The Ring by Florence Osmund

Author:Florence Osmund [Osmund, Florence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

“You don’t know what it’s like to be me in this school, Mom,” Kayla said to Jessivel. “They look at me like I’m from some other planet. I’m such an outcast.”

Kayla’s father had a Caucasian/Black mother and an Asian father, giving him and now Kayla an intercontinental look that most people couldn’t readily identify. Jessivel had not explained her multiracial lineage with her as yet, thinking she was still too young to fully understand it.

“I think you’re overreacting a bit. They’re probably looking at you because they’re jealous that you’re so pretty.”

“Right. Even if they were, which they’re not, I’m the only one who looks like me in the whole school.”

“I find that hard to believe.” They lived in a very diverse neighborhood.

“Well, I am.”

“Even if you are, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah? Try eating lunch all alone every day. At least the other kids have phones they can pretend to be looking at. I don’t even have that. I don’t want to be different, Mom—I want to fit in. And then you make it worse by not letting me do anything.”

“Like what?”

“Like I told you the basketball coach said I was a natural to play, and you wouldn’t let me.”

“Because it costs money—money I don’t have.”

“And look at these clothes. I’m the worst-dressed kid in class. They’re all laughing at me.”

“They are not.”

“How do you know? You’re not there.”

“Aren’t there any kids from around here, in this building, in your class?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen, and how would I know they lived here anyway?”

“Well, you’re going to have to deal with it. Make some friends.”

“It’s not that easy, Mom.”

“Just walk up to someone and start talking. You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Jessivel said.

“I wouldn’t know what to say. I’d sound stupid.”

“Say, ‘Hey, I like your backpack. Where did you get it?’”

“That sounds lame, Mom.”

“So, come up with something else then. It’s not that hard.”

“Right. You do it, if you think it’s so easy,” Kayla said before retreating to her room.

Jessivel pushed Kayla’s concerns aside for the moment to focus on herself. Cassandra had given her two contact names for job leads. She called the job-placement agency first and made an appointment to fill out an application. Then she called Renaldo Vargas at Goodwill Industries and did the same thing. Both indicated that while barista openings were rare, they did come up periodically. When asked if she would consider another type of job, one that required few skills and experience, she responded in the negative, as she feared that could mean becoming her mother and cleaning toilets for a living.

Disheartened and depressed, Jessivel gave serious consideration to her situation and whether she would find it better elsewhere—some other city, state, or even country—away from her nagging mother, snobby coffee drinkers, pain-in-the-ass Paige, and the constant reminder that her father wasn’t around to care for her anymore. She pictured herself driving on a wide-open road with Chicago disappearing in her rearview mirror, the breeze from an open window blowing the past out of her hair.

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