In My Shoes by Adrian Stephens Page A

mother was standing there, watching
us.
    “Mo…uh…Mrs. Evans I am guessing?” I tied off
his...well, my hair and got up to shake her hand.
    “Yes…and you are?” Over the 17 years I’ve
been alive, I’ve learned my mother’s tone inflections pretty well.
It was pretty apparent she didn’t know what to make of seeing some
boy braiding her daughter’s hair in her bedroom. She wasn’t angry,
but she wasn’t pleasantly surprised by what she saw.
    “My name is Jake,” I told her. “Your daughter
and I have a few classes together. We thought we would study
together today.”
    “Oh,” she said, taking just a little edge off
of her voice, “you are Jake. It’s nice to meet you.” She looked
over at Jake, in my body, with a look he probably didn’t
understand. I knew it to mean that she was surprised to see the
events over the last few days had led us to here.
    “Nice to meet you, too,” I said.
    “So, I’m curious…why is it that you are
braiding my daughter’s hair?”
    “We were just taking a break,” Jake chimed
in. “Jake was telling me he just learned how to French braid hair,
and I didn’t believe him.”
    I looked over at Jake with a look that I hope
said, “leave the explanations to me.”
    “Hmmm,” my mother responded, “and where did
you learn to braid so well, Jake?” Her question was not completely
sincere. She was…perplexed, I would guess, with the situation.
    I thought for a second. Where on Earth would
Jake have learned to braid hair? “I was watching a friend braid
another girl’s hair at lunch, and she bet me I couldn’t learn how
to do it. She lost. It only took me three times!”
    “Hmmm,” she said again. She ‘hmmms’ a lot
when she doesn’t know what to make of a situation. Suddenly, her
tone softened a bit and she smiled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,
Jake.”
    She looked over at Jake, who she thought was
me, sitting on the bed. “Nikki, dinner’s in an hour.” She looked at
me and asked, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Jake? We’re
having tri-tip tonight, and afterwards we are going to watch a
movie.”
    I couldn’t believe she was inviting him, even
if it really was me, over to dinner and movie night. She never
invites anyone to movie night. “Oh, thank you Mrs. Evans, but
Nicole mentioned that it is a family thing. I wouldn’t want to
intrude. Besides, my mother is expecting me for dinner.”
    “Maybe next time. Oh, and please, call me
Sara.”
    “Thank you, Sara.”
    She smiled and walked out of the room.
    I turned and looked at Jake. “What kind of an
excuse was that? ‘I learned how to braid hair, and you didn’t
believe me?’ Let me come up with the explanations with my parents.
At least when we’re both here, okay?”
    “I’m sorry, I was trying to help.”
    “I know,” I said with a nervous laugh, “it
just didn’t help a whole lot. She was pretty skeptical of the
situation.”
    “She thinks that was bad,” he offered,
“she should have seen when you were doing my makeup.” We both
smiled. It could have been worse, I guess.
    “Why don’t you take me back to your house
now, so you can be back in time for dinner.”
    “Sure,” he said, getting up off of the
bed.
    We gathered his stuff together into his
backpack and we headed downstairs. I whispered over to Jake, “Go
over and tell her that you are going to take me home and you’ll be
back in about an hour.”
    He did as I instructed and we both headed out
to the car. We drove in silence for a while. There were so many
things we needed to cover today, that time kind of got away from
me. Now that we’ve stopped for a few minutes, exhaustion from the
day was starting to catch up. I was tired.
    “I’m going to get a head start on your
homework tonight, and then I’m going to crash. I’m tired,” I
said.
    “Yeah, I’m tired, too. After the movie, I’m
hoping to go straight to bed. What time do you want me to pick you
up tomorrow?”
    “Well,” I thought out