Chapter 19: Searching For a New Balance

Tuesday morning Mr. White dropped me off at school early, as usual. I went to the library to get out of the rain and since my first period classroom was unappealing. I worked on the homework that was still uncompleted. At the warning bell I packed up my things and put what was done into my old locker. In the papers I had included a note about coming over on Wednesday. I had prioritised the work by class period, which meant biology was left. Then, I went to my locker and found what had been left for me.

Looking at the messy scrawls confronting me, it dawned on me that a teacher might think I, and by logic, Jamerica were cheating. Learning how to write to pass a teacher's inspection wasn't a problem I was willing to tackle today. Thus, I turned in the work as given to me in each class. Despite my constant attempts to complete Biology before lunch, taking notes so that Jamerica could do the homework and learn the topics took my entire concentration. Providentially, Rosa and the others at the table were understanding about my need to complete an assignment and talked amongst themselves while I worked. It was nice to feel like I was accepted.

Once the sheet was complete, I didn't know how to get it to Jamerica. Only a few minutes later after considering my options, my body started responding in fear. Since Edward was the only one who created that reaction in me, I turned to see where he was. Sure enough he was only a few feet from me heading towards me. As soon as he came to the table, he put out his hand. His presence caused everyone at the table at least, and maybe in the entire cafeteria to stare at him. He said nothing only looked at me.

Obviously, he would be Jamerica's lab partner and so giving it to him ensured she got it without me having to interact with her. I trusted him enough to do that. I picked up the sheets and he took them from me, and then he walked away. Not a word had been spoken, but it seemed significant. His actions created so many questions. He was strange, for sure, but his action had been helpful and kind. I didn't know what to make of him. One thing seemed certain was that he kept popping up. The scariest part was the implication that he knew I was doing work that didn't belong to the body I inhabited. How was that possible?

The bell rang, so I tucked my questions away for later.

Rosa whispered in my ear as we walked out of the cafeteria, "What was that about?"

"I don't really know," I told her, which was the closest to the truth that seemed safe.

"Does he like you or something?" she asked, emphasising "he."

"I have no idea," I told her honestly, "but if he does, it doesn't matter, because I have no interest in getting mixed up with a boy right now."

She nodded her head sagely and confided in me, "My parents won't allow me to date yet."

Another thing I had no idea about. Maybe it was something to ask Mrs. White about.

Quillayute was the only class where I really had to focus in order to participate, which was a godsend after being merely a scribe the whole day. For the first time, I was beginning to appreciate how some other students might struggle to get good grades, as usually school work, even classes that I didn't prefer, came easily to me.

The Whites wanted me to do well. It wasn't that they didn't make time for me or encourage me. Rather, the challenge in getting the work done was Jamerica's responsibilities outside of school. Since they were financially struggling, in order for her parents to work, they needed help with the little ones. I had a brief memory of Angela mentioning something like that to me during the week Edward had been away, but it seemed like her father's job was sufficient for their family. The Whites had two incomes. Mrs. White had mentioned something about expenses due to Mr. White's mother. Hospital expenses or funeral expense or both were the possibilities that came to mind. It seemed fairly obvious that they needed help at the moment. And thus, they were highly unlikely to have money for their daughter to go to college, whether that ended up being me or Jamerica. These thoughts just made me more determined to do well in school in order to qualify for a scholarship, while also helping out with the boys.

Exhausted once more from the day, I was grateful my classes were done, and went back to my locker. Finding all the papers left for me, I put them in my backpack with a sigh and started for home. When I opened my bag and looked at everything, I noticed that in addition to Jamerica's notes, there were duplicate for Biology from Edward, and a note from her confirming Wednesday. Edward's notes were far superior and actually legible. I could kiss him from pure exuberance and relief.

My thought shocked me and I put it away immediately. I was stretched too thin to have enough time for school; just like I had told Rosa, there was no room in my life for a crush.

When Mrs. White got home with the boys, I immediately went down and helped Martin with his homework. He didn't have much, so I tried teaching him the little Quillayute I understood in order to practice my pronunciation. He spoke some, and it was honestly helping me. A few times Mrs. White yelled from the kitchen slight alterations in the sounds, and I worked at copying her.

At the table once everyone had started eating, I told Mrs. White, "Rosa said that her mom agreed to lend her the car, so that we could go to Port Angeles, and then be back to Forks by ten. Would that be okay?"

"Friday?" she verified.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

She spent some time pondering. "I can give you ten dollars for a food court meal, but otherwise you'd be browsing. That going to bother you?"

"No," I told her. "I'm accustomed to living on a tight budget, and I don't really like shopping, but it seems like a nice way to spend time with her."

Mr. White looked at me funny and then examined his wife before focusing once more on the food. His facial expressions made it painfully obvious that she hadn't clued him in, which surprised me a little, because I had expected her to.

His reaction filled me with embarrassment, and I regretted being so cavalier with my answers. I would have to do better in the future.

"There's more to do in Port Angeles than shopping. You could walk the pier when you first get there," she suggested. "It'll be nippy, but the view is nice."

Her words seemed to jar him once more, but after a few glances between the two of us he shook his head and seemed to put it out of his mind.

"Thank you," I told her sincerely.

"No later than ten," she agreed. "And you must stick together."

"Yes, ma'am," I assented easily.

"Glad to hear that you're making new friends," Mr. White added with a smile, as if it was important to him to add his two cents.

Charlie was so taciturn that I didn't know how to take his desire to ensure he was included in the decisions. Maybe this is what it looked like to have parents together. At least he was similar to Charlie in not needing to know the details.

Nevertheless, I was unsure of how to respond, so simply nodded and smiled back.

Getting as much done before bed as possible, I nevertheless kept my promise to Mrs. White, and went to sleep early, considering how the day felt like it might be the beginning of a new life.

Wednesday at school transpired much the same, and I became more certain that Edward had copped on.

After school Jamerica drove us to the White's residence in Big Red. I worked really hard at keeping my eyes forward, as seeing myself as an outsider was still beyond what my mind could handle, despite me becoming more comfortable with the skin surrounding me.

During the drive, it was easy to tell that she was nervous. In an attempt to distract her, I told her, "Thank Edward for his Biology notes. They were very useful."

She nodded saying nothing and the cab was once more filled with an uncomfortable silence.

"Let's go to my-I mean your room," she stated after parking.

She appeared sad, yet resolved, like she had known the cost and had deemed it worthwhile. I didn't agree, but then remembered my epiphany that I wasn't fit to judge, and maybe would have done the same thing in her shoes. It was strange to consider how much her actions had changed me. The swap had totally altered how I saw my life, and even what seemed romantic.

With the extra time due to getting a ride home, we were able to get through almost all of the subjects she was in. I told her that, as my subjects were a grade below, they weren't as worrisome for me. It was odd and awkward, though, as neither of us were comfortable looking at the other.

When we got to Biology she confided in me, "Edward is getting a poor lab grade because of me."

"Yeah?" I asked curious.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "He refuses to do the work for me, so he's suffering. Mr. Banner seems pleased about it."

"I imagine he'll do fine. He was the top student," I assured her.

Just about then Mrs. White and the boys were heard entering into the house.

"We're almost finished," I yelled down to Mrs. White.

She came up and looked at my body sadly for a brief moment, then pulled herself into a more neutral state and asked, "Staying for dinner?"

"I should let my Dad know," was the answer.

"I will," Mrs. White replied and then left the room.

At a whisper, I told her, "I call my parents by their first names, except with Charlie when I'm talking to him."

Her eyes got big and she uttered, "That would never fly here. It's Ma or Mama and Pop or Pops."

"Let's finish Biology and then you can school me on other things a little," I suggested.

Despite her notes about her family, there was so many more questions I had.

Martin could be heard complaining about not having me to help him. My heart warmed at his desire for my presence.

We tried a little more with Biology, but it was clearly her hardest subject. Eventually, as nothing seemed to be sticking, we called it quits.

She spoke a little about how the White household was run, which mostly I had figured out. I did learn about setting a timer for showers and a little more about the make-up she used. It was interesting to me to learn how difficult it was for her to find foundation that matched her skin tone, as that had never been a problem for me.

When Mrs. White yelled up to us for dinnertime, we came down. Martin asked lots of questions. Assuring him that I would help with his homework after dinner, he calmed. The boys were boisterous as always, which was actually helpful this time, as us three females were at a loss for conversation.

After we finished, Jamerica told her mother, "Thank you, Mrs. White," and then headed out.

I helped Martin with his homework and then bathed them, while Mrs. White cleaned the kitchen. When the noise calmed some she could be heard sobbing. After the boys were in bed, I went to her bedroom door and told her through it, as it had remained closed, "I'm sorry."

I wanted to judge Jamerica for hurting her mother, but then reminder myself that if I had been as enamoured with a boy as she was, I might have been willing to leave my parents behind. I had thought myself a considerate person, but when I had really searched myself and had been honest, my conclusion was that some of the same selfishness that was within Jamerica lived within me. The shame I had experienced the last time I had acknowledged how with Romeo and Juliet being my ultimate models of love, I would have likely following the example of true love filled me once more. It only solidified my decision to improve my models and change my views on love.

In the morning I woke up early enough to help Mrs. White make oatmeal.

While we worked together, I debated with myself. On one hand, I needed to talk to someone, and there would be no half-truths with her. On the other hand, it was a little like throwing the situation in her face. Eventually, I talked myself into speaking with her, as the only two other people in the know weren't suitable for my questions.

Gathering enough courage, I admitted, "My favourite love story has been Romeo and Juliet since I can remember. Now I think of them selfish and self-centred, causing grief to their families."

Mrs. White frowned and then a slight smile lifted her cheeks at the end.

Continuing, I told her, "I want to have a different love model, but I don't know where to begin. I was wondering if you could help me?"

She paused what she was doing, washed and dried her hands, and then walked out of the kitchen. Assuming she was going to answer my question, I followed her. She appeared to be heading towards her room, so I halted and waited for her close to the bottom of the stairs. It didn't take long for her to return with two books. The first had a dark brown cover, no pictures, and the words were in a type of gold emboss. When she handed it to me, I noted the title, Love, and the author, Toni Morrison. It was an author I had never heard about before, which embarrassed me, because my self-perception had been that I was aware of nearly all female authors. My first thought was that maybe she was a minor writer. Her bibliography was something to explore later. Before I could open the cover and peruse it, like I usually did when coming across an unfamiliar book, she handed me Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich, also an author I had never read. The cover had a pink top where her name was and then underneath a person with their fist out and braided hair blowing behind them on a horse. Two authors in a row that were completely foreign to me caused me to feel embarrassed.

Mrs. White moved to resume her chores, so a step behind her, I told her, "Thanks."

Once in the kitchen, I took a moment to examine the books.

"School isn't a place where people from our heritage are showcased," she told me, while getting back to cooking. "There you'll learn European American stories and history told by European Americans and the subjects they value. You might have that within you, so it might appeal to you, but you are also Indigenous and going to be treated like a Black woman, no matter how Native your blood. If you need more education and exposure to things like this, let me know."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, a little taken back by the amount of thought she had given my question.

Quickly putting them in my room, I returned to help. A few minutes later she told me to set the food out, while she went and assisted Mr. White with getting the boys ready.

After breakfast, I packed my bag, grabbed it and one of the books, and was ready by the front door before Mr. White, so took out Love and started it.

When Mr. White finished putting on his gear we left.

"You're doing good," he praised me, as we neared the school. "Know that this trip to Port Angeles with your new friend is because of the improvements we see in you."

"Thanks," I stated, slightly embarrassed by the praise. I had wanted to add "Dad" at the end, but it felt like a lie, and doing so pained me, so it died on my lips.

As expected Big Red wasn't there, so I put the homework in her locker and then went to the library to read a little before the first bell.

The Thursday and Friday passed much like Monday had. I was excited when the last bell rung, indicating that I was free to go to Port Angeles with Rosa.

She was a safe, curious, slow driver, which I enjoyed.

"Have you started driving lessons?" she asked me, while keeping her eyes on the road.

"Yes, I know how to drive," I told her, as there seemed to be no harm in being honest. "But there's no spare car. My mom needs it to take my brothers to school and pick them up after school, while my Dad drives one of the police cruisers."

"I can't imagine having my dad be a cop," she admitted. "I'd be afraid something would happen."

"Maybe in a city like Seattle," I agreed, "but Forks doesn't really have crime. And my dad's done it all my life without anything happening, so there doesn't seem to be any reason to worry."

Finishing my sentence, it dawned on me what a gift it was that our Dads did the same job. It could have been so much worse.

She made noises like my rationale made sense. "My Dad works at the docks in Port Angeles," she confided in me. "He's a supervisor, so it's a lot of hours, but it allows my mom to work part-time."

"Have you thought about college or anything?" I wondered.

She blushed a tiny bit and smiled shyly, while she admitted, "I want to go to college."

"Me too," I disclosed back. "I'm working hard at my grades, because I'll need a scholarship for sure."

"Same for me," Rosa offered. "I'm not sure what I want to do, but all of my ideas require college."

"I don't know either," I divulged, "but college is definitely for me."

She smiled like it was nice to have someone also serious about school and wanting a future outside of Forks.

There was some uncomfortable silence before I ventured a question about her literary interests. Fortunately, it was a topic that carried us until we arrived in the city.

"My mom gave me some food court money, but otherwise told me that I'm only window shopping," I warned her, hoping that she wasn't judgemental about that kind of thing.

She smiled shyly once more and replied, "My mom too."

"Great!" I exclaimed, pleased that we were on similar footing in that way.

She parked downtown. We walked the pier and explored the little shops. As we walked, we would comment about what we had found in ways that were silly, while in the stores we barely spoke to each other. A few of her questions or comments were awkward for me, as I didn't want to lie to her, and I didn't know how to answer truthfully, but overall the conversation flowed. When we had enough of walking, we drove to the mall and ate in the food court. I got tex-mex and was disappointed to find that it didn't taste like food in Arizona, while she had gotten a Chinese dish that came with a fortune cookie. She opened it and read it to me, and then we had a good laugh about how vague the sayings were.

Oddly, in almost every store a sales associate or a security officer had followed me around. At first I assumed that they simply happened to be near me, but as I would browse, they would come with me. Once, I noticed Rosa also being followed. Neither of us had done anything to warrant their scrutiny, so I was perplexed. It was annoying and unsettling, so I tried to ignore them and pretend it wasn't happening.

While walking back to the car and navigating the city streets, Rosa talked about her older sister who was already at college with a scholarship. But, I was only half listening, as my mind was still mulling over our treatment in the shops. My half contributions didn't seem to bother Rosa any, reminding me a little of Jessica, and something for which I was grateful.

We were on the outskirts of the city when a cruiser's lights lit up behind us. Rosa slowed down, and pulled over into the shoulder, but was shaking and she seemed to almost be hyperventilating.

Unsure of what to say to help calm her, I stayed quiet.

She brought her window down as the officer got out of his vehicle.

"Licence and registration," he barked at her, when he had a solid view of us both, looking at me like I was dangerous.

Frowning, I wasn't sure what his problem was.

As he walked back to his cruiser, I called Mr. White and put it on speakerphone. Mr. White's crazy speech, theoretically reminding me that he was lending me the family's phone for an emergency and his instructions on how to use it, suddenly seemed prudent. Charlie would have given me mace, not a cell phone. It made it seem like Mr. White knew something Charlie didn't.

"Everything okay?" he asked me as soon as he picked up.

"Rosa got pulled over and he was really harsh," I told him.

"Did you see his name?" he questioned.

"No," I confessed, even though that was something Charlie had taught me also.

"That's fine, honey," he said in a soothing manner. "Don't make sudden movements. Do what he asks. Keep me on the phone."

"Yes, sir," I agreed, comforted.

Rosa actually looked worse, like all the colour had left her slightly bronze skin and she was turning green.

"Please don't throw up, Rosa," I begged her.

She nodded and took some deep breaths. It didn't look like it helped much, but at least she was trying.

It took such a long time for the officer to get back that my body had gone from getting cold into being cold. My toes were even beginning to hurt.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he questioned in a tone that suggested we were dangerous criminals.

"No, sir," she answered, her voice cracking.

"You were driving over the speed limit without your head lights," he practically barked at her.

I knew her lights had been on the entire time, and they were clearly presently on. And, she was such a cautious driver it was difficult to imagine her speeding, but Charlie had told me to not argue on the side of the road.

Rosa mumbled, "Yes, sir," softly, while she shook in her seat.

Leaning slightly forward and angled towards him, I stated, "Thank you, sir, for working hard at keeping us safe," while taking note of his name on his jacket.

He looked at me like there was something wrong in my head, while he handed Rosa a ticket.

"Drive safe," he demanded. "Wouldn't want two pretty girls like you getting hurt." His words sounded kind, but the tone was menacing.

We waited until he drove off until someone spoke once more.

"You both okay?" Mr. White asked.

"Still here," I confirmed. "Johnson." I put my hand out for the ticket and Rosa handed it to me. She was shaking so hard that I couldn't grab it, so she dropped it into my hand. "The ticket has no badge number."

"Rosa, sweetheart," Mr. White said, "I'm going to call your parents and let them know what happened. If it's okay with your parents and you, I'd like to keep the ticket for a few days."

She nodded her head and I conveyed her agreement.

"My phone is close to dying," I informed him.

"Save your battery, then," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," I agreed, and then disconnected the call.

"Need me to drive?" I asked softly, after we sat in silence for many minutes.

"Yes," she mumbled and then unbuckled.

We traded places. I drove extra carefully, especially since it was likely that Jamerica had a driving permit at most, and we couldn't afford more trouble. The heat of the car helped me get rid of the chill that had settled on me, and Rosa seemed slightly less flushed as the miles went by.

When we got near Forks, I asked her if her parents would be upset with me driving. She contemplated for a few minutes, and then told me it should be fine, and gave me directions to her place. It was a huge relief when I pulled into their drive, parked, and turned the car off.

Her mom immediately opened the door, as if she had been by the window waiting the whole time. She started walking towards us, and stood next to the passenger door waiting for her daughter to open it.

Minutes passed.

It was like we were frozen in place, my hands glued to the steering wheel.

As soon as Rosa opened her passenger door, the sound seemed to shock me, and I got out of the car as fast as possible. She got out, took two steps, and then threw up.

Her mother was at her other side immediately, so I went back into the car and grabbed some of our extra napkins. Taking them to her, both her and her mother thanked me.

She clung to her mother, as her mother practically carried her into the house, even though she was at least an inch shorter than her daughter.

"Thank you for getting her home safely," her father told me, his voice full of emotion.

"Of course, sir," I told him, handing him her keys.

"Come in," he instructed. "I'll ring your parents."

"Thank you," I told him, following him in.

I uneasily sat down in the living room alone. Rosa's crying could be heard along with her mother's soft words of comfort, and her father's tone carried, although the words were not clear.

I didn't have to wait too long until there was a knock on the door. Her father came down, opened the door, and then welcomed in Mrs. White.

Getting up, I went over and stood next to her, basking in the comfort her presence gave me.

"We'll talk more," she told him. "Call us when Rosa is ready."

"Okay," he agreed.

Trailing behind her, she walked like a queen, and I tried to alter my body to mimic her.

She was silent on the drive back to the house.

When we entered Mr. White pulled me into a hug and assured me, "You did the right thing. You're home in one piece." Pulling away, he looked at Mrs. White and then sighed. The exchange had so many emotions in it; I wasn't sure what they were conveying to each other. Nevertheless, it seemed like they weren't going to fill me in when Mr. White told me, "Go to bed. Try and sleep."

"Yes, sir," I stated, walked up the stairs, changed clothes, and fell into bed.

My mind could not balance out my previous experiences with officers and this last one. All afternoon and especially by the cop we had been treated like we were criminals in camouflage. Never before had security guards followed me. Never before had I needed to call Charlie because an officer acted so unprofessionally. My mind struggled to find a reasonable explanation. The only one that came to mind, but could not possibly be true, was that others' treatment of us were because of our skin colour. What happened to being judged by the content of our character? It was all too much. Trying to stay quiet, I cried myself to sleep, exhausted by the fear and relief.