❝something like a normal girl❞

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Things moved fast for me after that night at the hospital.

It was almost a blur, just a blimp in time, my memories of those two days filled with running errands, sorting out my important documents, and preparing myself to leave the only home I had ever really known for most of my life. It was bittersweet. It made me wonder if this was how it felt being sent off to war, and in a way, I was entering a war of my own, recreating my life from scratch.

I felt like I had been sent out into the void, pushed out into the cold, and expected to pull myself up, and pave my own way. That kind of newfound freedom was scary. The illusion of freedom I thought I had couldn't compare to the kind that I had now. Granted, it wasn't complete and total freedom, but I didn't know how to feel about it.

But I knew that this is what Black wanted for me, and as terrifying as it was, I felt like I owed it to him and myself to figure it out as best as I could.

And that was almost two weeks ago.

I remember that day like it was yesterday - and even though it had only been two weeks, things in my "new" life were a striking contrast to my old one. It became really clear that this was the beginning of my new life. Yara in Queens was no longer. That part of my identity had been erased, wiped clean of everything that had happened to and around her, and the things I had seen were meant to be pushed far back into my head, indexed into memory banks that I wouldn't open again.

And in a matter of days, I had became ingrained into my cousin and uncle's lives.

"You hear back from the library yet, Emerald?"

I could hear Uncle Charles's voice echoing off the walls, along with his heavy footsteps as he wandered into the kitchen, his lips parting into a smile once he saw me. He wandered over to the table, quickly swiping a piece of bacon off my plate. The smell of smooth, and expensive cologne wafted off of him as he grabbed a plate of his own, taking what was left of breakfast onto the cream colored porcelain in his hand.

"No, not yet," I shook my head, turning my head back towards the windows, where cherry blossom petals carried by a gentle breeze flew by the house, signaling that Spring was in full effect. The pink petals decorated the yard and the short walkway up to the house. Traffic drove by occasionally, cars sometimes flying down the street in front of the house, while others gradually rolled to a stop at the light a few feet up. "Do you think I should call them?" I looked back at him, raising my eyebrows.

"You know, you could always work at the library at the church," he spoke in between bites of french toast and eggs, his eyes flickering between me and the food before him, "Sister Stephanie might even let you help out with Sunday school."

Charles was a pastor at one of the nearby churches in the area, and it was called Hope's Rays Baptist. Almost every Sunday, we went to church, dressed in our best, and sat right in the front with all the other eager people ready to hear the word of God. Sometimes throughout the week, he'd have us help out with bible study, or other events that the church was putting on, like fundraisers or food drives. The people there loved him, and couldn't get enough of him, which meant that with my arrival, all eyes were on me.

The people there were sweet, and I meant that loosely - I didn't want to call them what I really thought of them, but their sweetness definitely managed to somehow leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

It was funny, that was the one of the few things that seemed to remain constant in my transition from New York. The stares. Just like Black seemed to have an audience, or a cult following, Uncle Charles had his own version - and they all seemed to notice me out of the crowd.

It almost felt like I was a walking billboard. It didn't make it any better that when the first Sunday after my arrival rolled around, Charles decided that introducing me in the middle of his sermon was such a bright idea. Dozens of eyes were on me, silently judging me, analyzing my body language, along with hushed whispers to their neighbor about me. Thankfully, Adriana gave me a whole rundown on who's who, and who I should avoid at all costs.

"I don't think she likes me very much," I stood up, grabbing my empty plate. I headed over to the sink, rinsing off the crumbs and syrup droplets off my plate, leaving it at the bottom of the sink, right on top of another plate.

"She doesn't like anyone, don't take it to heart."

I looked over my shoulder at Adriana, who appeared from the laundry room, holding her empty laundry basket. With her neat braids pulled up into a bun, she skipped over to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Dressed in a green sweatshirt with beige colored shorts, she pushed her glasses up on her nose, resting her head against mine.

Charles turned around in his chair to face us, shaking his head, wiping his lips with a napkin. "Sister Stephanie does like y'all. She's just from a different generation."

Adriana sighed, blowing air from her nose. "Yeah, she thinks you're cute, Dad. You ever noticed how she's only nice to you and Mr. Thompson?"

He shrugged, scratching his chin, which was covered by neatly trimmed salt and pepper colored facial hair. "Nope." He shut Adriana's completely correct observation down, "Stephanie is just..Stephanie." He turned back to finish his breakfast, leaving the both of us staring at the back of his head.

"Maybe Sister Stephanie's wig is too tight," Adriana whispered in my ear, "It's cutting off blood flow to the nice part in her brain."

Adriana started giggling, and I tried to hold back my laughter, biting down on my lip.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, Daddy! We're going to my room now, bye!" Adriana grabbed my hand, leading me out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. We walked through the hallway, which was decorated with pictures of the two of them, and pictures of my uncle and his friends, a few paintings weaved within the hanging scrapbook around us. I could hear him holler about the job at the church library for me, and Adriana sucked her teeth, mumbling under her breath.

"He wants everybody to work at the damn church," she rolled her eyes as we walked up the stairs together, Adriana about a step behind me, "He tried to get me to work there when I was sixteen."

Adriana shut her door with her hip, the door gliding back into the doorframe gently. I got comfortable on her bed, my eyes drifting off to the episode of Maury loudly playing on the tv. I felt the bed dip, and I scooted over across her pink satin sheets, tying my hair up with the loose elastic laying amongst her pile of magazines, lip gloss, and nail polish. Her computer was on the bed near her, and she clicked away, sighing.

For the past few weeks, Adriana and I were attached at the hip. I didn't realize how much I missed her while I was in New York, and how nice it felt to actually have someone interested in hanging out with you. We stayed up for hours the first few days, watching old movies and catching up. We were always close when we were kids, and I was relieved to find out that that hadn't changed in almost ten years.

She asked me a lot of questions about New York, and how it was living there, and what I did for fun. And even though those questions weren't too hard to answer, her questions eventually got more personal, and I had to lie to her. Even though I wanted to tell her what was really going on, I couldn't drop that kind of bomb on her. I didn't think she could handle it, or even believe me.

She and Uncle Charles thought I was in town for school, and that my mom had arranged for me to stay with them while I checked out schools in the area and got a feel for the city. I don't know how Black managed to pull that one off, or how he even managed to find them. But then again, him and my mom had history, and I never thought to look them up.

"This sucks," Adriana sighed deeply, hiding her face in her hands, "I can't study anymore. My brain is full."

"You barely even studied," I looked at her out of the corner of my eyes, my legs swinging back and forth in the air. This episode of Maury was getting intense - a woman was claiming her boyfriend had cheated on her with almost a hundred women, and was maybe the father of ten kids - most of which were in the same city they lived in. Adriana lightly shoved me, and I shoved her back, glancing at her computer screen that proved my assumption right.

Staring back at me was a blank word document, aside from the phrase 'midterm notes' typed out in all caps. And when I looked back at Adriana, she was looking through one of the magazines on her bed, flipping through the pages and ripping out the free samples that lingered in between articles.

"You're such a Taurus, Emerald."

I looked back at the television, watching the couple argue in each others' faces, security having to come on stage and break them apart while Maury sat in his chair, unfazed and waiting for the commotion to die down, "What does that even mean?"

"You're down to earth, patient, dedicated. Here, look," Adriana flung the magazine in front of my eyes, holding it steady so I could gaze over the glossy, thin pages. It was an Ebony magazine, and on the page had every sign listed with colorful graphics. With her other hand, she pointed to the one with my section, letting me take it from her. I laid it down flat before me, slowly reading off the "qualities" she was so convinced I possessed.

"Taureans tend to be grounded and logical, and love routine and are committed to their own comfort," I read aloud, raising my eyebrows. Adriana was all ears, leaning over my shoulder to read it with me. I shrugged, sliding it back in her direction, "I guess."

She grinned, reading off the horoscope for her sign, "This is an excellent day for you, Leo, so live it up! Your ego is strong, and beautiful things are flowing your way in general." Snapping as if she was at a spoken word, she relished in the words printed onto the page, "I swear by this advice. It hasn't steered me wrong yet."

"It needs to steer you into studying," I teased, "I'm not staying up with you again tonight."

"Shut up!"

Adriana rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. We both sat in comfortable silence, me flipping through channels of daytime dramas, settling to watch an episode of Cheaters. Adriana hummed a song as she flipped through another magazine, taking a perfume sample and smelling it, pushing it towards me to smell to get my confirmation if I liked it or not.

Eventually, the both of us got tired of just doing nothing, and when Adriana suggested the mall, we both jumped at the chance to go. After two weeks, I had already ran out of enough outfits, and living out of a suitcase wasn't ideal for me. Sure, Adriana loaned me a couple of her clothes, and she didn't mind, but I was in desperate need of a closet revamp, seeing as I had left all of my clothes in Queens.

"Books? Sheesh, Emerald, who's reading books in 2010? You know we have magazines, right?"

Adriana and I walked through the long, winding pathways of the mall, our arms weighed down by several bags. Passing me back the pretzel we were sharing, she talked with a mouth full of its salty goodness, as we walked into another store. She asked me more questions about New York and the style there, telling me that she imagined New York was some sort of style capitol, where everybody walked the streets dressed to impress.

She loved fashion - something that became increasingly clear as she dragged me from store to store, somehow finding something she liked in every place. We had been in almost every store in the mall, and even though my energy was hitting an all time low, my feet hurting like I had been walking for miles, Adriana was still a ball of energy.

And when I said I needed help picking out clothes, she jumped for the opportunity to dress me up like her own personal Bratz doll. I had probably tried on at least twenty, maybe even thirty different outfits, and judging from how she was acting, I still had a long way to go.

Adriana had gone all out - we had been in about five stores already, helping me pick out outfits and styling me like I was her own personal Bratz doll. I didn't mind it, and besides, it wasn't like she was going to just take no for an answer.

"And what could I learn from that?" I followed behind her as she gazed through racks, my fingertips dancing across the wide variety of dresses and tops, not yet finding anything that I liked. Adriana looked over her shoulder at me, rolling her eyes, before continuing to browse through the next few racks, pushing aside hangers that dragged with a screech along the metal poles.

"Duh," she told me, locking eyes with me as I walked around the opposite side of her, coming into view. "I got two boyfriends from using those tips," she grinned, sticking up two fingers to emphasize, "Two!"

"And how's that going for you?" I tilted my head to the side, placing my fingers under my chin.

She waved me off, flicking her dark blue, manicured nails my way, "Well, they eventually found out about each other..but I still had two boyfriends. So there," She stuck out her tongue, walking past me as I laughed at her. I followed her, picking up a white, denim romper, with gold buttons.

"That's so cute," she peered over the rack, "You should get that."

With both of our arms filled with clothes, we headed towards the register. Adriana let me go ahead of her, getting distracted by a pair of earrings on display. I was going to wait for her, but the line behind me piled up, so I went ahead and paid. All I had right now was the money Black had given me before I left, and the new debit card he ordered for me was going to take a while to get here.

"Your total is three twenty-five, even."

The cashier gave me a weird look as I counted out the money, the green bills sliding from between my fingers. I gave her three thirty, since I didn't have any five dollar bills on me. I watched her count it out, before placing it in the register, and she swiped a marker across the three hundred dollars bills I had given her, while her free hand handed me my change and receipt.

Once Adriana was done, we made a beeline towards the food court, the measly pretzel we shared clearly not enough for either one of us.

"You ever had sushi before?" She asked me, digging through her Sephora bag for her new lip gloss. I watched her tear off the plastic protective wrapping, tossing it into a nearby trash can that we passed as we weaved in between crowds of people. We walked next to each other closely, avoiding the crowd by cutting through the tables, and I followed Adriana's quick footsteps as we walked towards the sushi stand, and got in line behind a couple.

"Mhm, you ever had a Dragon roll before?"

"That sounds so good. I usually just get the California roll. Maybe I'll try that instead."

The two of us decided to split up - Adriana telling me to order the food while she scoped out a decent table. I watched her walk away, walking towards a table at the far end of the food court, and when I turned my head back, it was my turn to order.

"Can I get two dragon rolls, and one California roll, please?"

The Asian women at the cash register nodding, asking if I wanted any drinks. I didn't know what to get Adriana, so I just stuck with something basic - water. Once she had rang me up and handed me my receipt, I moved off to the side, watching as our order was made before me. The man fulfilling orders was completely focused, his gloved hands spread out rice onto a bamboo mat, placing the fillings out one after the other, his hands moving quickly as he rolled each one tightly, yet neatly.

Before I even knew it, he was holding a bag over the counter towards me, sending me on my way with a soft smile.

I had lost sight of Adriana while I was ordering, and when I walked in the direction I saw her initially walk in, I still didn't see her, or her bags.

"Yara! Over here!"

Hearing her voice clearly against the sea of other conversations, I spun around, someone walking directly in front of me before I could even take another step. Adriana called my name, and I saw her at a table nestled in a less populated corner of the food court, her bags on the table next to her. She peeked at me around a tall, casually dressed guy, who looked at me over his shoulder as I walked over.

"Jordan, this is my cousin Yara. Yara, this is Jordan."

The subtle scent of weed lingered off of Jordan, only partially subdued by a cinnamon, spicy kind of cologne. I could almost see the weed cloud surrounding him, with the way his eyes hung low. His dark brown eyes were glossy, and the whites of his eyes were tinted a light shade of pink. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he smelled like a pound of weed, and if he did know, he didn't seem to care.

Adriana had told me about Jordan before, or at least I think she did. She had told me about so many people she wanted to introduce me to and I had met so many people over the last two weeks, they were all starting to blend together.

"Oh, so you're Yara?"

I nodded, Adriana draping her arm around my shoulder. She continued to talk, "Yeah, she's here for school."

"For real?" Jordan kept his answers short, his voice coming out clear, but like he was only half listening to what she was saying. He focused in on her face while she talked, but I could only wonder what was going on past his hazy eyes. Jordan adjusted his stance, adjusting the black, Metallica t-shirt he was wearing, unintentionally showing off the number nine and an upside down playboy symbol tattooed on his neck. The thin lines almost completely blended in with the richness of his brown skin.

"Mm," Jordan hummed, cutting Adriana's rambling short, "You still coming to the show?" He swept the short locs that framed his face back, the rest of them pulled into a ponytail behind his head.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"That's some sentimental ass shit you just said," He grinned, "I like that shit though."

The three of us split up since Jordan got a phone call, which Jordan wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't for Adriana telling him that his phone was ringing. The two of us watched him walk away, his footsteps wandering lazily into the crowd, and his figure disappearing almost instantly as the crowd seemed to swallow him up.

With Jordan gone, Adriana I sat down to eat, and I finally got to relieve my tired arms and feet. Just at first glance, we had what looked like fifteen bags between us. Shirts, shirts, shorts, and even a few pairs of shoes from Footlocker were among the pile of plastic surrounding us.

"So how long are you staying?" Adriana asked me, dipping a piece of her Dragon roll in soy sauce, which I cringed at. She grinned, "It's not that bad, stop making that face."

"It is that bad. You'll eat soy sauce but you hate the ginger," I emphasized, stealing the ginger off her plate. I layered a piece of ginger over my piece, attempting to pick it up with my chopsticks. When that didn't work, I just went for my fingers, seeing as the roll was already falling apart. "I don't know," I told her, giving her a truthful answer, "I looked up some schools but you'd know more about that stuff than me."

I could hear Black's command bouncing around in my head, once again scolding me when I tried to push back against being sent out here. I remember