Home > Grown(8)

Grown(8)
Author: Tiffany D. Jackson

Pearl and Phoenix groan together the way only twins can before they start clearing the table.

“Daddy, I need more juice,” Destiny says, waving her empty cup at him.

With Mom working late and Daddy having a rare Friday off, I’m sure he’s not used to hearing his name so much. He rubs his head.

“Lawd,” he grumbles. “Shea, can you pour your sister some juice, please?”

Shea nods, busy FaceTiming with a friend from school, gossiping about some boy.

“Is this what y’all do in high school now? FaceTime with each other even though you see each other all day?” He chuckles, clicking on the clippers. “Don’t remember you ever doing that.”

I stare at him in the mirror, his eyes focused as he lines me up.

“Daddy,” I say with a measured voice. “Can I have a car? Please?”

Daddy’s head snaps up, returning my stare.

“I’ve done the research,” I continue before he can fix his mouth to say no. “We can lease a car for two hundred and twenty-eight dollars a month. I’ll be able to help with the Littles. Take Shea and me to school.”

Daddy sighs and shuts off the clippers. The walls of the bathroom shrink.

“It’s just not something we can swing right now. With tuition, Will and Willow dues, summer camp next year . . . we’re stretched thin. Plus, the union might be striking soon. Which would mean . . . a lot of changes around here.”

I’ve heard Mommy and Daddy talk about it. A union strike would mean no pay, and strikes can go on for months, maybe years. Shea and I would have to drop out of Parkwood. Worst case, we could lose the house.

“But I wanna get a job.”

Daddy’s lips press together. “You have your entire life to work. For now, we just want you to be a normal teenager.”

There’s nothing normal about being trapped in the house, taking care of kids you didn’t birth.

“OK . . . well then, can you help me pay for singing lessons?”

His shoulders sag. “That’d be another activity and we really need you here to watch the Littles.”

“But you heard what Korey Fields said. I have real potential. Singing lessons can help me find my voice. This could be my shot!”

“Baby, we talked about this. Singing is . . . a big risk. Doesn’t work out for everybody. There’s thousands of singers out there, and only the lucky ones really make it.”

I look down at my hair scattered on the floor.

Daddy wipes his mouth, fidgets with his tools, then uses a brush to dust the stray hairs off my shoulders.

“So, what’s up next for the Disney club?” he says, hope in his voice. “What are you guys watching tonight?”

I rip the smock off me.

“The Little Mermaid,” I mutter, tossing it in the tub.

Ariel’s father didn’t let her do anything either.

 

 

Chapter 12


A Whole New World

 


“All right, guys, we ready?”

“Yeah!” the room cheers.

It’s been two weeks since the concert, and I’ve followed Korey Fields’s every move on Instagram. He’s had back-to-back appearances. Between his video recaps, Insta-stories, and thirst-trap photos of his bare chest, I spent every evening in bed scrolling, ogling, and analyzing each post like a private eye.

But tonight, I needed to send Korey to the back of my thoughts and focus on our weekly tradition—Disney club.

After a dinner of fish sticks and broccoli, I make popcorn and fresh limeade as Shea sets up pillows in the living room.

“Tonight, Littles, we introduce you to Aladdin!”

“It’s stupid. How did she not recognize him?” Shea asks, plopping into her seat, pulling Destiny onto her lap. “It’s not like he got a nose job or something.”

“Who recognize who?” Phoenix asks, snuggling into the rocking chair.

“Hey! Stop ruining it for the rest of them! This is an important rite of passage. Genie is up there with Sebastian as far as sidekicks go. OK, any questions?”

Pearl shoots her hand up. “Can you make fish tacos tomorrow?”

“As long as you eat a salad with it.”

The twins gag, Shea rolls her eyes. They all complain but I don’t care. It’s my job to take care of them, just like Grandma would.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, my phone vibrates. I expect it to be Mom or Daddy telling us they’ll be home late as usual. Instead, it’s a message from someone named Pips.

WYD

Pips? Who the hell is Pips and what . . .

I drop the phone with a gasp.

Shea turns. “What’s up?”

The truth lodges in my throat and I swallow it back.

“Um . . . nothing.”

Shea raises an eyebrow then returns to the movie.

Korey Fields is in my phone. He is in MY phone. He’s texting me. What do I say? Should I play it cool? No, I’ll never pull it off. So maybe . . . the truth.

Watching Aladdin with the Littles.

Which one? Remake or the original?

Original.

Of course. You’re a classic type of girl.

“Who are you texting?” Shea asks.

“Um, Mackenzie. Mind your business and watch the movie.”

Ever seen it?

Of course. It’s one of my Disney favorites.

It’s like he said the magic word.

Well, that’s actually what we’re doing. Every Friday, we watch one Disney movie, introducing the babies to the classics.

Dope! What’s on the list so far?

Snow White

Sleeping Beauty

Cinderella

Alice in Wonderland

Peter Pan

The Jungle Book

The Little Mermaid

Aladdin

Beauty and the Beast

The Lion King

The Princess and the Frog

What about Pocahontas?

No way am I exposing them to that colonizer version of what actually happened!

LMAO! Damn Ma! What about Mary Poppins?

Sticking to cartoons for now.

What? What about The Mighty Ducks? Classic!!

That’s a Disney movie?

Girl, you kidding? You ever been to Disneyland?

Nah, too expensive for all us to go. Always wanted to tho!

They got this part that shows how they made all their movies. You see Swiss Family Robinson?

No but maybe we can watch that one together someday.

There’s an air bubble, like he’s thumbing a response then stopped midthought.

Silence.

“Shit.” I gasp, heart plunging into my stomach.

The Littles yelp. “Oooo! Bad word!”

“Sorry, guys.”

Shea arches an eyebrow. “You OK?”

“Uh . . . yeah. Forgot I have practice in the morning.”

Shea doesn’t buy it but doesn’t push. She grabs the remote out my lap, and rewinds a few beats. Genie is singing, “You ain’t never had a friend like me.”

I try to ease back into the movie, but I can’t focus. Did I say too much? Come off too strong? Too strong? He’s Korey Fields, dummy! He’s not into you! Get that through your head.

After the movie, I change the Littles for bed, sing them a song, and shower. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my phone vibrates with a text.

Maybe

Burying myself under blankets, I let out a gleeful shriek, eyes glued to the message.

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