Pretty by Justin Sayre

Author:Justin Sayre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2017-05-30T09:47:56+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Because I feel bad about lying to him, I walk home with Ryan again. It’s a nice thing too. I like him, but it’s weird that you can talk to a person and hold their hand and walk home with them for days, and still they can know you so little. He doesn’t really ask about me. He tells me a lot, and I like listening.

His hand is still clammy, but I almost find that cute now. And he repeats his stories. I mean, I feel like I’ve heard about him getting lost in the park at least three times. When he asks about my day, he asks questions that I think a boyfriend or whatever should ask, but they’re just silly things. He never gets into anything else, and even if he did I don’t know what I would tell him.

There’s still nothing from Janet. I’ve gotten so used to being without her, I sometimes forget she’s coming back. Ryan doesn’t know any of this. He just smiles his cutest goofy smile when I leave him at the gate. I should really ask him in, but I put it off. I can let Auntie meet him another day. He’s talking a lot about going to the movies tomorrow night. He’s super excited about it, but I don’t know what he’s expecting us to do. I mean besides the movie. We’re thirteen and neither of us has money to go into Manhattan or go out to dinner or anything. I’m trying not to laugh at how serious he’s taking all this when a lady with her dog walks past us and gives us a look.

She stares at us for a minute before she starts pretending she wasn’t. She starts to look at where her little dog might go, but she’s really just pretending not to be staring at us, which has her one step away from fully rolling her eyes or saying eww. Ryan doesn’t notice any of this. He wouldn’t even if he saw it, but I do because I know exactly what she’s doing. None of her covering hides it from me.

Every day you go out in the world and you’re just like everybody else, at least you think you are. Maybe you have things worse than others, maybe your mother is a crazy screaming drunk who cares more about organizing her issues of Vogue than about feeding herself or you. Maybe you have to get up early to sneak out all her bottles without anyone noticing and only tell the truth to an embarrassed girl whose grandmother is digging through your trash. The specifics of your day might be different or unusual, but deep down you’re just like everybody else. You’re normal, if there’s even such a thing as normal at all. But then some old lady walking her dog stops cold and takes a minute to let you know that no, you’re not normal, you’re black.

And you’re holding a white boy’s hand near Prospect Park, and that’s not normal either.

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