Malaika had tweaked the figures, working based on assumptions that she’d be able to find inexpensive, high-quality fabrics to make her designs come to life, but it seemed impossible. She makes US$240 a week. She doesn’t have a lot of expenses—the Dewars don’t charge her extra for her room, which is even more comfortable than any of the rooms at the Euler—but it still isn’t enough to buy the materials she needs. She needs to find a way to raise thousands of dollars by January at the latest.
This is why she wants to break her phone and its stupid calculator.
“I need to find a way,” Malaika says.
“Maybe we can find you a sponsor?” Calan nods and pulls up his phone. There’s a turquoise blue pillow on his lap. Calan rests his phone on it and thumbs away at it.
Malaika turns her gaze to Allegra, who is entertaining herself wonderfully today, humming an unfamiliar tune as she holds two dolls in her hands. Their clothes will be dirty by the time they go home—both Allegra’s and the dolls’—but Malaika doesn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. Playtime should be messy.
That’s when she sees them, two figures on the sidewalk staring at them.
“Aren’t those your friends?” Malaika asks, looking at Ralph and Andy.
The two of them march over in their direction. The look on Calan’s face suggests he would rather they didn’t. He gets up as Ralph and Andy make their way inside the property, their feet stomping over the Dewars’ neatly mowed grass. Malaika doesn’t move. She hopes Calan will tell the boys to leave, Andy especially. He makes her uncomfortable. Something about him reminds her of Hans. She is done with men, which is why she is happy Calan is still a boy.
Twenty-Two
Calan
Sunday, September 29th
Calan is deeply confused by Ralph’s presence in his house. They’re not friends.
They’re in the kitchen, standing in front of the open refrigerator. Ralph mentioned he was thirsty and, even though Calan wants Ralph and Andy to leave as quickly as possible, he couldn’t help but offer to grab him some iced tea or soda. It’s what his mom always does when they have guests over.
“So how’s it going?” Ralph reaches inside the fridge for a 7 Up. “Sweet, I haven’t had these in so long.” He pops the can open, takes a swig, and lets out a satisfied aah. To say that he seems perfectly at ease in Calan’s kitchen would be an understatement. What would his mom think if she were to walk in right now? Would she assume Calan has friends? Would that cheer her up? Calan would do anything to see his mom smile again. He’d even put up with having Andy and Ralph in his house. Since his dad moved out, his mom seems to be sinking into a whirlpool of sadness. She puts on a brave face. She doesn’t cry in front of him, doesn’t mention their separation or Eva Stone or anything unpleasant. But Calan knows his mom. He can tell she’s hurting, and that it’s only getting worse.
“Let’s head out?” Calan says to Ralph. He doesn’t wait for an answer, leading him back outside. He doesn’t like the idea of Malaika and Andy together.
Calan is pretty sure Malaika doesn’t think he’s gay, but she isn’t interested in him, either. He feels disappointed but not discouraged. All the best love stories begin with a friendship between a goofy guy and a girl who is way out of his league. And that’s what they are: friends. Real friends. It’s not just in his head. Other people see it, too. Even his body has caught up with the new development: he no longer has uncontrollable hard-ons when she’s around. He’s still attracted to her (obviously) but he’s also comfortable in her presence. They’re like Clark Kent and Louis Lane. All he needs to do is find a way to make her see him as Superman.
“Isn’t your brother supposed to be at Syracuse?” Calan asks, as they step outside, the sun flooding their faces. Andy is talking to Malaika. Calan can’t see her expression from this angle. He hopes she isn’t smiling.
Ralph shrugs. “I don’t keep track of his schedule.” His tone is almost nice. Ever since Ralph saw Malaika talking to Calan, he’s been friendlier. Well, friendlier is probably an overstatement, but he has said hi to Calan in school, and he has pretty much stopped calling him Candy Flakes.
“She’s not interested in him,” Calan blurts out.
Ralph looks at him curiously. “Andy isn’t getting that vibe.” He takes another swig of his soda. “Besides, what do you care? Don’t tell me you think you have a chance?”
Calan looks away, feeling his cheeks burn. Being friend’s with Malaika has upped his stock, but if he admits to having a crush on her, he’ll be demoted to an even bigger loser than he had been before. He can spell delusional.
Calan shrugs and beelines toward Andy and Malaika. Ralph is behind him.
“Are you on Instagram?” Andy is asking her.
Calan places two cans of 7 Up next to Malaika’s phone and takes a seat at the edge of one of the lounge chairs. The chair emits a squeaky noise when he sits down, which makes his face heat up. Luckily, no one seems to notice.
“No,” Malaika mutters, setting her phone on the side table. She sounds annoyed. Good. Andy should take a hint and leave.
“So, if you ever want to party,” Andy begins, removing a small ziplock bag from his pocket. “I’m your guy.”
Calan eyes the weed, curious to see Malaika’s reaction. He’s never tried
