My rubber suit was the perfect accessory for anyone facing fear, change, disorientation. It had a hood that functioned like a helmet. You could bang your head on a wall and feel no pain. It had been consigned to me by Alo on a cold night, and one of its perks was to insulate you from climate conditions. Also you never saw what you were doing because rubber got in the way, protecting and isolating you at the same time. I started going through my day as if it were one of those dreams where you can’t see clearly even though your eyes are open. My peripheral vision was blocked by the suit’s substance, and I filled that unknown space with the presence of sex, as much as I could, as hard as I could. Whatever it took to get noticed.
I started with Arash because even though he was cocky and spat from classroom windows, he was my secret protector, was occasionally nice to me, and smelled of dryer sheets and flannel. There were traces of talcum powder in his skin that made me think he was sheltered and loved like an overgrown baby. The scent of his clothes spoke of mothers who did laundry and prepared lunch bags—dutiful, reliable mothers who owned machines that washed and dried clothes. We, of course, did not own a dryer. In our lives there was no space for “real thrills,” as my grandmother called them. The dryer—that was the true frontier, and the fact that my father refused to purchase one confirmed what she always thought of him: He was all talk. We were the only ones in our neighborhood with a clothesline in our garden, a reimagined Neapolitan alleyway. My grandmother’s oversize faux-silk underwear from Ross Dress for Less hung over the blow-up pool, firm and heavy like chastity belts. But my father didn’t care. If grandma didn’t like our house she was most welcome to return to Rome. It wasn’t like he was dying to live with her.
—
My English teacher realized I didn’t enjoy spitting out the window or making her cry like the other students did. I could read and write and even liked doing it. She gave me a library pass to go and read on my own during class. It was our secret. I’d be one less person to have to worry about and nobody except for Arash was going to notice my absence. During those stretches of time to myself I often spied on the girl with freckles who hopped fences. I examined the natural flow she had in closing and opening portals, climbing walls, disappearing behind staircases. She was agile and fearless and I wanted to be like her. She waited for the tardy bell to ring so the hallways would be empty and, just before the security guards started their rounds, she opened the doors and escaped. That’s how I discovered that the side doors in school did not lock after you shut them.
I never knew where she disappeared to until the day I followed her. We exchanged glances as she stood on the threshold of the side doors. She smiled warmly when she saw me, then put a finger to her lips to suggest we were to operate quietly.
“Wanna come with me?” she said in a husky voice. She had a look that said goodbye at the exact moment it was saying hello. I could not turn away from her darting eyes and freckled cheeks. She was hypnotic, like one of those precious stones from a treasure chest in a Walt Disney movie. A big gem that sparkled under any light, so beautiful it hurt.
She slipped away from me. Before the doors could shut behind her, I stepped out using a foot to prop one of them open. I stood midway between the school hall and the outside world, staring at her, in awe of her moves. The outer school fence had two small holes, just big enough to fit a climbing foot. The girl slid her toes into the first one, then inserted the other foot into the second hole and pushed herself up. When she reached the top of the fence, she looked back at me with dazed green eyes, the wind blowing in her swaying ponytail. She squeezed her thumb and index together and pointed them toward the sun, pinching out a drop of light. She pointed her fingers toward my eyelids.
“There you are, some light in your eyes. That’s all you need to hop over. Just look at the sun. Think of the other side. Don’t ever think of what’s behind you.”
Just like that she was free.
“Don’t tell anyone about the holes, okay? I made them myself.” Then she smiled. In a few moments she was speeding down the sidewalk.
I stayed there, looking at her like a dumb thing, stuck between two worlds, my foot still propping the door open. When she reached the end of the sidewalk she looked back at me and pointed to the sun again.
“Just look up and keep moving!”
I waved at her awkwardly, but she was already gone. I looked at the fence and knew I wouldn’t do it. I cowered back inside the school building and heard the door shut behind me. I didn’t have the courage to take those risks alone. I kept roaming the hall and made my way outside to a hidden cement spot by a fire hydrant where the sun shone. I preferred reading there rather than in the library. Nobody ever came. On the path I passed by Ajane and her friends. I knew when to look away now, how to distance myself from them so words and provocations would not be uttered. In the quad, cheerleaders arranged themselves in diamond-shaped choreographies to the rhythm of a Snap! song. I kept moving until I reached my safe corner. A small hibiscus shrub grew there. I lay on the concrete. The school’s marching band practiced nearby. Proud trumpets echoed in my ear. I felt my legs open on the hot ground. A whiff of ocean made its way across the canyons. If I closed my eyes I could smell salt in the air. I thought about what the ponytail girl said about heading for the sun and not looking back. I saw her fingers pinching light and placing it in my eyes. I pretended I was on a Mediterranean beach and let the rays fill the dark circles around my sockets.
“Hey Greece,” a voice called to me. “What’s up with not coming to class?”
There was Arash, alone, in a white T-shirt against the blue sky. And that’s when I chose him.
Two days later it was the two of us swinging open the school’s side doors. We went to the fence and I showed him where to put his feet to climb up. We threw our backpacks to the other side so they wouldn’t get in the way, and when I reached the top I looked at the sun and told myself everything was easy and safe. I didn’t look back, just like the girl said. We jumped down to the other side and started running. On a residential street we laughed and panted and took each other’s hands. We were alone and the Valley was quiet, almost beautiful. The few green bumps that gave Woodland Hills its name looked like imperial knolls to me now.
Arash pulled me closer to him.
“You’re a ballsy chick. How did you know about that fence?”
“Just don’t tell your friends.”