What Lies Beyond the Veil(Of Flesh & Bone #1)(28)

Porsha hops away quick, yelling, “Polo!” so I do the same. I yell fast and try to swim, throwing my body forward with arms and legs flailing. I sink right to the bottom instead, swallowing two cheeks full of water as I go. I push off the bottom and explode up from the water fast, coughing and coughing and watching for Dominique.

“Marco,” she screams, right beside me now.

“Polo,” responds Porsha, but I don’t. I make a move to escape, but Dominique catches the edge of my shorts in her hands. “Gotcha!” Dominique pops her eyes open with a smirk. Porsha hops back over to us. Now I think I am Marco, and I don’t wanna play no more.

“You gotta close your eyes and count to ten,” explains Porsha. She seems almost as nervous as me. Dominique swims off toward the deep end. I’m gon’ drown if I close my eyes in the water, I just know it. I look around for Nia and finally find her, standing with the group of boys. Brittany is talking, and all the boys listen, cept one, who’s too busy looking at Nia wringing water from her curls.

“Come on, close your eyes!” Dominique yells from cross the pool. Porsha ain’t too far away yet and smiles at me from her spot by the pool wall.

I sigh and close my eyes, prepared to die. “Marco,” I barely whisper.

“Polo!” Their voices come from nowhere. I leave a small slit open at the bottom of my eyes but still am lost. I take one tiny step forward, float my arms out around me.

“Marco.” A bit louder this time, but still no more than a murmur.

“Polo!” Through my secret peeking hole, I see brown feet in the water. I lunge forward and wrap my arms around a solid bulk.

“Gotcha!” I squeal, proud. I open my eyes and see the grip I have around the sturdy, tanned neck of the second-biggest boy. He grins big so that all his teeth show. I throw my arms down too fast, spraying water cross both our faces.

“Sorry,” I whisper. If I was white, I bet my skin would be lit red like flames. But luckily my yellow skin don’t give me away. I keep my head and eyes low, hoping I might disappear.

“Eww, you wanna kiss my cousin!” Dominique screeches, swimming our way with puckered lips and batting eyes. I think the boy is blushing, but his skin is too dark to tell. I look up and find him looking at me. His eyes are coals, cept right near the middle where they melt into dark chocolate. All his full features make him look like a cartoon. Wide nose, thick lips, and coarse hair on his head that he wears in two fat braids.

“It’s okay,” he says finally. I don’t know if I should leave or stay. I wanna stay, but I ain’t ever had a boy looking at me like this one. “My name is Rondell. What’s yours?”

By now Dominique has swum over and Porsha has half hopped, half swum over, and them and all the boys are together in front of me. I stare down at my wavy feet in the blue water. “Kenyatta,” I whisper to all of ’em, but Rondell smiles like my answer is only his. I feel like they are all staring at me and I want it to stop. I look at Rondell and have an idea.

“You’re it,” I shout in his direction, then run-walk through the water before anyone can stop me. My plan works. I hear everybody splashing as they swim away from Rondell. He closes his eyes and counts. I am free.

We laugh and play til my fingertips wrinkle. Marco Polo, then tag, then volleyball with an old beach ball someone left behind. Once they figure out that I can’t swim, everybody takes turns tryna teach me how. I don’t wanna leave when Nia finds me and tells me it’s time to go. I notice that boy is still looking at her as we walk away. And Rondell is still looking at me.



* * *





Granddaddy is waiting in the car when we reach the parking lot. I can’t tell if he’s been there the whole time or just pulled up. We climb in the back seat, hair dripping puddles on the cold leather. In the locker room, we changed into dresses. Nia’s is long, to her ankles, the color of ripe watermelon. When she walks, the dress pools at her feet like she’s walking on water. My dress is just an ugly blue-jean thing I got from the secondhand store. It stops just above my knees, ashy now since I ain’t put no lotion on after the pool. I lick my thumb and rub a smear of spit through the chalky white, wishing my dress hid my knees, like Nia’s.

“You girls like shopping?” Granddaddy speaks his first words since we got in the car, as he slows to a stop at a yellow light. I reach my hand down under the seat, where I hid my book when we left the house this morning.

“Yes!” Nia screams. I quickly sit back up. I think Granddaddy’s chuckling, but the quiet rumble is gone before I can tell.

“Good,” he replies. “We gon’ go see the new mall. I gotta find a new pair of pants for church tomorrow, and maybe a little something extra.” Granddaddy winks at me through the rearview mirror. I hope this means he finally ain’t mad at me no more for asking bout Momma.

We drive for a while to get to the mall. The digital clock on Granddaddy’s dashboard ain’t moved since 5:45 a.m. some morning, so I can’t tell how long we been driving. But I count thirty-three traffic lights and read fifteen pages of my book, so I know it’s far.

The mall is a squat, gray building. I don’t think it’s too big til we drive around. Then the building stretches cross enough space to fill bout three of our malls back in Detroit. The parking lot is filled from end to end with cars. Granddaddy circles around to find a space to park. People walk past us with arms full of bags, stuffed to the top with clothes and shoes and who knows what else. I ain’t ever seen this many people out shopping. For one, Momma never takes us to the mall. Seems like people in Detroit would rather spend their money on cigarettes and beer and lotto tickets than new clothes and shoes.