02  

 JOL NWANI WAS ONCE again laying against the grassy ground at the park late in the night, only this time she hadn’t had an argument with her parents prior to her arrival. She had her music playing—without headphones this time so that she could hear nearing footsteps.  A soft song about women—as always—was playing. It was a female artist she’d found on social media, which was where she found all of her undiscovered artists these days.  

Footsteps stumbled through the dark, stomping shoes interrupting her music and snapping Jol back into focus. She turned, bracing her body on her hand as she twisted to look behind her into the darkness. There was muttering that sounded close, and then someone stepped on her hand.  

Jol’s yelp sounded like that of a scared dog.  

The person, who was revealed to be Aafia under the light of her phone’s flashlight, swore.  

“For fuck’s sake, kid—”  

“I’m so sorry Jol, I didn’t want to disturb you so I just followed the music, but then the music got quiet, and I thought I was close but apparently I was too close, and—” Jol grunted.

“Why the fuck didn’t you just turn your flashlight on?” Jol scoffed. Aafia stammered. Jol rolled her eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments.  

Jol was the first one to crack a smile, but Aafia followed . Soon, they were giggling on the grassy ground. Aafia turned her head, making eye contact with Jol who was lying next to her, and they fell into laughter once more. Jol felt giddy; like a child. She dared to look over at the girl next to her, then looked away before Aafia could make eye contact again. She smiled to herself as she stared up at stars, a soundtrack of laughter and indie music playing in her ears.  

She opened her phone, clicking on a new playlist she’d made earlier in the day with a certain stranger in mind. She pressed play.  

Aafia sat up and looked at her. Jol smiled gently. Aafia smiled back.  

“Hey! I brought some of my art to show you!” Aafia suddenly shot up and shouted. She turned to her bag, searching through it for something—her artworks, apparently. She dug her arm in, jumping up with an “aha!” when she found what she was looking for. Aafia looked at Jol, then, and smiled brightly. Jol smiled back.  

“Want to see some of my artworks?” Aafia asked, voice full of hope. 

“Yes, yes I would.” Jol replied, tone gentle.   

They spent the rest of the night bent over Aafia’s sketchpad, smiling at each other secretly and giggling whenever they made eye contact.  

―

The next night, Jol found herself back at the park, storming along the paved walkway; she had fought with her parents once again. Jol pushed her curls out of her face, huffing as she did so. The night air was cool against her skin, but her breath was still hot and her eyes were still stormy. Her skin felt like it was on fire.  

She felt like she was suffocating in her own anger.  

Humming. In the distance, there were the faint sounds of a girl humming.  

Aafia.  

The humming stopped when the girl got near enough to see Jol’s rage under the dim street lights. Jol sighed, and wished she was a normal girl with normal parents. She wished she was free.  

Aafia did a little shoulder wiggle that made Jol want to laugh. When she didn’t, Aafia sighed. Then, she shot up and started dancing around, laughing as she did so. Her laughter was so contagious, that Jol smiled, too. She giggled softly at the strange girl that liked dancing in the park at midnight. Jol joined her.  

“I brought cake,” Aafia said with a smile that lit up the night. Jol plopped down where she was, and made grabby hands for the box in Aafia’s arms.  

“Gimme.” Jol pouted when Aafia sat down before handing over the cake. Aafia hid her grin behind her hand, but the other girl saw it. “C’mon! Gimme!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air like Aafia.  

Aafia giggled. Jol pouted.  

Then, with an idea, Jol slid closer to the other girl. Aafia didn’t notice, too busy grinning at the cake she was holding hostage. Jol slid closer. Aafia glanced over with a smile, but said nothing.  

Then, with a cry, Jol dove for the cake. “Sneak attack!” she shouted as she yanked the box out of Aafia’s arms and held it to her chest. She opened the box, only to find the cake smashed to one side of the box. She frowned at the writing that clearly used to say ‘Happy Birthday, Bob!’  

“You stole this cake, didn’t you?” Jol said. Aafia nodded, giggling to herself. She covered her mouth with her hand, but her laughter was still audible. Jol stared at her in pretend shock, then glanced at the cake. “You criminal!” she gasped.  

Aafia broke out into laughter, rapidly nodding while tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Jol followed her with gasping howls. She set the cake next to her and bent at the waist. Cackles poured out of the two girls.  

Jol had never felt goofier.  

After a while, they calmed down and actually ate the smushed cake. They used cups as scoopers, and dug the cake out of the cups with their hands. By the time the cake was gone, they were both a mess.  

“I still can’t believe you forgot forks!” Jol gasped out between her guffaws sometime later. She'd been teasing Aafia about it for a while.  

“It was an honest mistake!” Aafia said, raising her cake-covered hands in the air. Jol pointed at the evidence on Aafia’s fingers as if it was the answer to all her questions. Then she looked at her pointed finger, also covered in cake and frosting, and they both fell into hysterics once more.  

―

Aafia was lying down on the grass, Jol next to her. They’d moved some time ago, and now they were  watching the stars pass by. It seemed like moments, but soon they were drifting off to the sounds of the woods at night.  

When Jol awoke, it was to a sharp kick to her side and a runted demand to get moving. She sat up slowly, squinting at the harsh morning light. She turned her head to the left and found Aafia in the same situation she was in.

Then. she felt a sharp kick to her side, and the grumpy male voice once again demanded that she moved, something about his child’s safety and ‘dirty sinners’—whatever that meant. She got up slowly, stumbling out of the park without looking at the rude man that had kicked her awake. Aafia was right next to her, though far more awake. She had to remember to open her eyes after every time she blinked, and her legs felt like they weren’t working. Aafia turned down a side street with a muttered goodbye and a tired smile. Eventually she was only a block away from her house.  

Jol’s house wasn’t absolutely terrible, but it definitely wasn’t one of the upper middle-class white-picket-fence two story homes that most of her classmates lived in. No, Jol’s house was lived in, but in the worst way. Her papa liked to leave his socks in front of the front door where he left his boots, and her mama liked to refuse help and then complain that she did everything herself. The dishes were only done when they were stacked on the countertops and the island bar, and the living room was practically her papa’s bedroom; it was where he kept all his clothes and all his trash. Jol’s mama never even went in the living room anymore. Instead, she overworked herself and picked up as many extra shifts that she could to stay out of the house.  

When Jol was young it wasn’t like that. But then again, when Jol was young things were okay, and Najat was still around.   

Jol entered the house with a sigh. She scrunched her nose up and breathed through her mouth until she was in her bedroom. Her mama wasn’t home to lecture her on responsibilities, so that was one benefit of coming home.  

She threw herself back on her bed, falling asleep to the memories of bright laughter and cake-covered hands.  

She dreamt of the stars and Aafia’s smile.