In a city of sheep ruled by wolves, she became the python that pulled them apart.
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Sage Black is a girl of little opportunities, forced to see the seamy side of life growing up in New York. Witnessing what lengths billionaires will go through t...
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"Let's go on an escapade."
I am about to shut my locker closed, having packed the books I need for tonight when Zain's words make me falter. It's the end of the day and the hallways are crowded with students chattering loudly as they make their way around. She leans on the locker adjacent to mine with crossed arms, staring at me expectantly, her eyes wide and dancing.
"A what?"
"An escapade!" She pauses to tuck a curl behind her ear. "My brother and his friends would go on crazy adventures all around the city and only come back when it was like eight A.M. in the morning. He'd tell me all these wild stories about the things that'd happen on these adventures."
I close my locker. "And you want us to skip school and, what, go on an—"
I look to her for the word to which she replies, "An escapade."
"An escapade," I finish. The idea is not too bad. I've only skipped school one other time when Theo took me to his house, and the thrill of whatever unknown quest awaiting us makes me smile.
But the excitement dims when I recall the night at Marli's. I promised her one of our little subway rendezvous that we haven't had in a while, and my breaking that promise will only prove her assumption of me changing right.
Zain notes the rejection on my face before I speak. "We don't have to skip school; we can just go on a school night. Don't shut the idea down so soon. It'll be—"
"It's not that." I shake my head, explaining to her my excuse.
"Then just bring Marli!" she replies simply when I'm done, her smile never wavering. Zain has a fix for everything.
I'm quick to open my mouth, ready to explain, yet again, why that won't work but find myself at a loss for words. There's no reasonable, logical argument that I can give her, except for the feeble one in my mind that she can never hear.
I don't know why showing Marli this part of my life makes me queasy. Marli and I are the low side of Harlem, the cheap fries in a subway at night, the converse pair I've been wearing everyday since freshman year. Marli is better than all of them, and I would still take her over anyone in this school, but they would never understand her or us. It shamefully angers me.
Marli is not the problem; I am.
"Come on," Zain pushes, eyeing the red gem peaking through my collared shirt. "I'd love to meet her. You don't have an excuse anymore. And it'll be so much fun."
I sigh dejectedly, thinking of how I'll bring this up to Marli. "Fine. I'll talk to her."
"Great!" She bounces a little, excited. "Come on, our seats are waiting for us."
Outside, the air thrums with adrenaline and excitement, starting from the stands that we begin to climb to the middle of the field where players are warming up. It smells distinctly of salty popcorn and hot pretzels. The seats are quickly being filled with what seems like every student that attends our school, patterned with our school colors: navy blue and yellow. On the other side of the field are our opponents for the day, their school colors of red and white filling the stands.
