Watch Us Rise(59)

“It’s Harlem Shake,” I remind her. “Look, if we make this a big deal, they will be freaked out. We just have to act like we’re eating in the cafeteria. Like it’s nothing that they are coming all the way to Harlem to see us.” When I say this, my stomach flips and I realize how nervous I am even though I’ve had meals with Isaac before. Even though we’ve been to Harlem Shake countless times. Maybe it’s because Chelsea and James will be with us. Maybe it’s because I do want to spend time with Isaac and not just as friends. I don’t let myself think about it because we’ve been friends for so long maybe that’s all we’re supposed to be. Maybe things would change too much if we tried a relationship.

When Chelsea and I get off the train, Harlem welcomes us like only Harlem can. As soon as we walk up the steps we hear drumming, and two men are standing at the top of the entrance handing out flyers. We keep walking, but the tourists next to us take them. We walk from the C Train on 125th and St. Nicholas to Lenox Avenue. On the way, we pass Lane Bryant, and I see that they are having a sale. “Let’s come back after we eat,” I say to Chelsea.

At the corner of 125th and Lenox, a group of men are standing near the entrance of the Whole Foods passing out pamphlets and preaching about Jesus being the white man’s savior. We turn right and walk one block to Harlem Shake. As soon as we go in Chelsea says, “I am ordering a burger, fries, and shake. No girly eating, whatever that means. I know they have vegan burgers and turkey burgers and ‘I’m on a diet’ burgers, but I want beef today. I’m hungry.”

I laugh.

“What?”

“I love you, Chels.”

We sit down and wait for James and Isaac. Harlem Shake looks like a vintage seventies diner. The walls are covered with photos of celebrities who also love burgers and shakes. The Wall of Fro is my favorite. It showcases local customers and the different sizes and shapes of their Afros. I also like the bathroom walls. They are wallpapered with JET Magazine covers. Yearly the customers vote on a new Mr. or Miss Harlem Shake from the community. Every few seconds, Isaac texts me his status. Just got off the train and Walking over now and Just passed Whole Foods. When they come in, the four of us hug each other. When Isaac lets me out of his embrace, he says, “I was worried about you.”

“Worried?”

“Well, yeah. I thought maybe you left school because you were, I don’t know, upset or something. A lot has happened recently, and I just . . . never mind—”

I take Isaac’s hand. “Thank you.”

He holds my hand tight, and I don’t let go. Just let it stay in his palm, let my hand warm his because he has just come in from January’s bitter cold. We walk over to the line, still holding hands. Chelsea looks over at me, her eyes bulging out, mouth bursting with a smile. The four of us order.

We get burgers, fries, and shakes.

After we finish eating, we stay a while and keep talking. We’ve seen customers go in and out and in and out, ordering, eating their food, and leaving, and still we are here. Chelsea is in the middle of telling us what movie she wants to see this weekend when James’s phone buzzes. He looks at it and quickly puts it away. “We should go,” James says. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

Chelsea kicks me under the table.

James’s phone buzzes again. This time he keys a text and sends it.

Part of me wants to say to James, Great—it’s a date. Let’s all go. But the other part of me wants to say, Who are you texting? Is it Meg? I couldn’t do that to Chelsea, though, so I just sit and watch them flirt with each other and make plans to see a movie this weekend.

James gets up from the table, announcing that he needs to go. We all agree that we’ve stayed way longer than any of us planned. We dump the remnants of lunch into the trash and walk outside. It is colder now that the sun has set. It is only five o’clock, but it is dark. And all of a sudden I miss my dad, because winter was his favorite season and he would love a night like this. No rain or snow, just pure cold and dark sky.

“See you tomorrow,” Chelsea says as she hugs me. She whispers in my ear, “Should I ask him to walk with me? Clear your throat for yes, don’t do anything if no.”

I let go of her and clear my throat. So she doesn’t have to ask, I say, “James, which way are you going?”

“Back to the C,” he says.

“Oh, so is Chels.”

Chelsea smiles. “I guess we can walk together,” she says.

The two of them leave, and Isaac says, “Walk, train, or bus?”

“Let’s walk,” I say. Because Dad would have walked.

We are silent for the first block, pressing through the crowds on 125th, but once we get to 127th and it’s quieter, Isaac says, “I didn’t mean to assume that you were still grieving. I just know it took me a while to get used to my mom not being here. When I didn’t see you or Chelsea, I figured you were having a hard day.”

“I appreciated you asking,” I say. “You’re right. It comes and goes, the sadness,” I tell him.

I am about to cross the street just when a car speeds through the red light. Isaac throws his arm out to keep me back on the curb. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Isaac takes my hand. I hold on to him and think about how I never want to let him go.