I jump up: today is Nia’s birthday, one week after mine. I get to the bedroom door and think bout going in, but then decide to knock instead. It feels stupid, but no matter what Nia do, I can’t help but come back to her. Even when deep down, I feel like she ain’t ever gon’ be my friend again; not like before. Before, it was me and Nia on a team against everybody else. Now I’m on a team fighting all alone.
“Come in,” Nia answers, sounding far away. When I open the door, she’s in the closet, probably changing her clothes. I check the tiny alarm clock Nia keeps by the bed. Six thirty a.m. I wonder if she went to sleep somewhere sometime last night, or if she gon’ sleep now that it’s day. I start to ask, but say, “Happy birthday,” instead, forcing my tired face into a smile.
She don’t even poke her head out from the closet, just yells, “Thanks!” My shoulders slump and my gaze falls, but I stay planted in the same spot. Eventually, Nia emerges from the closet wearing a fresh outfit and a smile on her face. She sits down in front of the mirror and starts unbraiding her hair with quick fingers.
As I stand there in the middle of the room, watching Nia, I’m torn between wanting to be just like her and wanting to be nothin’ like her. Some stuff bout Nia is the best stuff in the world—like how she can look at me and know just what I’m thinking, and how she’s the only person in the world who shares all my same stories, all my same memories. But what I don’t get is why she wants to let those memories go, when so much of them is bout us. Bout us as friends, as sisters, and as a family.
Before I turn to go, I take one last look at Nia in the mirror. My big sister, and probably the only person who could help me now, if she wanted to. I accidentally catch my own reflection in the mirror beside Nia. I’m surprised to see that after all that’s happened, I still look the same.
* * *
I’m rinsing the pizza crumbs from my plate when Granddaddy comes home later that morning. He walks in and smiles at me from the door, which is enough to bring back the lump in my throat.
“Granddaddy, what you doin’ here?” I say, smiling now. “I thought you wasn’t gon’ be back til later.”
“I couldn’t miss Nia’s birthday!” He hobbles to the couch, sittin’ down hard. I sit beside him, grab his hand, and give it a quick squeeze. I ain’t been able to get through to Nia, so I’m happy Granddaddy came back for her. Even though she doin’ a bunch of stuff I don’t understand—sneaking out with boys and kissing cousins and not crying for Daddy—I still want her to be happy. Especially on her birthday.
“Granddaddy!” Nia’s running from the bedroom, then turns the corner to find me and Granddaddy together on the couch and stops. For the first time, I wonder if I’m keeping Nia from being close with Granddaddy. I always felt like Nia was the reason I wasn’t so close with Daddy, cause by the time I came around she was already his little angel. Whenever he had to pick just one of us to go with him somewhere, like on a walk to the store or a ride cross town to his barbershop, he would always pick her. Maybe this is like that.
“Happy birthday,” Granddaddy says to Nia, patting the other spot beside him on the couch. Nia looks at me, hesitates, then accepts. We sit there, the three of us, without saying nothin’。 I imagine how we look, Granddaddy and his girls. Maybe like a family, almost. Not like the kind you see on TV, but close.
Eventually, Granddaddy breaks the silence, looking right at Nia. “So, what does a big fifteen-year-old girl do to celebrate her birthday?” Nia blushes, then smiles.
“Well,” she starts, “I was thinking maybe I could go with my friends to—”
I tune out the rest. Figures she wants to be with her friends. I wonder if Momma will call and sing my special birthday song to Nia, or if Nia will be too busy with her friends to even talk to Momma if she does call. I trudge past Granddaddy’s fishing stuff, still beside the front door. I wonder if he caught any fish, but I don’t see none. Maybe one day Granddaddy might take me fishing with him. I bet it would be nice to sit there, quiet, nothin’ but all that water to look at and listen to and enjoy.
The sun is full up now, but ain’t nobody outside yet, nothin’ moving. That’s when I remember Charlotte’s bike. Nia and Granddaddy still busy talking; they ain’t even notice that I had the worst thing ever happen to me, so they sure ain’t gon’ notice when I leave. I gotta make sure I keep my promise to Charlotte.
Her bike is beside the bushes, right where I left it last night. Feels like years ago now. I hold the handlebars and roll the bike cross the street, thinking bout the whole summer, and when I put it all together, seems like Lansing been more bad than good. I thought I had already lost everything, then came here and lost even more. But I did meet Bobby and Charlotte. Besides Granddaddy, they bout the only bright spot in all of Lansing.
As I walk the bike cross the street, I wonder if I might tell Charlotte bout what happened with Rondell. It felt good to tell her bout Daddy, so maybe it will feel good to have somebody to talk to bout this, too. Before I reach the sidewalk, Charlotte is already running out her front door. I wave as I roll her bike up the driveway. That’s when I notice her face don’t look quite right. She ain’t smiling, but it’s more than that. Her face looks sad and scared, all at once. The screen door swings shut behind her, but then opens again, right away.
Her momma’s face is bright red like the burner on the stove when it’s turned up too high. She storms down the driveway looking straight at me. I bet I got Charlotte in trouble for keeping her bike too long. I look over at her to try to apologize with my eyes, but she won’t even look at me.
“Give it back!” Charlotte’s momma screams, and I turn my head to see if somebody is walking up behind me, but ain’t nobody over here cept me.
“Give it back,” she repeats, even louder now. I look at Charlotte’s bike, then look at Charlotte.
“I’m here to bring Charlotte’s bike back,” I whisper, not sure what’s going on. I meet Charlotte’s momma in the middle of the driveway and pass the handlebars over to her.
“You better bring it back,” Charlotte’s momma screams, snatching the bike so hard it falls to the ground. Out the corner of my eye, I can see Charlotte cringe at the noise. “Don’t you ever steal from us again!”
“Steal?” I ask, even more confused than before. I pull my fingers, one by one.
“Yes, steal!” She shoots fire at me with her eyes. I look back at Granddaddy’s house, where him and Nia probably still on the couch planning her birthday. Somehow, I’m alone again, in another bad place.
But then Bobby comes racing out the front door, and I’m saved. He’s gon’ stand up for me, even though Charlotte can’t. I know she’s just too scared to tell her momma the truth, that she gave me the bike to borrow.
“I ain’t steal nothin’，” I whisper, scared. “Charlotte told me I could use her bike if I brought it back this morning.” I try to look at Charlotte and then Bobby, but they both staring at the ground.
“Liar,” they momma screams. “She said no such thing!” She picks up the bike and holds it between me and her like a shield. “Right, Charlotte?” She turns to Charlotte, still on the porch with Bobby beside her. Charlotte hears her name and her whole face turns pale as a ghost. “Right, Charlotte?”