Broken (21 page)

“I don't understand.”

“She said we are friends forever. She said you will change or you had changed and you will change. I asked her how. She said, ‘You will see. You have a picture of her in your wallet.'” Sierra looked down at her ice cream. It made me wonder if there was more she wasn't telling me. “The psychic told my cousin a bunch of stuff about work. Remind me never to get a real job. Too much backstabbing.”

“Can I see your wallet?” I asked.

“Let me see yours.”

“You know I carry that card case.”

Sierra shrugged. “Throw it down.” Sierra pulled out an immaculate pearl pink wallet. I opened it to find a picture of Frenchy, Sierra, and me. Behind that picture was one of her parents. Then, under that picture, was a picture of us from last year at my house. I looked a little different then. My hair probably could've used a gloss over with a blow dryer. My hair was frizz city. Sierra's hair was dark brown then. Frenchy's was bleached blonde. They were always switching things up with their hair. It was their eyes that showed they were two sides of the same coin. Frenchy had on smoky eye shadow, Sierra's was iridescent pink, and mine was teal blue. What was I thinking? That didn't match my uniform at all! I noticed Dimitri in the back corner of the picture. Odd. Usually he'd duck or make a face in such an instance. Edna must have taken this for us. Sierra handed my cardholder back.

“Sorry, no pics.”

“What happened to the picture of us in SH you used to carry?”

“I ditched my old wallet—it was too bulky. After a girl on one of my flights lost her wallet on the G5, I decided to only carry my credit card. I mean, if I lose my wallet with all of my cards and pictures, I would be a total mess.”

“I see what you mean. I should probably get rid of this.”

“Maybe,” I said. What if what you carried in your wallet said something about you? “Did the psychic say anything else?” I asked. I finished my icy and started on the cookies. Sierra was about to finish them.

“Lock my doors,” Sierra said.

“Seriously?”

“She said you will travel for the holidays and make sure to lock all your stuff away. Then she said, ‘Be careful.'”

“Scary. Maybe you shouldn't go.”

“Whatever. Anyone can say, ‘Lock your doors.'” She did have a point.

“I never told you why Daddy sent Noel away. I never told anybody. Selective memory, I call it. That kind of stuff happens when your mom dies,” I said.

“Milan, don't say that.”

“I used to think the only way we wouldn't be together was in death. I don't why I thought that. He was so cute then. It had been two years since he came to live with us. We were going out to get mac-and-cheese.”

“What are you doing?” I asked Noel.

“Looking older.”

“Why?”

“I'm going to get a tattoo,” he said.

“Oh, you can't. You are not 18. Daddy, if he sees it, you'll be in BIG, BIG trouble.”

“I'm not afraid. The only thing you should fear is fear itself.”

“Why?”

“It keeps me from living in my head. That's what my mother used to say..”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don't know. I'm not supposed to be afraid of things, like liking you or living here or calculus.”

“I'm afraid of trigonometry. I sometimes don't do the homework until lunch because I dread it so much. Plus, I have Dr. Fig for trigonometry. You know his story,” I said.

“Dread is afraid. They are the same. Mom used to say anything you are afraid of, just do it.”

“Isn't that the Nike slogan?” He just laughed.

“He used to be like that—really … confident,” I said.

“Confidence is cute,” Sierra said.

“He was dressed like my Dad dresses for golf. It was so funny. I tagged along to the tattoo shop, but I wouldn't go in. I would've for sure blown his cover. He got the tattoo—my name in script on his upper back. It was small. I could cover it up just with my fingertips. He had a butterfly put over the ‘i' in my name.”

“It sounds pretty,” she said.

“It was so cute. He had it outlined in lavender-type purple.”

“That is supposed to be a good luck color or something.”

“Is it?” I asked.

“Yeah!” Sierra and I laughed. The smile left my face when I thought about what I was about to tell her next.

“You know, Dimitri got mad at Noel one day. I never knew why. I found them arguing. Then he told Noel that he better stop or he was going to tell Dad. Noel pushed him and was like, ‘I don't care. You can't control me.' Then Dimitri stormed out of Noel's room and ran to my father. My father came in the room with red in his eyes. He demanded that Noel take off his shirt. He refused. Then they started saying some stuff I didn't understand. Next thing I know, Dimitri was in there. I just ran into the bathroom crying. My father was just screaming over Noel. It was just horrible. When I came back out the bathroom, something had happened. My father was like, ‘That is all I need. You will pack your things and be ready tomorrow.' ‘No,' Noel protested. ‘You will not disobey me. Glenda is not here.' Then Dimitri said, ‘Don't ever forget that. You are not part of this family.' Then my father stormed out. It was so mean! Dimitri stormed out. Noel and I camped out in his room. I couldn't stop crying. We didn't really sleep all night. He said he wasn't afraid. But I think he was. He was shocked when my father's assistant summoned him at 7 the next morning.”

“That is way harsh, M. What do you think they were saying when you went to the bathroom?”

“I don't know. To this day, Dimitri won't talk about it. Now my father acts like he's reformed. I never hated my father so much. I've never hated anything so much.” I felt a little sting in my heart.

Sierra left late last night. It turned out her parents wanted to leave early in the a.m. The whole troop was heading to her grandparents' house in Connecticut. She was kind of bummed out. I was too. We'd spent the entire evening watching movies and reading fashion magazines. It was like a mega sleepover with just us two. Last night was slightly scary. I didn't like being in the apartment alone. Daddy was gone for the weekend, probably with Mrs. Wedding Bells. The doodler! Dimitri and Cara went to some sort of car race in Connecticut. Cara announced this trip during lunch on Friday. I couldn't understand why we still sat with her at lunch. To top things off, Edna, my only ally around these parts—she was on vacation for the next two weeks!

The temporary housekeeper would start on Monday. At least, that's what the note Edna left me on the dresser said. I didn't want this new person in my room. So I seized the opportunity to brush up on my bed-making skills. I didn't leave my room after Sierra left. I refused to turn off all the lights.

In spite of the video diary Merek sent about his trip to Harvard, I was still kind of lonely. I curled up at my window and watched people walk around. I had my pearls clutched tightly in my hand. My mother told me never to sleep with them on. I meant to get up and put them in my jewelry box. I fell asleep instead.

I'd seen my mother last night. I was kind of thankful. She was so pretty. She was unhappy with me, though. I knew it was just a dream, but her anger seemed real. I didn't know how it happened. The last time I looked at my cell, it was probably around 12:30 a.m. When I woke up, it was like 6:15. It took me 10 minutes to figure out Mama was
really gone. I felt good when I woke up. Everything felt good, until I slowly started to think the dream through. Then I went for a glass of water and the reality set in. I was home alone and Mama, my ally, I was without. I could only sigh at the thought.

She met me at the carousel in Central Park. I had on jeans and a light blue T-shirt. Mama was beautiful. Her jet-black hair glistened in the sun. Her skin was laced with a golden shimmer. Her eyes were so big and bright. Her eyelashes were longer than any extensions I'd ever worn on a set. The longest, darkest, prettiest eyelashes I'd ever seen. I hadn't realized I was now just as tall as she. She even said to me in the dream: “You'll be taller than I was.” She signed.

“Never,” I signed.

“Much prettier, as well. Along with beauty, Milan, comes responsibility. Beauty is worthless without brains. Your disability will disable you if you hide it. My daughter was made stronger by her deafness. It is what makes you unique and human. It never defined you.”

“It doesn't define me.”

“Then why do you pretend?” my mother asked.

I was silent. We sat elbow to elbow in the fancy carousel chair. We went around and around two, maybe three times without signing once.

“I need you to stay with me, Mama.”

“Don't do that.” Mama grabbed me by the arm and pulled me closer to her. She gave me a great big hug.

“Are you really going to stay?”

“I can't, Milan. I will be back.”

“I hate you!” The carousel stopped. I jumped off and ran through the crowd. I thought I was running away from her, but the next thing I knew I was running toward her. I ran past her toward the trees. I was almost of breath. A mirror appeared in front of this one tree. It looked familiar.

When I looked for my robe, I noticed the mirror from my dream was the full-length mirror from my closet. When I looked in that, my mirror in the dream, I saw my mother. Then I saw my father. Then I saw me, the 12-year-old. It was me dressed like Mama, the night she left for the holiday party with Daddy. I felt a warmth all over me. My Mama was at my side. “Don't be angry, Milan. I'm always here. When you stop hiding, you won't feel so alone.”

“I don't. I'm not alone.”

“I see all.” Then she paused. She searched my eyes. I felt so relieved. I had wished for her for so long.

“If you see all …”

“I know what you're going to ask me.”

“What?”

“He will return. Now and again.”

“Noel.” She shook her head. I stood there, shocked. Mama hugged me so tightly I couldn't move. It was like squeezing into a dress two sizes too small yet by some miracle you got it zipped up. I was ecstatic. It was like one of those days when everything seemed to be going your way.

You get an A on a super hard exam. Maybe you're having a great hair day and, to top it off, you come home to, well, good food. That's where my lucky streak ended. Except now, I had Mama. She kissed me on the cheek, then she held my hand in hers.

“You just call my name if you need me. Milan, you can't lie anymore. It will hurt you. You understand.” I closed my eyes. The air was so sweet, like fresh tulips. I hugged my mother tight enough for her not to escape my arms.

“Yes, Mama.” Then, just like that, before I could open my eyes again, I woke up.

This lie was weighing heavily upon me. I wouldn't know how to go back. And I didn't want to. This dream had changed me. This lie was with me every second of every day. Was it going to hurt me? Would she come if I called her? I read in a book online that dreams are fragments of the imagination.

“Do you think dreams can be true?” I texted Sierra.

“No.”

“If someone tells you something in a dream, you don't believe it will come true?”

“I once learned about a limited-edition LV bag from a girl in a dream.” So Noel was coming home! The thought took a moment to register.

It only took a few more seconds for me to start jumping up and down on my bed. It did dawn on me that I had a boyfriend. And Noel was into someone. I found myself lying in the middle of the bed quite sullen.

It was right then that Merek decided to ask me out.

“Lunch @ 3? My bandmate Peter might come with his girl.”

“Why?”

“She goes to our school.”

“What's her name?”

“First time meeting her.”

“Got it.”

It was so odd. Reality this morning seemed to be my dream. And now I was Merek's girl. I spent almost an hour in my closet trying to figure out if I should dress really cute or kind of casual. I wasn't even sure what mood I was in. If, in my dream, Mama said Noel was coming home, was it because I wanted him to so my mind was just telling me what I wanted? In that case, it wasn't right. Merek was right here. Noel was completely MIA.

The part of me that believed in love knew Mama showing up was different. I felt the weight of the dream in my eyes as I slipped on a pair of dark-rinse skinny jeans and brown riding boots. I put on a white fitted tank top and a khaki hooded sweater. I had my hair in a classic side ponytail.

We lunched at Balthazar downtown, the best French fries in New York. I wished I could tell Sierra more about this Noel news. Since my mother was in it, I didn't want to talk about it. Merek actually found a place to park on the street. “We should pay the meter extra,” I said.

“What a waste of money,” he said.

“How peculiar,” I said.

“It's SoHo. What are you worried about?” he said.

“Whatever.” All I knew was my father once told my mother never to park on the street after she got that ticket. “Don't they tow people's cars?” I said.

“Be real. This is a good space. You don't want to give me superhero points for finding it?”

“Superhero. Wow!” I grabbed his hand and decided to hold on to my thoughts. Sierra seemed to like Merek, which was good. I did like him.

“That is right. You know what, it is. Amazing.”

I just laughed. I've never seen him toot his own horn so much.

“Peter is already here. He got a table for the gang,” Merek continued.

“Awesome.”

I wondered why Sierra had been so curious about Noel on Friday. Maybe all that talk caused my dream. I shrugged.

“What's wrong?”

“What?”

“You did this.” Merek shrugged.

“Involuntary spasm.” I laughed. He laughed. He lifted his arm up and twirled me around. We were dancing our way up Prince Street.