Towelhead (12 page)

“I'm listening,” I told him.

“Good,” he said.

When we got home, he told me not to go to bed yet, because my mother wanted to talk to me. Then he dialed her number and handed me the phone. “Jasira?” she said.

“Yes?”

“Your father told me about your friend Thomas. It's very important that you listen to your father's rules about him. Do you understand?”

“No,” I said.

“What don't you understand?”

“I like Thomas,” I said.

“That's fine,” my mother said. “I'm glad you do. But you can't visit his house anymore, because it will be very difficult for you later on.”

“What's she saying?” Daddy asked.

“That it will be very difficult for me to visit Thomas's house,” I said.

He nodded. “That's correct.”

“Tell him to shut up,” my mother said. “Tell him I'm talking.”

“It's okay,” I said. “I'm listening to you.”

She was quiet for a second, and I knew she was mad that I wouldn't tell Daddy to shut up for her. I was mad at her, too, since if I had done what she wanted, Daddy would've hit me. Finally, she said, “Your father isn't even black, and people used to call me all kinds of names.”

“Like what?” I said.

“Like nigger lover.”

I didn't understand how this would work, since the kids at school already called me a sand nigger. It seemed like that would make Thomas a nigger lover, too. Plus, I didn't even know if we loved each other.

“Do you want people to call you that?” my mother asked me.

“I don't know,” I said.

“Well,” she said, “trust me, you don't.”

“What do I tell Thomas?”

“About what?” she said.

“About going to his house.”

“Has he already invited you back?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe he won't. Then you won't have to worry about it.”

“He will,” I said.

“Oh really?” she said, and she laughed a little. “We're very sure of ourselves, aren't we?”

I didn't say anything.

“If he invites you back, just tell him you can't come. Tell him your parents think you're too young to be going to boys' houses.”

“He'll know I'm lying,” I said.

“Well,” she said, “maybe the next time something like this comes up, you'll be sure to give us all the details. Consider it a learning experience.”

“Is she finished?” Daddy asked me then.

“Daddy wants to know if you're finished,” I said.

“Oh,” she said, “so you can pass along his messages to me but not the other way around?”

“Here's Daddy,” I said, and I handed him the phone, and they started arguing about how bad it was to interrupt each other.

I went in the bathroom then and sat on the edge of the tub. I looked down at the Band-Aid Thomas had put on my ankle, and I decided I'd had a nice time with him. I decided that what my parents were saying didn't really make any sense. Being Thomas's girlfriend in school hadn't hurt me—it had helped me. And even if it did start to hurt me sometime later on, I didn't care. I'd still never tell him what my parents wanted me to tell him. Not in a million years.

 

On Monday at lunch, Thomas gave me a bag with the tampons in them. “Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.”

“Thomas?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Does your mom have any razors?”

“Why?” he said.

“Because I need razors, too.”

“Your dad won't get them for you?”

I shook my head.

“But you shaved the other day.”

“That was a special occasion,” I said.

He took a sip of his milk. When he was done, he said, “Sure. I could get you some razors.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“How far up are you going to shave?”

“I don't know.”

“You should shave everything,” he said.

“I'll think about it.”

After Thomas cleared my tray, I walked with him to his locker, then he walked with me to mine. On the way there, he held my hand, and I noticed that some of the kids around us were looking. There were a few other couples in school who held hands, too, but no one cared about them because they were all white.

There was nothing to do when I got home except homework and TV. While I was doing some of my English reading, I heard Melina and Zack playing badminton in his backyard. I got up and put my shoes on and went outside. I crossed the driveway and stood on the spot where our concrete met the Vuosos' grass. Melina noticed me immediately. “Jasira!” she yelled. “C'mon over!”

Zack, who had his back to me, turned around and said, “No way! I'm not supposed to play with her anymore!”

By now, though, Melina had already set her racquet down and walked over to where I was standing. “Hey, stranger,” she said, and she reached out to ruffle my hair.

“Melina!” Zack yelled, not moving from his side of the net. “Come back! Let's finish the game.”

She ignored him. “So what's up?” she asked me.

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“How's school?”

“Fine,” I said. “I have a boyfriend.”

She smiled. “Really? That's great.”

“Thanks.”

“Melina!” Zack yelled.

Finally she turned around and said, “Zack? I'm talking to Jasira right now. So you're going to need to shut up for a second. You got it?”

He didn't say anything, and she turned back around and rolled her eyes.

“Mrs. Vuoso fired me,” I said.

“I heard,” Melina said. “She came to see me.”

“You took my job.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Are you kidding?” she said, lowering her voice. “I don't want to babysit this kid. I'm doing it as a favor to his mother. Till she finds someone else.”

“Why are you doing her a favor?”

“I don't know. I felt sorry for her. She was all freaked out that Zack was going to be alone.”

I wanted to say that I was alone all the time and no one freaked out about it, but I didn't.

“I'm going inside!” Zack yelled. He pointed at me with his racquet and said, “I'm not supposed to be anywhere near her!”

“Good!” Melina yelled back. “Beat it!”

“You can't talk to me like that!” he said.

“Oh, don't be such a baby,” she said.

He stormed onto the patio and through the sliding-glass door. He tried to make a loud noise closing it, but it didn't really work.

“I have to go inside, too,” I said.

“Why?” she said.

“I have to do my homework.”

She sighed. “Are you still mad at me about the tampons?”

“No,” I lied.

“If you were mad at me,” she said, “I would understand.”

“Thomas gets me tampons now,” I said.

“Who's Thomas?” she asked.

“My boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

“He gave me a whole bunch today at school.”

“Well,” she said, “he sounds like a pretty cool guy.”

“He is,” I said. I thought about giving her the full information, but I didn't. I was too mad. I just didn't understand why she wouldn't get me tampons, then, when someone else did, she said they were cool. It didn't make sense.

We said good-bye, and I went back inside to finish my homework. When Daddy came home, he asked me if I'd told Thomas that I couldn't see him anymore, and I lied and said that I had. “Good,” he said. “It's for the best.”

After dinner, we worked on his study, preparing it for my mother's visit. As Daddy filed away the papers on his desk, he got into a bad mood. He said he didn't understand why my mother had to stay with us. He said she had a perfectly good job, and she could afford a hotel just fine. He decided to call her to tell her this, and they ended up having a fight. I heard him say something like, “Don't think you're going to come crawling into my bed, because you're not.” I didn't know what she said back to him, but whatever it was, it made him hang up on her.

At lunch the next day, Thomas gave me a bag of plastic razors. “Thanks,” I told him.

“Are you going to shave today?” he asked.

“I just shaved on Saturday.”

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “Right.”

“I could do it for you,” he said.

I looked at him.

“I'd be really careful. I promise.”

I said no, but then later, in French class, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I remembered all those times with Barry in our bathroom in Syracuse, and I started to get a good feeling between my legs. I tried to ignore it at first, but then it got too strong and I had to press my legs together.

After class, I headed for my locker. Thomas came along and asked me what I had been doing under my desk. “What do you mean?” I said.

“You were squeezing your legs together.”

“No, I wasn't.”

“Did you have to pee or something?”

“No,” I said.

“I read where girls can have an orgasm that way,” he said.

“What way?”

“Squeezing their legs together.”

I didn't say anything.

“Is that what you were doing?” he asked.

We had reached my locker by then, and I started working on the combination.

“Jasira,” Thomas said, leaning his head against the locker next to mine.

“What?”

“Let me shave you.”

“No,” I said, but it wasn't forceful, and when I got on my bus after school that day, he was already there, saving me a seat.

 

At home, Melina and Zack were out in the street, kicking a soccer ball back and forth. “Hey!” Melina called as we walked up. She kicked the ball to Zack and came over to meet me and Thomas in my driveway. I introduced the two of them, and they shook hands. Then Melina turned to me and made kind of an excited face.

“Is that your son?” Thomas asked her, nodding toward Zack. He hadn't moved an inch since we'd shown up. He was just standing there in the street with his foot on top of the soccer ball.

“God no,” Melina said.

“That's Zack,” I said. “He lives next door to me.”

“Hey Zack!” Thomas called, but Zack didn't say anything.

“What are you guys up to?” Melina asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Just hanging out,” Thomas said.

“Want to play soccer?” Melina asked.

“I'm not allowed to play with them!” Zack yelled then.

Thomas looked at him. “What's that kid's problem?”

“Just ignore him,” I said.

“I was just trying to be nice,” Thomas said.

“He's a brat,” I said. “It doesn't matter.”

Thomas didn't seem to be listening to me. “I mean, what kid doesn't want to kick a ball around?”

“A weird kid,” Melina said.

Thomas looked at her. “But he was just kicking it around with you.”

“He's used to me,” Melina said. “If he knew you better, he'd kick it around with you, too.”

Thomas didn't say anything. Neither did I. I was pretty sure that even if Zack did know Thomas, he wouldn't want to kick a ball with him.

“Is it hot out?” Melina asked, fanning her face with her hands. “I feel hot.”

“Not really,” I said.

“Maybe it's just me,” she said, laying a hand on her stomach.

I hated how she always figured out some way to start talking about her baby.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Thomas asked.

“A girl,” Melina said. “Dorrie.”

“Dorrie?” he said.

She nodded.

“What kind of name is that?”

“It was my grandmother's.”

“Oh.”

“It's also the name of a witch,” I said.

“Yes,” Melina said, “that's true.”

“What witch?” Thomas asked.

“Dorrie the Witch,” I said. “She's a character in these books.”