Silver Sparrow

She laughed. “Why do people think that is the only problem a girl can have?”

“Are you?”

“I thought I was one time.”

“Me, too.”

“It was stupid because I’m on the Pil .”

“Me, too!”

“But nothing is foolproof.”

The coincidences were making me loopy. “I know!”

She smiled and moved her hand like she was going to touch me, but she didn’t.

“I have too many things on my mind. I’m applying to Mount Holyoke,” she said. “Early decision. Where are you going to col ege?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Where are you applying?”

I shrugged. “A lot of places.”

“Mount Holyoke?”

“If it’s one of the sisters, I did, but Spelman is the only one I care about.”

“If you got in, would you go?”

“I guess,” I said. “But don’t change the subject. Tel me how come you’re here.”

She raised her eyebrows and pul ed her hand through her high ponytail. “Maybe I just wanted to be friends.”

I hated how she talked to me. I just want to be friends. People who real y wanted to be your friend didn’t say things like that. If they real y wanted to be your friend, they just did it. They just took your hand, listened to you talk.

“Don’t turn your face away from me,” she said. “I real y came over here to thank you for saving me in the store that time.” She gave a wobbly smile. “You can fix my hair for me if you want to.”

There was a knock on the floor. My mother, in the shop, was jabbing the ceiling with a broomstick.

“I got to get back downstairs,” I said. “I’m on the clock.”

“She pays you to work in the store?”

“Five dol ars an hour.”

“Are you close to your dad?”

I said, “More when I was little. It’s different now that I’m growing up.”

“Me, too,” she said with a bit of a sigh. She waved her hand to indicate her face and chest. “He can’t deal with it.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean. He can’t deal, and he doesn’t even know the half of it.”

“Exactly,” said Dana.

“I gotta get back downstairs,” I said. “You want a wash-and-set or not?”

“I want to see your room,” she said.

“Next time.”

She turned around the kitchen, pivoting on her left foot.

“Your kitchen isn’t anything special.”

“Who said it was?”

When we were leaving, I heard her brass bangles rattle as she slipped my father’s napkin into her fake Louis Vuitton.

We entered the shop through the back door. My mother was blow-drying the client I had shampooed. According to the big clock with shears as hands, we had only been gone fifteen minutes.

“Everybody come back to their senses?” Mama said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dana said.

“Good,” Mama said to her with a kind smile. “Come back another day and we’l do you something pretty.”

“Tomorrow?” Dana asked.

“Not tomorrow,” my mama said. “I got plans.” She batted her eyes and al the customers laughed. “My husband is taking me to dinner, so I wil be trying to do something with my own hair.” Then she said to Dana, “Now don’t go cutting in your head before we see you again.”

“No, ma’am,” Dana said. She was like a different person now. At first I thought she was trying not to laugh, but now it seemed like she was trying not to cry.

“Show yourself out,” Mama said. “Chaurisse has work to do.”