Pride(33)

I sigh. “But what happens if I get into Howard and it’s not for me?”

Janae cocks her head to the side and looks at me just like Mama does. “Then you should go visit.”

“Visit where?”

“Zuri! Howard,” she says.

My insides jump at the idea of going anywhere outside of New York by myself. By myself! But then reality sets in. “Even if Mama and Papi let me go, with what money?” I dip a Buffalo wing into a cup of blue cheese.

Janae pulls out her phone and spends a couple of minutes scrolling. I see her typing something.

She shows me her phone and I read the screen, confused. She’s bought me a round-trip bus ticket to D.C. To Howard. For tomorrow!

I look up at my sister in shock.

“Just go, for a day. I’ll deal with Mama and Papi.”

“Really?” I can barely get the word out, I’m so excited. A whole day to myself, exploring Howard.

“Yes, really. What are big sisters for?”

Of course my whole family has to escort me to Times Square at the crack of dawn, where I’ll be hopping on a six-o’clock bus to D.C. I am so hyped about this trip that I haven’t slept. I keep this giant ball of joy inside me so no one takes it away.

I worry that Papi will change his mind any minute. He’s concerned that I’ll be traveling alone. “I wanna make sure they see my face. And I wanna look each one of those bus passengers in the eye,” he says.

But Mama is excited. It’s starting to sink in that she’s about to have two “baby girls” in college.

Mama packs three Tupperware containers of food for me to eat on the bus, and foil-wrapped snacks to eat over the course of the trip. Marisol typed up a budget for me. I’m supposed to spread out the twenty bucks Papi gave me over the whole day.

And after waving to my family until the bus pulls off, I finally make it out of Manhattan.

I mostly stare out the window, watching this part of the country pass. New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland.

I take selfies and pics of the fast-moving world to send to my sisters and Charlise. I text Warren, but he doesn’t text back right away, like he normally does. The last text I got from him was from last night, telling me to have a safe trip. Him and our almost-kiss linger in my mind as the bus zooms toward D.C.

D.C. is almost like Brooklyn, but much cleaner with way fewer people crowded onto the streets. And less black and brown people too, though I wonder if they’ve been boxed in somewhere else, like in Brooklyn.

“D.C. used to be called Chocolate City,” the woman sitting next to me says. She probably noticed how my face has been glued to the window for almost the whole ride.

“Well, I see a whole lotta vanilla,” I say.

“Yep. I’m from Bed-Stuy. We’re starting to see a whole lotta vanilla there too.”

“Is that happening all over?”

“I don’t know,” the woman says. “I haven’t been to all over. Have you?”

I don’t answer her as the bus pulls into Union Station. From there, I take the Metro north, up to Howard University.

I walk toward the entrance, and it’s exactly how I’ve seen it in videos and pictures. The brown brick buildings are regal. Giant green lawns spread across the campus. It kind of looks like Maria Hernandez Park, but without the playground, or the surrounding brownstones and buildings. Most important, without the new white people. There’s just people like me, as far as my eyes can see. And it already feels like home.

All of Howard is clean and airy. No clutter. No sirens and loud music coming from outside. No bodega gates rolling up, and shopping-cart wheels on jagged sidewalks. Being here expands my whole world much farther than I could’ve ever imagined, and I text Janae one giant THANK-YOU in all caps followed by smiley faces, hearts, and balloons.

We have to meet our tour guides in the Administration Building. Inside, there’s a long table with a sign hanging in the front that reads WELCOME TO HOWARD. Two girls are seated behind it, wearing big smiles and the cutest outfits I’ve ever seen. Their hair is done in long braids, and one of them has fancy designs on her nails. So I walk over to them.

“Hi, Zuri!” one of the girls sings after I introduce myself. “I’m Diane, and this is Sage. We’re juniors here at Howard and we’re student ambassadors.”

Sage gets up to give me a hug over the table. “Okay, Zuri. About ten other prospective applicants will join us for a brief tour, and you can learn about Howard University,” Sage says. While her hug felt real, that little spiel didn’t. But I don’t mind because this must be her job.

In just a few minutes, I’m surrounded by other kids who look about my age. Diane and Sage step away from the table and, with clipboards in hand, lead the group toward the other end of the yard.

“And here we have our Founders Library,” Diane says as we approach a large redbrick building. “Built in 1939, it’s open twenty-four hours a day, so there’ll be no excuse to not get those papers in on time.”

The library is majestic with its glowing white clock tower. I feel smarter just by standing in front of it. There’s enough wide-open space for me to feel like I can actually chase my dreams here, and I’ll be able to reach them too.

Diane and Sage then walk us over to the Tubman Quad. I think of Hope Gardens, back in Bushwick, with its quads too, but with less green grass and cleanliness, and less of just about everything. Thinking of the projects makes me think of Warren, so I snap a pic for him and text, You might wanna rethink Morehouse and come to Howard. I send a grinning face.