyx
Alexx
Alyx?
Alexx?
Alex?
Do you feel
Do you feel
Do you feel
extra feelings
extra feelings
extra feelings
today?
today?
today?
I don’t.
Not me.
Definitely not.
But everyone else?
But all the people?
But the lunch tables?
Might be a revolt.
It’s tense out there.
In the air.
In the air.
In the air.
Kate
I guess Becca called
the house phone
when I was with Jill
yesterday.
No one calls the house phone.
Mom thought I had died or something.
An emergency.
But it was because Becca wanted to say hi
and she thought maybe my cell phone was broken
or taken away
because I haven’t been answering her calls
or texts.
That hasn’t been on purpose,
I swear.
I’ve just been busy,
distracted,
and I see her at practice every day!
But Mom was freaked
and she wanted to know why.
Why, Katherine,
why haven’t you been talking to Becca?
Are you fighting?
She’s an ally, you know.
You need her on your side
when it’s time to take up the reins
of captain.
Maybe take a minute tomorrow.
Sit with her,
see how she’s doing.
She’s your best friend,
why would you ignore her?
I’m not ignoring her,
I just . . .
I don’t know.
She’s not who I want
to talk to
right now.
But here I go . . .
a diplomat.
a leader.
a captain.
Kate
Hey, Becca.
Hey, Kate.
What is that?
A pomegranate.
Want some?
Sure.
You like it?
It’s tart.
Like you.
Like me?
Looks sweet, but
complicated on the inside.
Am I complicated?
Tam walks by, all swagger
and laughing.
The room tilts toward her,
orbiting her.
She is the bright star
in the center of the lunchroom universe
and I am in a pomegranate black hole
watching Becca stare at her fruit,
concentrating so hard
to pick out the tiny bites.
Did you bring something?
For the bake sale?
No I didn’t.
I forgot.
Oh, huh.
Hey, Kate?
Yeah?
Yearbook!
She surprises me
flash flash flash.
I don’t have time
to smile.
TAM
I see Kate
leaning close to Becca
far away
heads bent
secrets shared?
I want to hear every word.
I want to memorize every detail
of what’s on Ponytail’s mind
today,
and I want that Becca girl
to melt
melt
melt
away
but she doesn’t, so I look around,
I see my man’s man
ladies’ man
man about town
waving
wearing
a protein shake mustache
like he’s king of the world
and I laugh.
My shortstack
Levi
best bud
sitting tight
holding court
with the other goofballs
at lunch.
I drop my tray
WHACK
on the table,
straddle the bench,
high-five low-five
fake punch
smile
and just as Levi starts to chat
because finally,
finally,
Kate
is heading this way.
Kate
TAM
She’s not that bad.
[side-eye]
Tam.
It’s true.
[side-eye]
Your mom hates me.
She does not!
[side-eye]
Well, I mean
she hates
everything.
Not exclusively you.
[side-eye]
I’m sorty.
When you said you’d blow up the kitchen,
I didn’t think you were serious.
[shoulder punch]
Next time, believe me.
I’d never lie to you.
Deal.
[smile]
[smile]
Your mom still scares me.
I know.
She scares me, too.
TAM
I look around after school
(but maybe not too hard)
and I don’t see Levi.
I meant to ask him
(but maybe wanted him to say no)
if he’s going to tonight’s football game.
I don’t see him
(because I’ve stopped looking)
so that means I’ll go alone.
Maybe I’ll sit by the cheer bench
so I can see what the mascot is up to.
(It feels important to know.)
Kate
I guess this is it.
Our last game together.
The Falcon’s eyes are empty.
I admit,
I won’t miss your smell.
But we did have fun,
didn’t we?
The Falcon’s beak is still.
Thank you for not caring
if I was dumb
or dorky
or silly
or clumsy.
The Falcon’s feathers ruffle
in the breeze.
Thank you for hiding me,
but also not hiding me,
if that makes any sense
at all.
I hate to give you back.
I hate to be done.
We had a good time, didn’t we?
You goofy Falcon.
I put on the Falcon head,
take a deep breath.
Tonight after the game
I’ll give Coach the costume back.
Time to listen to Mom.
Time to focus on captain.
TAM
Rumbling stumbling tumbling chaos
another mascot at the game?!
Kate didn’t say anything about—
Whoa, whoa!
Hahahaha!
The coaches run and yell,
chasing the new mascot
right off the field.
It must’ve
just been
some kid
goofing around.
Oh man,
oh wait,
Kate.
She isn’t laughing.
Not even close.
Falcon head under her arm,
girl is breathing fire.
Who was that masked chicken?
She looks ready to take its head off
in more ways than one.
Kate
Rogue!
Imposter!
Fake!
Jerk!
Did you see that guy?!
Some kid trying to steal my spotlight?!
Some kid trying to make me look dumb?!
You didn’t look dumb at all.
&nbs
p; I promise.
It was just some dopey kid.
No big deal.
You were great.
Just like you always are.
Tam met me after the game,
after the squad went on and on and on
about that stupid chicken head,
how funny he was.
And now I’m squeezing the Falcon,
the giant head pressed to my chest,