A tiny pin pricks an old wound in my heart.
I had secretly crushed on Touré Wallace off and on for three years. I had a thousand chances to tell him how I felt. He always seemed to be dating someone when I was free. Or when he was free, I was taken. At a party the end of junior year, we shared one hot, perfect kiss. I was dating someone and I shut it down before things went any further. We’d both been drinking and never really talked about it. By the time senior year started, I was single again and promised myself I would make my move. I daydreamed of being his girl our last year on campus. Everything would be different when we returned.
But he never did.
He was offered and accepted the opportunity of a lifetime working in Paris senior year. When he resurfaced, it was with a young family and early acclaim for his reporting from the frontline.
“I did hear he had a daughter,” I finally say, blinking the old memories away to focus on Janelle. “But I didn’t realize she attended Finley.”
“Yup. Super bright. Came over from Paris for high school. Finished a year early and started college at seventeen.”
“Smart like her father, huh?”
“Her mama, too. Her mother’s a fashion editor. So Celine—Touré’s daughter—is following in both their footsteps. She’s graduating this year with her degree in journalism. She was also just voted homecoming queen.”
“So Touré’s coming to see his daughter be crowned Miss Finley. What makes you think he’ll do an interview when he hasn’t much in the past?” I ask, sullying the blank notepad on my desk with a doodle.
“He just confirmed.”
My hand pauses mid-scribble.
“Oh, wow.” I lick my lips and release a steadying breath to counter my accelerating heartbeat. “Did you . . .um, did you tell him I’d be the one interviewing?”
“Yeah, he was into it.”
“Into it?”
“Well he wasn’tnotinto it. Two of the most successful graduates ever on the same stage in a rare interview? It’ll be huge.”
Curiosity and something akin to anticipation percolate inside of me. “And he said he’ll do it?”
“Got the text right before I called you. This would be huge for us and a coup for you. One of the most celebrated journalists of our time who’s notoriously private opening up to a former classmate whoalsowent on to do big things? It writes itself, Ni.”
The girl from years ago with the dented heart steps aside forAM’s anchor. Frank would kill me if I didn’t ask for this. “And could I get snippets of it to air on my show?”
“Homecoming weekend, yes. You’d have to ask Touré and probably his agent or publisher or somebody about his stuff. I dunno—that sounds above my pay grade, but it’s worth a try.”
Worth a try.
We didn’t even get to try. Three years of pining. A pile of possibilities we never got to explore. I always wondered whatwe could have been. I followed my dreams. Married. Divorced. I can’t complain. Touré never married and has a storied career few ever achieve, but what lies behind the public façade very few have gotten to see?
When his first bookElsewherereleased a few years ago, the cover so arrested me I stared at it for several minutes. It was a shot of Touré in an Afghani desert where he’d embedded. Framed by red hills of sand, he’d stood tall with the wind molding his clothes to the strong lines of his body, a scarf shrouding his head, leaving only his eyes and a sliver of his face exposed. He was sun-darkened and sand-dusted, and that image embodied him. Swathed in layers of questions, and only showing us the small part of himself he wanted us to see. I want to know—to truly know—the man beneath those layers. I want to know the man Touré became.
“Okay, Nelle. If he’ll do it, I’ll do it .”
“For real?! You’re in?”
Scribbling HOMECOMING on the pad, I circle and underline the bold letters. I don’t have time to do this, but something tells me I’ll regret it if I don’t.
“Yeah. I’m in.”
CHAPTER THREE
touré
Janelle smilesat me from her little box on the screen for our video conference call. It feels like we didn’t miss a beat, despite the fact we’ve missed nearly two decades.
“The committee is so hyped for this,” she says. “I’m everyone’s favorite person right now. The only people happier are Niomi’s producers.”
