“I can’t find mine. It’s gotta be in here,” Callum said, opening my closet door.
“Out! Get out. You shouldn’t have been in my room in the first place. Go bother Riley. I’m not in the mood.” I pointed to the door.
“Whatever, butthead.” Callum let go of the closet door handle and followed his twin out of my room.
Butthead? What is he, seven?I grabbed my iPod and headphones that had fallen on the floor when I jumped up and grabbed Niall’s leg.
And yes, those were my siblings’ names. My mother decided to give them all Irish names. Creative, right? My mom named my sister Riley, then my brothers Callum and Niall since my dad wouldn’t let her name me—his first child was a son, and he wanted to name his firstborn son. My mom relied on her Irish ancestry to name them, though she wasn’t connected to her heritage. I didn’t mind my sister, though. The twins were the youngest so she and I always got along pretty well, being the older siblings. As for my name, what’s funny is that my dad decided to give me a French name—something completely removed from his Middle Eastern heritage. I mean, how did a proud Lebanese, chain-smoking immigrant named Yousef not give any of his children Arabic names?
Later, I decided to take my dog Frankie out for a walk to blow off some steam before hanging out with Dana.
I couldn’t get Thad out of my mind. This had never happened to me. People didn’t come up out of nowhere trying to be my friend. Especially a guy. I didn’t have guy friends. Guys weren’t interested in being familiar with me. I only ever appealed to girls, but not in that way. Girls liked to talk to me. They would tell me all about their boyfriends and their secrets, which I think is why most guys left me alone. I guess I was lucky. Maybe they were afraid I knew too much about them.
Wait.I stopped at the end of my block, looking at the tall, bricked post that marked the crosswalk. Frankie’s long sausage body stretched out on the patch of grass at the corner of the sidewalk. He needed to sit for a second to rest while we waited for traffic to clear. “Is this just an advance for Thad? Is he trying to get close to me, to get closer to a girl I know?” I asked myself, out loud this time.
Yes. If you want to know, I talk to myself quite often. Not just thinking, I actually talk to myself when I’m not around people who can hear. It helps me concentrate on what I’m thinking so everything isn’t jumbled in my head. You’re starting to get a glimpse inside of it. You understand, right?
“Am I overthinking this? Maybe he’s a nice person who wants to be friends with me. Yeah, probably not.” I sighed, looking to the main road as the traffic cleared. I nudged my long-bodied dog, and we crossed the main road to walk down another block.
Oh god. What will Dana think of this?
3
DANA
Ireturned from my walk with Frankie before nine o’clock. My family had already eaten dinner. My twin brothers were thankfully in bed since the elementary schools didn’t go on summer break for another week. Riley was probably in her room texting her boyfriend. And my mom was watching TV with her mom in the rear living room.
“Hey Tony. Where were you? You missed dinner,” my mom yelled as she heard me searching the fridge for some leftovers.
“Ma! My name is Étienne.”
“Brenda. His name is not Tony,” my grandma added, sticking up for me as she usually does.
I closed the fridge door for a second to look down at the ugly brown, orange, and tan linoleum floor. Memories of my mom calling me anything other than Étienne floating around like video snippets.
Tony—the name my mother wanted to give me, and my father forbade. She picked out the names before she even met my dad. She always tried to use Tony as my nickname throughout the years, but he usually stopped her. After he was gone, she tried to use it less, but it slipped out here and there.
“Ugh. Okay, Étienne. Where were you? You missed dinner,” she shouted again. I heard the jingling of Frankie’s tags as he ran toward her. “Oh, and I made extra salad,” she added.
“Thanks, Ma. I went for a walk with Frankie. Needed to clear my head,” I yelled, carefully pulling the Pyrex salad bowl out of the fridge as I lifted the container of baked Kibbeh on top of it, almost wishing I hadn’t recently become vegetarian.
The salad was delicious, though. My mom made this Mediterranean salad made up of cucumbers, tomatoes, kalamata olives, and a simple lemon and garlic vinaigrette. The garlicy and lemony smell of the dressing usually made me salivate when she put everything together. I know how to make it as well, but nothing is ever as good as your mom’s food. No matter who you are.
My phone dinged as I inhaled the salad.Hey. On my way.It was Dana, my best friend.
Shit, I thought, trying to satisfy my hunger fast enough to give me enough time to change my clothes.
Alrighty, I replied, bolting to the bathroom to brush my teeth. And before I had the chance to check my hair in the mirror, there was a thump at the back door. I threw on some jeans and glanced in the mirror one more time to make sure I looked somewhat presentable.
“Dana’s here,” Niall yelled as I heard both of the twins’ footsteps approaching.
Ugh. I thought they were in bed.
“Ooh, trying to look fancy huh? You like Dana, don’t you?” Callum winked, tilting his head to the side.
“Get out of here. Aren’t you both supposed to be in bed?” I shoved them out of the doorway.
“Étienne’s got a girlfriend. Étienne’s got a girlfriend,” they said in unison, running to their shared bedroom.