emotions, jack gilinsky

38

jack gilinsky

"amara's a beautiful name."

she blushes at her compliment, "thank you. i think jennifer's a beautiful name, too."

"a bit boring." my grandma shrugs, "thank you, though."

the three of us continued to eat our food, while my grandma and i watched amara ignore the multiple rings to her phone.

after about the fifth one, she takes it out. "..i should probably put this on silent, sorry."

"so, amara, you tutor jack?"

she nods politely, her eyes flickering to mine before back at my grandma. "yeah, i do."

i could sense nervousness in her demeanor. she'd told me several times that it was easy for her to read me. but she didn't know that she was just as easy.

"were you born here?"

amara shakes her head, "no, i was born in san francisco, but we moved to detroit when i was five."

"how come?"

i look at her curiously, as well. "my dad's originally from here, but they decided to settle in california. there was a lot of family drama between my parents and my grandparents, so i guess they decided it would be better if we lived here."

"are you an only child?"

she shakes her head, "i have an older brother, sadly. what about you?"

"i had an older sister." my grandma answers, and i could tell amara regretted the question when her eyes widened. "she passed away five years ago."

"i'm sorry." she apologizes immediately, "..to bring that up."

"it's fine!" she smiles, and catches the both of us by surprise when she grabs onto amara's hand. "back to happier things..what are your plans for the future?"

"i think..i want to be a teacher."

"what grade?" i ask.

"i don't know.." she trails off. "somewhere in elementary, though. maybe third grade."

"that's great." my grandma replies, "i used to be a teacher, too. ninth grade."

amara smiles, "how was it?"

"fun, for the most part. but teaching high school kids can get bad at times."

they continued to hit off, and i found myself staring at amara the whole time.

i wasn't blind, i saw the beauty in her that i knew she didn't. she buries her insecurities while helping other people embrace their own, and i always wonder how she does that.

i look away from her when i hear my grandma's chair push back, and she stands. "i'm gonna throw the trash away, you two stay here."

none of us listen, though. we both stand to help her collect the garbage, and she shakes her head at us.

"uh, hey jack, do you have a phone charger?" amara asks, emerging from the living room while i place the dishes in the sink, turning the faucet on.