Leaving Atlanta by Tayari Jones Page B

Tayari was on the list
     of alternates.
    After lunch, Monica had only one invitation left. She didn’t even walk over to the lucky girl to deliver it. Instead, she
     handed it to the person next to her and whispered, “Pass it on.” The person looked at the name, written in big loops and circles,
     and gave it to the next kid. Each project girl who handled the pink rectangle made an annoyed sound as she fairly threw it
     along. The boys seemed uneasy and quickly sent the frilly thing on. Tasha kept her eye on the prize as it came her way; it
     had to pass two alternates before it got to her. Angelite Armstrong passed it to Tayari and it stopped.
    Maybe Tayari was just playing; after all, she was a cutup. Maybe she was going to hold it awhile, thank Monica in a funny
     voice, and then pass it on. Surely Monica and Forsythia weren’t still mad about what Tasha had said to Jashante. They couldn’t
     be.
Monica
had been the one who was talking about him living in the projects in the first place. And anyway, they didn’t even like Jashante.
     He didn’t eat lunch with them again after that first day. Part of it probably was that he hadn’t been to school that much
     this month. But when he was here last week, he sat with some other boys and didn’t even look over at Forsythia or Monica.
     Maybe he had forgotten all about that day. Tasha had said hi to him when she was on her way to the water fountain a couple
     of weeks ago. He didn’t say hi back, but he lifted his head up and jutted his chin a little bit to show that he had heard
     her.
    But what had Forsythia said that day?
I never did like her.
Monica had agreed. But that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. The two of them had been to her house. Twice. They might not like
     her
now
, but they
used
to. And they might still. Tayari needed to stop playing around—she was really immature sometimes—and just pass Tasha that
     pretty invitation.
    Tayari ripped open the envelope, not even bothering to save the sticky magenta heart. Tayari looked as surprised as Tasha.
     She spun her head on her neck, grinning so hard her molars showed. Tasha ran her finger down a column of spelling words, as
     if this week’s quiz were the reason she was on the brink of tears.
    “What’s the matter?” Daddy asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Monica’s having a party and Tasha didn’t get an invitation,” DeShaun said while stuffing the end of a hot dog into her mouth.
    “I thought Monica was your friend,” Daddy said.
    Where had he been for the last month? On Mars?
    “She used to be,” Tasha said.
    “Well,” Mama said brightly, “let’s all go bowling.”
    Bowling? Mama couldn’t possibly think a
family outing
would be an acceptable substitute for a party, could she?
    Daddy took a swallow of beer and said, “Tasha, if Monica doesn’t want you at her party, then she was never your friend in
     the first place. Don’t worry about it.”
    Tasha could tell from his tone that he was trying to be comforting, but she burst into tears anyway.
    Mama gave Daddy a see-what-you-did look and he gave back his confused what-did-I-do? glance. DeShaun slurped up the last of
     the soda. “Ahh!” she said, like people on commercials.
    Then, the phone rang. Mama answered.
    “Hello? Why hello, Ayana,” Mama stressed the name. She raised her eyebrows to say
Do you feel like talking?
Tasha nodded.
    “Tasha’s right here,” Mama said, looking to see if Tasha was composed. “So how are you liking middle school?” she asked.
    Tasha was hurriedly drying her eyes as if Ayana could see through the telephone wires.
    “Hey!” Ayana said, when Tasha finally got to the phone. “I thought your mama was going to talk me to death!”
    “She’s just real friendly,” Tasha said, feeling guilty that her mother had appeared inappropriately loquacious just to hide
     Tasha’s tears.
    “Anyway,” Ayana said. “I was just calling to see if you want to go with me to Skate Towne.”
    “Hold on,” Tasha