The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson

Author:Alaya Dawn Johnson [Johnson, Alaya Dawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Emotions & Feelings, Social Issues, Adolescence
ISBN: 9780545417792
Google: ULu9SDvR8awC
Amazon: 0545417791
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2013-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

“He asked for her to come,” Auntie Yaha says.

She and Mother sit beside each other at the table, though they don’t touch. Across from them, I pick at an acarajé patty that has gone cold while they argue.

“I don’t see why June should meet with some disgraced foreign dignitary. What if he tries to get her to trade sex for city secrets?”

“I don’t have any city secrets, Mother. And I promise, I’m in no danger of sleeping with him.”

Mother rolls her eyes. “It’s all you wakas do these days, isn’t it? I watch the holos, since you won’t tell me anything anymore. I see how you are around that negro prince —”

“You mean the summer king —”

“I mean the one who has turned himself into an international incident! Gil is one thing, that waka mother of his couldn’t raise a cat, but you, June —”

“Valencia! June!” Auntie Yaha reaches across the table, touching my hand and quieting me before I start to scream something Mother really won’t forgive.

“Enki is the summer king, like him or not,” she says. “But, June, it would be nice if you could tell your mother and me more about what you do, so we don’t have to worry so much.”

I roll my eyes. “If by ‘worry’ you mean ‘scream at me,’ then no thanks.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t have to scream if you weren’t neglecting any hope of your future to participate in this waka orgy.”

“Who I have sex with is none of your business, Mother.”

“So you are sleeping with him!”

“What were you, a nun at seventeen?”

“I wasn’t an attention whore, throwing myself at celebrities every night.”

“You’re jealous that I’m famous.”

“I’m embarrassed that my daughter doesn’t know how to comport herself in public.”

I’m suddenly so tired of this. I don’t even know how to speak to her without yelling anymore. So I stand. “I’ll be happy to go to dinner with you, Auntie Yaha,” I say.

“June,” she says, a note in her voice closer to pleading than I’ve ever heard. “Sit down. You and your mother —”

“Are never going to work it out. You should really stop trying.”

I leave, and Auntie Yaha doesn’t call me back. Mother doesn’t even look at me.

She is my mother and I hate her. But I wish that I didn’t.

I want to go to the park, or my grotto in the walkway, or even school to talk to Bebel, but I just can’t bear the feeling of a city’s eyes on me right now, so I hide in my room.

I ping Gil a few times, but he doesn’t respond. I flip on my holo and see why: at least four feeds of him and Enki sharing an afternoon picnic in Royal Park. Sebastião has a clip on repeat of Enki reaching into the white pulpy flesh of a durian fruit and Gil licking it off his fingers. My heart starts to race just looking, so I shut everything off and wonder if I might scream. I dreamed of fame, back when Gil and I were just two anonymous wakas.

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