the tagging. Though I’ve practiced our tag on paper, I’ve never painted it on the side of a building.
“You’re the only one who can get up there and do it,” Nick says.
I check out the old wall, with bricks jutting out here and there. Lots of cracks to place gear. It would be a breeze.
“I don’t know,” I say uneasily. I don’t want to! I’m thinking.
“We have to tell them,” Dave says furiously. “We have to tell them that they should go the hell back to where they came from.”
“Chill for a minute,” Nick says to him and turns to me. “Jesse?”
He stares at me seriously, ignoring Hailey and Dave, who are grumbling and throwing what-the-hell? looks at me. Nick shakes his head a little to clear the hair from his eyes. “Look,I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to. Just think about it, okay?”
Before I can answer, a girl comes out of the Peace Center with a handful of blue fliers. She’s wearing jeans and boots, and a green head scarf tucked into her thick jacket.
The girl stops at a car with a “Just Dua It” bumper sticker and grabs a staple gun out of the trunk.
“Come on,” Nick says, and we trail after the girl as she starts up the street, putting up the blue fliers with a brisk thump-thump of the staple gun as she goes.
The girl in the scarf meets up with Jade and Hal, and they continue along the street, laughing and talking as they continue putting up the blue fliers.
“What the hell?” Dave yells at them as we get closer. His face is red, and he’s breathing hard. For a moment, he reminds me of my dad. It’s not the first time. When he gets going about the “freaking A-rabs” that cost his brother his leg, I keep my mouth shut. I know from experience the slightest word will set him off even more. Nick thinks it’s funny, and will egg him on into a frothing frenzy, but it scares me.
The girl in the scarf looks at Dave, and then her gaze travels to the rest of us, and I realize that I’m carrying some of the blue fliers that Nick crumpled up and handed to me at school. I want to shrink back against Nick, but he steps up so he’s standing next to Dave.
“No one wants you here!” Dave spits.
“Dave Tucker,” Jade says severely. “We most certainly want Sabeen here. You, on the other hand, can go take a flying leap.”
Jade, tall and redheaded in a gypsy skirt, jangles the bangles on her wrists angrily.
“It’s okay, Jade.” Sabeen, the girl in the scarf, looks at us. “What do you want to say to me?” she asks Dave directly. She is pretty, with dark eyeliner accenting her flashing eyes, and tiny diamond studs glimmering in her ears. A few people have gathered around, attracted by the confrontation.
“Go back !” Dave shouts. “If you don’t like it here, go the hell back to your own country! ”
“I’m an American,” she says evenly. “I was born here, just like you.” I can’t help but admire her composure, but her words seem to set Dave off even more.
“ You are not like me. You will never be like me.”
People begin murmuring in disapproval. Someone pushes through the crowd, and I feel sick when I see it’s Adam. He’s out of breath, his hair damp with sweat and curling crazily over his forehead, and the dimple is nowhere to be seen.
“Everything all right?” he asks, and his tone is neutral, but his blue eyes are not as he stares at Dave and Nick.
“No problem, man,” Nick says between his teeth, his breath hissing out.
“I didn’t think so.” Adam’s gaze lands on me, cool and appraising. I duck my head, flushing.
A group of college kids come by, and in the roiling crowd of people, Sabeen cries out. Her scarf lies in a puddle on theground, the beautiful green silk slowly turning dark as the muddy water bleeds into it.
Adam is yelling something at Dave and Nick, while people mill around in confusion. I quickly stoop and pick up Sabeen’s scarf. I hand it to her, avoiding her eyes as my heart crumples.
Nick
“You’re the only one who can get up there and do it,” Nick says.
I check out the old wall, with bricks jutting out here and there. Lots of cracks to place gear. It would be a breeze.
“I don’t know,” I say uneasily. I don’t want to! I’m thinking.
“We have to tell them,” Dave says furiously. “We have to tell them that they should go the hell back to where they came from.”
“Chill for a minute,” Nick says to him and turns to me. “Jesse?”
He stares at me seriously, ignoring Hailey and Dave, who are grumbling and throwing what-the-hell? looks at me. Nick shakes his head a little to clear the hair from his eyes. “Look,I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to. Just think about it, okay?”
Before I can answer, a girl comes out of the Peace Center with a handful of blue fliers. She’s wearing jeans and boots, and a green head scarf tucked into her thick jacket.
The girl stops at a car with a “Just Dua It” bumper sticker and grabs a staple gun out of the trunk.
“Come on,” Nick says, and we trail after the girl as she starts up the street, putting up the blue fliers with a brisk thump-thump of the staple gun as she goes.
The girl in the scarf meets up with Jade and Hal, and they continue along the street, laughing and talking as they continue putting up the blue fliers.
“What the hell?” Dave yells at them as we get closer. His face is red, and he’s breathing hard. For a moment, he reminds me of my dad. It’s not the first time. When he gets going about the “freaking A-rabs” that cost his brother his leg, I keep my mouth shut. I know from experience the slightest word will set him off even more. Nick thinks it’s funny, and will egg him on into a frothing frenzy, but it scares me.
The girl in the scarf looks at Dave, and then her gaze travels to the rest of us, and I realize that I’m carrying some of the blue fliers that Nick crumpled up and handed to me at school. I want to shrink back against Nick, but he steps up so he’s standing next to Dave.
“No one wants you here!” Dave spits.
“Dave Tucker,” Jade says severely. “We most certainly want Sabeen here. You, on the other hand, can go take a flying leap.”
Jade, tall and redheaded in a gypsy skirt, jangles the bangles on her wrists angrily.
“It’s okay, Jade.” Sabeen, the girl in the scarf, looks at us. “What do you want to say to me?” she asks Dave directly. She is pretty, with dark eyeliner accenting her flashing eyes, and tiny diamond studs glimmering in her ears. A few people have gathered around, attracted by the confrontation.
“Go back !” Dave shouts. “If you don’t like it here, go the hell back to your own country! ”
“I’m an American,” she says evenly. “I was born here, just like you.” I can’t help but admire her composure, but her words seem to set Dave off even more.
“ You are not like me. You will never be like me.”
People begin murmuring in disapproval. Someone pushes through the crowd, and I feel sick when I see it’s Adam. He’s out of breath, his hair damp with sweat and curling crazily over his forehead, and the dimple is nowhere to be seen.
“Everything all right?” he asks, and his tone is neutral, but his blue eyes are not as he stares at Dave and Nick.
“No problem, man,” Nick says between his teeth, his breath hissing out.
“I didn’t think so.” Adam’s gaze lands on me, cool and appraising. I duck my head, flushing.
A group of college kids come by, and in the roiling crowd of people, Sabeen cries out. Her scarf lies in a puddle on theground, the beautiful green silk slowly turning dark as the muddy water bleeds into it.
Adam is yelling something at Dave and Nick, while people mill around in confusion. I quickly stoop and pick up Sabeen’s scarf. I hand it to her, avoiding her eyes as my heart crumples.
Nick
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