“Is there a bus I can take to school tomorrow?” I asked. I’d decided I didn’t want to miss any more days. There was the quiz in English, and Helena said she loved my new coat.
She tugged down on the hem of her T-shirt. “I told Mike—Mr. Bergstrom—I’d drive you to school in the mornings on my way to work, if you don’t mind getting up with the birds. You’ll have to take a bus home, though. Or, if you want, you could come to the library where I work to do your homework and I can bring you home.” When I first heard “home,” I thought of the apartment; then I realized she meant here, her house.
Tears rushed up. I turned from her and moved pillows around, sniffing, wiping my face with my sleeve.
“I’ll leave you alone unless you need anything.”
I nodded, and kept my back to the door until I heard it close.
I didn’t sleep. My tattoo itched all night.
The only breakfast options she had were oatmeal and eggs.
“I like to keep my choices simple,” she said. She wore the same high-waisted jeans and sandals with socks she’d had on the night before. This time her T-shirt was blue and had a bald eagle on it.
We decided on oatmeal. The parakeets had been moved into the kitchen with us. “They like to eat when I eat,” she said.
I watched Edith and Edgar hop from the perch to their seeds, back to the perch, back to the seeds. “How can you tell them apart?” I asked.
“I can’t always. Edgar is a liiiiitle bit bigger, aren’t you, Edgar?”
Both birds chirped.
Dixie wasn’t at school again until the next week. I saw her in the cafeteria, walking in with Lia and wearing her new leggings, a long-sleeved Bleach T-shirt, and her blue Docs. It seemed like forever since that day on the ferry. I crossed the cafeteria to her. Aside from maybe Lia—who was apparently good at keeping Dixie’s secrets—I don’t think anyone at school had any idea what was going on. No one looked at me or her any differently than they always had. I already felt more calm, though, less like something bad was about to happen.
“Hey,” I said to Dixie and Lia.
“Hi,” Lia said, a little nicer than usual.
Dixie said to Lia, “Save me a place in line.” Lia left, and Dixie slipped her backpack off and knelt to the floor. She pulled out a plastic grocery bag, stuffed full. “I thought you might want some clothes.” She held the bag out to me.
“Thanks,” I said, and opened it to see what she’d brought. I didn’t recognize anything. It was all new, with tags on. Some jeans, some T-shirts and hoodies.
“Me and Mom went shopping and I thought . . .” She shrugged.
“You went shopping? After everything we already spent?”
“Mom decided to let him pay back some of the child support. Well, more like she made him and said if he didn’t, she’d tell someone about the money.”
I didn’t think they should be spending back child support on more brand-new clothes, but I took the bag and didn’t say anything about it. Their problems weren’t mine anymore. “Thanks. I’ve been washing this outfit like every night, so this is good.”
“You’ll like what I picked out. Gotta keep your new style up.” She glanced across the cafeteria, then back at me. “What’s it like at that lady’s house?”
“I like it. She has pet birds.”
She put her backpack on again and pulled a felt-tip pen out of her pocket. “Give me your hand.”
I held out my palm. It was the arm with the tattoo, which showed because my sleeves were pushed up. The pen ink was cool and wet.
“This is the number of that phone we got. Call me when you get a new one so I have yours.”
I nodded.
“Do you want anything else? From home?”
“No. You can get rid of everything, and have your own room, finally.”
“What if you—” One of Dixie’s guy friends had come running up behind her and grabbed her shoulders to surprise her. “Shit!” she shrieked. “Don’t do that, asshole,” she said, and pushed him away, laughing.
“I’ll see you later,” I said, before she could finish asking: What if you come back?
“Yeah,” she said. “See you later.”
29.
I KEPT adding little bits to my family history for Mr. Bergstrom. He didn’t ask for it, but I found myself coming in with new pages almost every week. I was remembering more about my mom, more about my dad—sometimes good things that made me doubt myself again and wonder why I couldn’t just have waited to leave until after graduation. Mr. Bergstrom reminded me that nothing and no one is all good or all bad, and that’s what makes it so complicated. He also said I had a tendency to downplay my problems or compare them to other people’s and that I shouldn’t do that. He said people like me, with my kind of background, had to be careful to not abandon ourselves by thinking our problems are not important or not big deals. They can be big deals to us, even if they aren’t to anyone else.
“Abandonment is what you learned,” he said. “It will always be your first instinct.”
Leaving, running. He says it will probably be something I’ll want to do again at some point, but right now I find that hard to believe. I didn’t want to leave Mrs. Murphy’s that whole year, and no one made me.
Anyway, whether I remember a good thing or a bad thing, no matter how small it is, I add it to the history.
I remember how Dixie told me my dad said I had a good singing voice. I don’t think she’d make it up.
I remember there was this one time from when Dixie was a baby and my parents were too tired to get up and make me breakfast, and I came into their room looking for them and they didn’t get up but Mom said, “Just crawl in.” She scooted over to make room for me. I climbed over her and lay down in the warm space between their bodies. We stayed there a long time.
That was all I had, but I was sure I’d think of more, remember more. At least I hoped I would.
I even did a part for my history all about Mr. Bergstrom, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through it reading aloud without getting all emotional. So I just sort of stuck it in his hand right at the end of one of our appointments.
He worked hard with all my teachers to make sure I graduated. When I did, I wanted so bad to get him a present but I didn’t have any money. After the ceremony, he gave me a little box and when I opened it later it had some gift cards for clothes, groceries, phone minutes. He asked if he could hug me and I said yes, and I couldn’t help but cry a little bit. I think he did, too.