I think about how content everyone seems to be to have me around. This is what I wanted. I won’t let anything ruin it—not even my unresolved feelings for Amari. But three thirty on Wednesday looms large in my mind.
A few days later, I get to the car after school and Kayla is mid-selfie.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the passenger seat.
“Take a pic with me.” Kayla waves me over. I throw up a peace sign, which used to be my signature pose. “Cute!” she shrieks.
Kayla tells me she’s posting it on IG, which makes me a little nervous. Most of the pictures have just been on her story or Snapchat—and those eventually disappear. This is more permanent. I haven’t posted anything since I’ve been out, and though we don’t have any mutuals, I’m still a little uneasy. Still, it’s flattering that Kayla wants to feature me in such a prominent way, and it’s hard to say no to her. She brainstorms a caption out loud and shows me proudly when it’s done:sister, sister <3.
The music pauses and Kayla’s phone rings on the Bluetooth speaker. “That’s my mom.” She stares at the number on the console. “I’ll call her back.”
Her mom.I’m so used to Kayla talking about my mom that I sometimes forget she has her own.
The music resumes.
As we get closer to the house, I think to myself,Now, Jasmine.My voice barely goes above a whisper when I ask her. “Do you want to talk about her? Your mom, I mean?”
Kayla sighs as she pulls in.
I don’t regret asking. I think this is what sisters do. “I’m not trying to upset you. I just care,” I say.
“I know,” she says. I follow her in silence up the path and into the house. She calls out to see if anyone is there and no one responds. “Let’s go to my room,” she decides. We head upstairs and I make myself comfortable on her floor, as I normally would. She sits at her desk and starts to talk.
“Most of the time, I’m okay about it. Like, my dad has made this nice life for us, and your mom is cool, and now you’re here. But some days…”
“Some days you can’t help but think about her?” I venture.
She hesitates. “It’s mostly when I get sad, or anxious about things, or there’s something I wish I could get her opinion on that my dad isn’t gonna help me with, like my dress.”
“I get that. You can always talk to me about it, if that helps,” I say.
She fidgets with her skirt but looks relieved to hear it. “Do you ever wonder where my mom is? I’m sure it’s weird no one talks about her.”
I almost mention the time before the carnival but stop myself. I don’t want her to think I’m nosy. “I mean, I have, but…”
She slides to the floor and leans against the chair. “It’s okay, it’s a weird situation but we’re family now, so I’m glad we’re talking about it.”
We’re family, I repeat to myself. “I promise it’ll stay between us,” I tell her, honored that she wants to share.
“It’s not some big secret. My mom used to live here, you know?”
“Wait, like in our house?”
She laughs. “No, my dad sold our old house. We used to live by Alice before my mom moved upstate to live with someboyfriend. Dad bought this new one when he married your mom.”
I knew something had happened to change their family structure, but this is a lot. “I’m sorry, Kayla,” I say, uncomfortable about how my mom fits into the story.
She shrugs. “It’s cool,” she says. “Your mom was very respectful in all of this. Not even the least bit of homewrecking.”
“Well… that’s good to know,” I reply, laughing nervously.
“So anyway, that’s how I know the girls. Our moms have been friends since we were babies.”
“Are they still friends?”
“Kind of? I mean, definitely not as close as they were…” She trails off. “They don’t understand leaving your kid for a man.” Kayla shrugs. “But I guess she wanted to be free.”
I think back to that day at the supermarket and the strained interaction with Kenny’s mom. She was trying to be friendly to the woman who’s mothering her friend’s daughter. I try to imagine what it must be like for Kayla, who’s grown up in this place and day in and day out has to face a whole community of people who know her mom up and left her.
