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It got down to the low 70s, so Bakari slept with the windows down. He lay there for hours trying to get comfortable, listening to the sounds around him, shielding his eyes periodically when another car drove by. He thought about Danielle, and even though he was trying to save his battery power, he couldn’t resist looking at her Instagram. Just to see her smile.
When he went inside the house this morning to get cleaned up, his mother said she would try to talk to Joe. Bakari simply nodded and said a silent prayer that he would be able to sleep in his own damn bed tonight. His father was still mad, his mother was depressed, and he was irritable from lack of sleep and sore from the uncomfortable positions he’d been forced to lie in. Something had to give, and soon.
Bakari swallowed the lump in his throat and dreaded the remaining 36 minutes of class. Ms. Beardon swanned around the room as she usually did, her movements looking a lot like those flourishes she drew, trying desperately to keep their interest. She was fairly young, as teachers go, in her late 20s, and she was somewhat attractive if you liked that type. Her blond hair rested on her shoulders, and a dimple sat deeply encased in her chin. She was one of those earnest teachers who really love what they do, and it was a shame that her enthusiasm was often wasted on the class. Most of them simply had no interest in English beyond speaking it, and no interest in literature beyond whatever books they got into in their spare time.
She ended class a few minutes before the bell. Bakari had a feeling she did it so they could talk. He took his time gathering up his books, packing and repacking the same notebook and digging in his backpack for something that didn’t exist. Once the last student was out of the room, he approached her desk and felt a mixture of fear and excitement.
“So listen,” she began, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I enjoyed your paper. You have a real talent, Bakari. And I don’t say that lightly.”
Despite his trepidation, he smiled. “Thanks. I really liked the reading. I guess it motivated me.”
Ms. Beardon lit up. “I’m so happy to hear that.” She pushed a few blond wisps behind her ear and glanced at the door. “I also wanted to talk to you about something else.”
Here it comes.
“It’s been a while since I heard from you. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve just been real busy. Practice, and keeping my grades up, and meetings with the coaches and stuff. It’s not personal.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I was worried. And you know how I get when I’m worried.”
Bakari let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m good.We’regood.”
She stared at him, not blinking. “I don’t wanna crowd you or anything, but it would be nice to get a call or text from you sometimes.”
“Sorry. I’ve just been busy.”
“So you said. Just…don’t make me wait so long, okay?” she asked, a hint of desperation infecting her voice. “I miss you.”
Bakari painted on a grin. “Yeah. Me too.”
Itwasseveno'clock,and Bakari was sitting in his driveway debating. Go inside and face possible rejection? Or avoid his family altogether and suffer through another night in his car? Neither option was appealing. Practice had been rough, and Bakari blamed it on his sore neck and back. He needed to sleep in a bed tonight.
Several deep breaths and an internal motivational speech later, Bakari stepped out into the dusk and dodged a lightning bug on his way up the stone path to his front door. In any other context, he would have loved a night like this. It reminded him of when he was small and hanging outside with his friends, and having about five more minutes before his mother called him in for the night. And he was always the first one to get called in. It bothered him then, but now, he saw it for what it was. She was protecting him.
The porch light was already on, and several moths fluttered around it. He rang the doorbell and waited. No one came, so he rang it again. Finally, he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward the door. It was his father. He knew that menacing stomp anywhere.
Oh, well,he thought. Might as well swallow his pride and apologize to him, too. Anything to get back in the house. But Joe didn’t give him the chance. Without opening the door, and without pulling back the little curtain that covered the window panels that flanked the door, his father simply turned off the porch light and walked back down the hallway.
The journey back to the car was humiliating, but Bakari was too angry to be embarrassed. If that’s how it was gonna be, fine.
He slammed his car door and fumed for several minutes before picking up his phone to fire off a text. A text he never should have sent. But he was desperate.
Hey, can I stay with you tnt?
AB: Sure! Come on over
Beforeheevenhada chance to knock, Amanda flung the door open and waved Bakari inside. She wasn’t dressed in her normal teacher garb. Tonight, she was wearing a ratty Ole Miss t-shirt and black yoga pants. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her face scrubbed clean. “Welcome to my home!” she announced.
Truth be told, all Bakari was after was a bed and a good night’s sleep. And she might just leave him alone and let him get that if he could figure out the right way to say it. Ms. Beardon was sensitive to a fault, and he couldn’t afford to anger her. His guard was up. Way up.
“Thanks for letting me crash,” he said cautiously. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem! So what can I get you? Are you hungry?”
“Uh, I don’t know. What you got?” He’d never tasted her cooking before.
“Brunswick stew?”
