Chapter 5 School time

CHAPTER SIX

Mornings in Tennessee are quiet. Not like Hawaii. That's one of the first things I noticed when we moved. In Hawaii, there were various early-morning sounds.

First, by five in the morning everyday, ma Josie, was always out in her poultry that was close to my room. The sounds from the pen always woke me up. Then she trimmed the flowers in her garden or lawned while she hummed her hymes.

Minutes after she went inside, Dr. Abraham would start his car. Then wash it and go in to get ready for work.

For a moment, I stay in bed and imagine these sounds are around me, that distance hasn't stifled the pulse of Hawaii. I imagine nothing has changed. And then the alarm on my nightstand goes off.

After a deep sigh, I sit up. It's seven o'clock on the first day of school. The outfit I plan to wear is on a velvet armchair at the end of the room. It's a plain black shirt, blue skinny jeans, and black Converses-the perfect outfit for someone who wants to go unnoticed. Through my research, from the sixty teen movies I've now watched, I have learned that below the radar is the safest place to be in high school. It ensures survival. And that's my goal-to survive high school.

When I'm dressed, Lucy walks into my room with her hands behind her back. The gloss on her lips matches the colour of pink roses on her dress.Some of her short box braids are up in a double topknot; the style enhances her oval face-her cheekbones that have a layer of shimmer on them.

My sister and I don't look much alike. While she has our father's light complexion, I have our mother's warm chestnut. Even though I'm two years older, she's taller, with long legs she has trained to be graceful. The parts of us that are similar-our upturned eyes and round, and heart full lips-look different on her once she's exaggerated them with makeup. Our slight similarities are only apparent early in the mornings before she's sat in front of a mirror to highlight and contour her features, using techniques I know absolutely nothing about.

Back in Hawaii, while still refining her skills as a makeup artist, she worked on middle-aged women around whose idea of makeup involved only gloss. Her clientele later expanded to brides and birthday celebrants. Usually, her weekends were fully booked. I know she's already started building a client base here. She's been going to parties with our cousin, mingling and advertising her work on her always stunning and flawless face. She's spent the last weeks announcing her presence in Memphis and will likely walk into school today with an entourage already assembled.

"Your outfit is..." She squints while studying me. "Underwhelming."

"That's intentional.""Oh. I see." She nods slowly. "Well, would you like me to do your edges?"

"I already did them."

"But you never really do them right." She pulls her hands from her back, revealing an edge brush and a container of gel. "I could help."

After glancing at the mirror on my vanity, I sigh. She's right. I'm not skilled in the art of swooping my edges into a perfect half circle. "Okay." I sit on the bed. "But be fast."

The cool, sticky gel glides on my forehead as Lucy uses the brush and her finger to style my baby hair.

"So," she says. "How are you feeling about school?"

I look at her standing over me and shrug."Are you excited?"

Again, I shrug.

Lucy asks no more questions. She does my hair, then takes a step back to inspect her work. "Perfect."

I don't have to look in the mirror for extra validation. I trust Lucy blindly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She slumps into the spot beside me and huffs.

"I'm a little excited about school. I'm also ... nervous. And angry. And really sad." She rests her head on my shoulder. "Is it crazy that I feel all these things at the same time?"

"No. It isn't." Since my dad died, there hasn't been a moment where I've felt only one emotion. Since his death, happiness is no longer just happiness; it's something sweet mingled with the bitter taste of guilt and anger. It's exhausting and confusing. I squeeze my sister's hand and assure her again. "It's not crazy."

"I just wish..." Lucy takes in a sharp breath but doesn't finish her sentence. She doesn't have to.

"I know, Lucy. I know."

After a moment where we both say nothing, she lifts her head and looks at me.

"Are we going to be fine?" she asks. "Are we going to be fine here? In this place? Without him?"

I imagine a future where the pain of our loss is less and things are better, but my pessimism blurs that image. For my little sister, I want that picture-perfect future to be bright andvivid-enough that the hope of it helps her through today and tomorrow and all the days ahead.

"Yes. We're going to be fine." I force those words out of my mouth and beg for the skills to make them sound believable. "We're going to be just fine. I promise."

Lucy nods, then sighs.

"Now." I stand and take her hand, pulling her up and then toward the door. "Let's go have breakfast."

When we walk into the kitchen, our mother gasps. "You both look beautiful."

"Thank you." Lucy grins and spins around, her dress flaring above her knees.

"Sit and eat." My mother sets down two plates of fried eggs and toast, and Lucy and I sit at the wooden counter. As we eat, she stands above us, watching with a small smile.

When I was younger, I used to stare at my mother while she got dressed or cooked, thinking she was the most beautiful woman. I'm seventeen and still watch her with the same admiration. The sunlight streaming through the gaps in the blinds beam on her chestnut-brown skin. Her hair, dense and springy with tight curls, hovers above her shoulders. People always said she looked like a TV star and mentioned different Hollywood female characters. My father would disagree firmly. "Nope," he would say. "My wife is finer." That always made my mother laugh.

"So?" she says, looking from me to Lucy. "The first day of a new school. Are you bothnervous?"

"A little, but I'm excited too," Lucy answers.

"Good." My mother looks at me. "Lucia?"

If I tell her the truth, that I'm not only nervous but terrified, she'll worry for the rest of the day. "Me too," I lie. "I'm excited."

She presses her lips in a firm line, clearly not convinced. I'm sure she's going to ask me more questions, but a knock at the front door comes just in time.

"It's not locked," she shouts.

Seconds after the door creaks open, Uncle Daniel appears in the kitchen. He's wearing one of his gray suits, appearing both professional and authoritative. He looks like my father the same way Lucy and I look like each other-similar in fewer ways than in more. The only things they have in common are their round eyes and pointed nose that dips slightly at the tip.

"Good morning," he says, cheerful. "It's a big day. Are you guys ready?"

"Absolutely." Lucy attempts to take her empty plate to the sink, but Mom gestures for her to leave it.

"Go ahead. I don't want you to be late."

"Yeah. We should get going," Uncle Daniel says. "Adrian is already waiting in the car."

"Okay." Lucy grabs her bag off the floor and slings it over her shoulder. "Bye, Mommy. Have a nice day."

"You too. And be good. Be a good girl okay "

"I won't make promises. But if I see a pest, I will handle him or her."

"Lucy," Mom says sternly. "Behave."

"Don't worry." Uncle Daniel stands in front of Lucy theatrically shielding her from our mother's glare. "She'll behave." They rush out of the kitchen and then out of the house, laughing.

The room is quiet for a moment, and I breathe deeply before standing and grabbing my bag.

"Lucia." Mom edges toward me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Why don't I believe you?"

I shrug.

"I am your mother. I know when-"

A loud honk cuts her off. These interruptions keep comingat the perfect time.

"That's Uncle. I should go."

Slowly, she nods. "Okay. But wait." She turns to the refrigerator and pulls out two brown paper bags. "Here. Lunch for you and your sister."

"But Adrian says they serve lunch at the cafeteria."

"Well, just in case you don't like the food."

"Thank you." I take the brown bags and examine them. "What is it?"

"Sandwiches. Turkey. Sarah recommended"

I'm relieved she didn't say tuna or egg. My research has proven that people in big cities with tuna or egg sandwiches don't do well in high school.

"So, what are you going to do while we're gone?"

"Study for my interview. It has been a while and I can't afford to make mistakes. Maybe I will go to the library. But I'll see you after school. I'll be right here," she assures me. "You can tell me all about your day. Okay?"

"Okay. Bye." I turn to the door but pause and look at her when she calls me.

"Don't get carried away," she says. "No distractions. Remember the reason you're going to school. Remember the reason your father and I wanted you and your sister to come to this country. Make us proud, eh?" She blinks quickly, pushing back the tears in her eyes.

With a firm grip on my bag strap, I do the same and nod. "I will."