“Nothing,” I said, but that was actually a lie. I suspected that her mother was a crackhead, because the moment she yanked her door open, I recognized her face: Rochelle was in the crowd that gathered to watch the demolition that day. Instead of looking up at her childhood building and fussing like everybody else, she was two-stepping and scratching, and every once in a while, she whispered something to a gangbanger. She moved around the crowd doing this, and though the gangbangers acknowledged her, they all seemed to brush her off, irritated. It was like she wasn’t even in the crowd for the same reasons we were. She was on another mission.

Mama continued her interrogation all the way home. “Does she have brothers and sisters?” I hunched my shoulders. Mama just looked at me for a few seconds, then asked, “Something wrong with your mouth?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Barely said anything.”

“She used to live in 4946,” I told her, happy to come up with something.

“So they were relocated.” She nodded, going off on her own thoughts. The minute we got in the house, Mama said, “She needs to comb her hair and get some clothes that fit. She always look like that?”

“Yes,” I told her.

“Ask her if she likes your braids. Tell her to ask her mother if I can do her hair on Sunday.”

“Okay,” I said. She walked to her room, and I watched her until she was gone.

My mama took parenting seriously. It was her full-time job. Her mother instilled this in her and encouraged her to stay home and raise her children because you couldn’t trust other people with your babies. Mama would spend her days prepping our meals, cleaning the house, and even popping in on us at school. I don’t remember her going off to work until much later in life; I was in high school when she started working at a hotel, cleaning rooms while taking classes at a community college. I couldn’t imagine how miserable Tonya’s life had to be with Rochelle for a mother. I’d find out, though.

In bed that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rochelle. I wondered what it was like to have a crackhead for a mother, and then eventually my thoughts drifted over to Stacia. I hoped she would warm up to Tonya. That’s when I first asked myself, Did I make a mistake bringing this girl around? Will she be worth all the trouble?

I drifted off to sleep with visions of Rochelle bopping in that crowd to music that no one else could hear, scratching her face while her old building fell to pieces.

Five
Summer School