“Uh.” I don’t think that’s one of the questions, is it? “My mom picked it out, I guess.”
He scans the paper once more, and I take a few seconds to examine him. Rose was right. He’s a giant. His legs barely fit under the desk. Wide jaw. Freckles. But she got one thing wrong—his eyes. They’re not green.
I realize I’m just staring like a creep or something when he clears his throat. “So, Sia. Where are you from?”
“That’s not one of the questions.”
“This is what I’m thinking, though.” He straightens his back. “This is a getting-to-know-you exercise. But we’ve just met. So, why don’t we go over the basics first?”
I glance at the clock. “Fine. I’m from here. This tiny, old town. No siblings. I live with my dad. The end.”
The corners of his mouth quirk up a bit, which makes me scowl. Why is he so happy? “Well, I’m from Azules. And I also live with my dad.” His mouth takes a firm, straight line and I can tell he hates his father.
“Azules, that’s right next to the Sonoran, isn’t it?” I can’t help but ask it.
“Yeah, how’d you know? You ever been?”
“No reason,” I say quickly. “Let’s just start with the questions.”
Over the next thirty minutes, I discover the weirdest thing Noah DuPont has ever eaten is raw tofu, he’s been out of the country once, to Vancouver, and he could have grilled cheese for every meal forever.
“What’s your forever meal?” he asks after I finish penciling in his response.
“Whatever Rose’s mom is cooking.”
“Who’s Rose?”
I point her out. “The tall girl. Looks like a runway model. She’s my best friend.”
“What sort of cooking does her mom do?”
I shrug. “Haitian food.”
“Really. I’ve never had. So it’s good, huh?”
“Noah,” I say. “You’re doing it again.”
He puts his hands up. “Right, right. Small talk makes you want to light yourself on fire on your way out the window.”
“We have one last question and only five minutes of class left. So let’s make it snappy.” I glance down. “What plant are you descended from?”
He pauses. “Okay, so you know ‘your spot’ off the highway?” He makes quotations with his hands. “Well, there are two cactuses there. One looks like a man and one looks like a woman. It’s really creepy, actually, but that’s the first thing I thought of.”
God, this is weird. “So, the saguaro.” I keep my voice neutral.
“Yeah, I guess. What about you?”
“Corn,” I say quickly.
“Really? Why corn?”
The bells chime and I shake my head. “See you later,” I say.
“It was nice meeting you, Sia,” he calls, but his voice is drowned out by the class as I make my way to Rose. When I look back at him, he’s still watching me, a smile on his face, and I can feel my neck and cheeks heating up as I jerk my gaze away. God, why do I get so weird and hostile like this with boys? Well, actually, I know exactly why.
So I make a point to remind myself as I walk to my next class.
Noah isn’t Justin. Noah isn’t Justin.
20
MY GRANDMOTHER SAID THAT IN the beginning, there was nothing but the wide black nothing of space. She said this big nothing was a woman, and the woman longed to be touched. So this woman’s belly grew big with longing, and soon she pushed out a baby. And when the baby ate from her breast, the milk that flowed became the whole universe.
Abuela said when she birthed all her babies, as they first latched to her chest, she could feel the prickly magic of that beginning. She could feel her own experience of touch continue the viento of creation.
So the universe came from milk and touch. I’m not sure I buy that, but it makes more sense to me than an old white man in the sky.
21
“WELL?” ROSE ASKS OVER MILKSHAKES.
“He’s nice,” I say. “And way too energetic. It’s annoying.”
Rose smiles and raises an eyebrow. “I heard some of your tone, Sia. It’s a wonder he wasn’t the one running away from you as the bell rang.”
I groan and put my face in my hands. “Ugh. I know. I was rude to him. But I don’t know how to act around guys anymore, you know?”
“Sure you do. You act fine around Manuel and Carter and—”
“You know what I mean.”
“Uh, no, no I don’t.”
I shrug. “Flirts.”
“He was flirting?!” Rose squeals but stops when she sees my face. “You still get freaked out, huh? Since… you know…”
“Yes, since Justin.” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“So that means you didn’t get Noah’s number, then, huh?”
I scoff. “No way. We just exchanged emails. For class.”
“I know, Sia. I’m kidding.” She smiles. “So, I have some news.”
“Oh?” I lick some of the whipped cream off my straw.
“I’m going to be spending the night at your place on Saturday.”
“Cool.”
She stares at me, waiting.
I give her a look. “What?”
“Aren’t you going to ask why?”
“I mean, you stay over, like, once a month, right? It’s not uncommon.”
“We’re going to Samara’s spring break party.”
“Uh, no, we’re not.”
“Sia! I’ve sewn a new wrap dress and everything!”
“I hate parties. And remember.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Jeremy McButtFace’ll be there.”
“And therein lies the kicker. I just talked with Samara, and McButtFace is going to be somewhere south this weekend. He’s testifying in court or something.”
“Why?” I ask. “Is he finally on trial for being a disgusting nematode?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Because we are going to that party.”
I groan into my glass of mint chocolate foam. “Spring break isn’t here yet.”
“She’s doing it early this year because that’s when her mom will be out of town. So we are going and that is that, my friend.” Rose winks triumphantly.
“Well, Dad just informed me we have practice on Saturday, too. So you should come over in the morning so we can make something super protein-y for breakfast.”
Rose puts her hand on her head. “Oh, sweet Jesus. A new dress, a party, and close proximity to your dad. This literally just turned into the best weekend ever.”
“Ew,” I say, throwing a straw at her. “Stop that.”
She tosses her curls to the side and smiles some more.
“Stop!” I say.
“What?”
“I know you’re thinking something obscene about my dad.”
“Sia, you know that’s just about always true.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Sia, before I forget, I have to postpone trig tutoring this week. Samara and I have a ton to do on nebulas.”