Watch Us Rise(60)

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day, and I’m spending it at Word Up with Chelsea for our weekly Write Like a Girl meet up. We have about eight girls who come consistently, but on some nights we have more. Leidy has decorated the store with quotes about love. Some hang from the ceiling, and there are a few taped in the window. She has set up a long folding table for us to sit around. There’s something about having us all face-to-face, in one room and not just talking on social media that makes Write Like a Girl feel even more important. So many of us have stories to tell about sexual harassment and getting catcalled on the way to school. Girls have talked about teachers making sexist comments in math and science, and how some of our parents just don’t seem to understand where we’re coming from.

The best thing about our in-person meet ups is that it’s inspired girls to start clubs at their own schools. Three girls from the Incarnation School and two from George Washington have started Friday Lunch-Ins at their schools, and they have conversations over lunch about all the issues that have been on our minds.

Chelsea and I rush to get everything set up before everyone gets here. She sets down a tub of markers while I spread out scrapbooking paper, picking out colors that I think will work well for our activity.

Leidy sees all the art supplies and says, “Wow, you all have really turned this bookstore into an art studio. What do you have planned for tonight?”

I tell Leidy our plan. “We’re making Alternative Valentine’s Day Lists.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like this.” I hand her my example.

Leidy reads it out loud, “Not Your Typical Love Poems: An Alternative Valentine’s Day Reading List.” She hands the cardstock back to me. “You two are full of good ideas.”

“Isaac and Nadine helped too,” I say. I explain the process for the making of the lists, telling her, “We’re going to ask the group to come up with reading lists, music playlists, and movies.”

Chelsea says, “We’ll make them tonight and give them out tomorrow instead of handing out Valentine’s Day cards. Not that there’s anything wrong with celebrating Valentine’s Day.” She looks at me when she says this, because she’s obsessed with Isaac and me and has a bet with Nadine to see if Isaac is going to make some kind of big gesture on Valentine’s Day. Chelsea thinks he’s going to go all out and profess his love for me. Nadine thinks he’ll be more subtle but will definitely make it clear that he wants to date me.

Leidy walks to her supply closet and comes back holding a bowl of chocolates. “It’s not too cliché to offer these tonight, is it?” She sets the bowl down.

Chelsea says, “Leidy, chocolate is never, ever cliché.” She takes a piece of candy out of the bowl and unwraps it.

Once everyone arrives we get to making our Alternative Valentine’s Day Lists. Nadine hooks her phone up to Leidy’s speakers, and for the next two hours we create, decorating each one in our styles so they are one of a kind, like Valentines. Every now and then we have to look at a book to get a title just right or look up who actually sings a particular song. Leidy lets us photocopy our lists so each school represented here has plenty to give out tomorrow.

At the end of our time together, Chelsea says, “Don’t forget to take pictures if you hang these up.”

“And ask people to hold them up and take a picture of them,” I say.

Chelsea finishes, “Don’t forget to use our hashtag, #WriteLikeAGirl.”

Chelsea walks me to the train station, which means she wants to talk about something. We’re just blocks from her house, so walking with me takes her way out of her way to get home. “You okay?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

I don’t answer her, just give her time to tell me what she needs to tell me.

“I kind of feel like a hypocrite,” Chelsea says.

We walk against the wind. It pushes us forward, rumbles in my ears.

“Here I am leading a whole group of girls in an alternative V-Day activity when really, I keep wanting to check my phone to see if James has sent a text. I don’t even want a gift from him or anything. I really don’t. But, I mean, well, I kind of want him to . . . I want him to say something to me.” The wind blows stronger, and Chelsea pulls her hood tighter. “This sucks. I suck.”

“You do not! You just, you like him.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t, right?”

“I don’t think it’s about if you should or shouldn’t like him. The only thing I think is that you should love yourself more than you like him,” I tell her. “Love yourself enough to walk away from him if he doesn’t treat you with respect. And him flirting with you while having a girlfriend is—”

“Disrespectful. To her and to me.”

“He just needs to make up his mind,” I say.

“And I need to make up mine.”

We get to the entrance of the subway and stand to the side so we’re not in the way. Chelsea says, “I’ve got some serious thinking to do.”

I hug her, head underground. Just as I reach the last step, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Isaac: want to hang out after school tomorrow?

Me: sure

I think about Chelsea and Nadine, wonder which one of them is right.