Who Am I Without Him? by Sharon Flake Page B

get the words out. “I . . .” She promised herself all the way to school she was just gonna come out and say she liked him. And that she wanted him to call her sometimes, even if her dad didn’t want boys calling the house. “I . . .” she said again. But it was too late. The bell rang.
    Noodles almost knocked Ona down trying to get to E. E pushed Noodles so hard his books fell on the floor. “Man. Ain’t you got no manners?” he said. “I’m with somebody.”
    Noodles wanted to fight E right then and there. He didn’t like being embarrassed. But he kept his hands at his side ’cause E was his boy. He would let him slide, this time , he thought.
    Ona was so happy. He likes me , she thought. Then she brought up the homecoming dance. “You going?”
    E bit down on his lip and watched Noodles slink away. “Naw. I don’t do stuff like that.”
    Ona waved to her friend Maria. A few minutes later she was sorry, though, ’cause right away Maria asked Ona whom she was going to the dance with. Before Ona answered, Maria turned to E. “For sure you’re not going with him. Unless you got a dress that matches holey jeans and dirty sneakers.” Ona grabbed a hunk of her friend’s arm and pinched.
    â€œOuch!”
    Ona’s eyes dared her friend to say a word, then she and E headed for art class in silence. When the teacher turned off the lights to show them a film, Ona apologized to E. He played it off. Said he’d already forgotten about her bigmouthed friend. “Anyhow, I could go to the dance if I wanted.”
    Ona felt sorry for him.
    â€œYou going?” E asked her.
    She moved her desk closer to his. “You wanna take me?”
    E didn’t say a word at first. But his head was full of excuses. I ain’t got no clothes, no ride, no money for the dance tickets. But when he spoke, the word “Yes,” came out strong and clear, like it had been sitting on his tongue for years, just waiting to give Ona whatever she wanted.
    Ona’s head turned around so fast she heard her neck bones crack. “Okay. What color are you going to wear?”
    E couldn’t open his mouth. All he kept thinking was how stupid he was for asking Ona to go to the dance when he knew his mother didn’t have any money to get new clothes, and he didn’t have a job.
    Noodles popped E upside the head when E told him what he’d done. E sat in his bedroom window. Pushed at the puffed-out plastic filled with wind. “Maybe I can still find a job or something.”
    Noodles asked E how many applications he’d put in over the last six months.
    â€œThirty.”
    â€œWell, ain’t you figured it out yet? They don’t want you,” Noodles said.
    E looked scared. Embarrassed, too. “The jitney station might give me a few dollars for cleaning up.”
    Noodles came over to E. Pulled out a chocolate bar. “Only one thing to do,” he said, breaking the candy in two. “Steal it.”
    E was quiet for a long while. “Steal what?”
    â€œWhatever you need. Clothes. Shoes. Socks.”
    E watched the crap game going on across the street.
    â€œSteal the money, or steal the clothes,” Noodles said. “Shoot. I need me some clothes, too.”
    E’s sisters came into the room and started digging through a tall brown box in which they kept their clothes. “I need to put another shirt on. It’s cold in here,” six-year-old Erie said.
    E stared at the gloves on her hands. Looked at his sister in a torn jacket, and heard Noodles’s words loud and clear. “Steal it.” So that’s what he did.
    Noodles just wanted to go to a store, try on some clothes, and walk out. E wanted the money. Said his sisters needed stuff, too. And his mother needed help with the bills.
    â€œWhat you planning to do? Rob a bank?” Noodles laughed.
    E smiled.
    â€œA bank. For real?