Don't Go I

Adrianna and Julio stand at my front door, she stares at my hair.  "What did you do to it?" She asks.   

“My aunt didn’t like the candy cane highlights.  But I think she hates the bleached blonde too.”

“We don’t care how you look or what you want to call yourself.” Julio says.  Adrianna doesn’t say anything when he tells me this, but at least they showed up and asked where I had been.  And for a little while, I feel better than how it’s been like I am the trash at the base of some giant garbage mountain where everybody throws banana peels and rotten grapes.

“I don’t care what you call me,” I say.  “As long as I can go with you guys.”

“She’s already in the ozone layer,” Adrianna says.  “It’s time to hike back.”

“Isn’t your block party tonight?” Julio asks.

“In a few hours.  Aren’t you coming?” I ask.

And then everything is brightness and light.  I run towards the bathroom in search of the yellow bottle with the pink top.  The smell burns.  Negative.  I wonder how much I need to fix a bad pedicure, to balance bad nail polish?

I open the lemony colored bottle and pour a mess of the stuff on to cotton balls and try to clean up the chipped black polish on my toes.  I gag until there’s nothing negative left, until the glitter black has been mostly scrubbed off and new glitter blue and glitter silver has been lacquered on.  My cheek presses against the hardness of the bathroom tile as I wait for positive signs, as I wait for my toes to dry, as I wait for magical happiness?

But I haven’t really eaten in many days and I reach for the snack in my jeans’ pocket.  This tiny fairy food morphs into a dinner plate surrounded on all sides by neighbors and laughter, the smell of beer.  There are chips and chili and some guy behind me asks, “What’s taking so long?”

Mickey is on the opposite side of the chili that looks almost all gone.  “We’re not staying,” Julio says.  He starts to strut off.  Thom tugs on my arm and I remember what I’m doing here.

“I’m helping my cousin with his plate, can you wait?” I ask.

Julio turns and glares at me, “You should skip dinner, I hear it isn’t very good.”  He holds up his plate that’s stuffed with nothing but dessert.

Julio saunters off as if he’s sure I’ll be right behind him.  Minus signs are everywhere - empty chili, Don’s favorite country music playlist seems to have gotten louder in the last few seconds, and this angry person behind me has gotten louder too, he says, “Look, we’re hungry, are you filling your plate or not?”

Mickey walks over to where Thom and I are standing.  He doesn’t say a word to me, but he says to Thom, “I’ll help you with the rest if you want.  I’m faster than Emily.”