To no one's shock and awe, it's trig that I'm cramming for. I didn't tutor at all with Havana after Monday (that I barely remember), and yesterday was ... yesterday. I mean, it was fun don't get me wrong, but I felt so out of place hearing all these terms I wasn't even aware of in the English Language (both academic and ... otherwise, thanks to Stewart). Havana made me a comprehensive list of terms and formulas I should be aware of for the test, to my surprise done in glitter pen. I wouldn't have taken her for a glitter gal like myself, and honestly, it's been quite the help. If I know anything inside out, it's color-coding. I've been up since 8 this morning working my head off, and now it's almost 1. My stomach has been growling ferociously at me for at least 4 of those hours, but I've tried to keep the hunger at bay with some water. After a rather terrifying almost 10-minute straight rumble fest, it's evident that I can no longer ignore the call to the fridge. 

When I make my way to the kitchen, I fix myself your average peanut butter and jelly and pair it with some Cheetos. Now, I'm not sure if this is a thing amongst the public, but growing up we used to have PB&J and chips frequently in elementary school. One day in 1st grade, Mallory stuffed the chips in between her sandwich, which I'd never seen or thought of before. As she crunched away messily, the sheer joy and crumbs on her face made me curious, so I put one measly chip in the corner of my sandwich and took a bite. Needless to say, ten years later I'm still experiencing the best of both worlds. I turn the TV on and flip to a re-run of Daria, who, may I add, is just the White version of me. Except without the peppy, airheaded sister to boot. Heh, if anything Quinn is in many ways similar to Jhene without the protruding devil horns. In a way or two, Jane reminds me of Mal -- able to match my humor to a degree, but balances off my dryness with some optimism (but not to an overbearing degree). Hm... maybe Havana would be like Jodie, smart and high-strong. Maybe not the token Black girl around our school but stand out in other ways, like being the one and only girl on the football team in our school's history. 

***

That's a memorable day. Mal and I were wee little freshmen coming up on our first game of the season. Now, until Julian Romero became our Student Body President, there weren't many dramatics around the school, but on this day, I remember learning about the origins of Buddhism one moment, then the scratchy decibel-breaking intercom coming on the next: 

What a "special announcement" meant, no one knew. All of us left the classroom, me following behind everyone else, as we made our way to the front of the school. Everyone talked amongst themselves about what it could be; new toilets for the restroom? four-day school week? By the time I couldn't move up any more in the crowd, I barely got a view of the set-up: there stood the football team, our principals, and in the middle of all of them, a girl so nervous: Havana Sommers. The principal tapped on his microphone until the feedback pierced all our eardrums. 

"Right, good afternoon students and faculty!", Principal Mars spoke. All of us roared "good afternoon" in unison when prompted. "Thank you all so much for being here, and thank you to our wonderful local new station KWEP-19 for joining us today!" The news? Wow, maybe we were getting a four-day school week after all. 

"On behalf of Fireside High School and the Fireside High football team, I am more than pleased to announce that as of today, August 25th, 1997, this outstanding young lady by my side has made school history," Principal Mars continued, patting Havana on the back. Havana scratched her arm relentlessly. Hard to imagine a time when she didn't have that log of a letterman on her person every day. 

"Miss Havana Sommers, we are honored and want to congratulate you on becoming Fireside High's first-ever female football player!" Principal Mars air clapped to not upset the mic, and a bunch of applause followed him -- real applause, not the forced kind. Even I gave a clap or two, though truthfully, I had no idea who she was at the time. Maybe football isn't my thing, but any move that advances women and girls forward in their fields will get praise from me. The news being there looking back definitely gave an air of PR, but not that it mattered much to Havana, who smiled from ear to ear, as well as the guys cheering her on. All-in-all, very celebratory, but I didn't understand why this couldn't have been an afterschool announcement because, of course, I would be the one so eager to get back in the classroom.

"Any words for the school, Miss Sommers?" Principal Mars asked, handing her the mic. 

"W-well," Havana started. Before she could go on, all you heard were chants of "Speech! Speech! Speech!" in the crowd, and if I got a better view of it all then I'm sure I would've seen her blushing.

"Haha, uh, thank you so much!" she went on. "I just want to thank Coach Meyers and Coach Gamez for allowing me to be a part of the team. I love the game of ball, and I'm ready to show what I got!" More applause followed, but there was a distinct cheer in the background I could make out like the drop of a pin in a silent room.

"Yeah, go Havana!" Mallory yelled at the top of her lungs. I looked over to see where she was -- turns out only a mere few feet away from me. That pleased me, but before I got the chance to say anything, everyone started to go back to their classes. Getting lost in the rush of students, I was able to get one last glance at Mal, and as opposed to everyone else, she stood for a little longer, looking completely in awe of Havana. A different type of awe I'd only seen before when it came to our discovery of who UnDoSieTech were mere months prior.

Mal looked totally and utterly infatuated. I felt this weird pang I hadn't yet felt before, and I wasn't sure what it meant. However, on the bus ride home, she couldn't stop talking about Havana. 

"How do you even know her?" I asked.

"Well, you remember that friend I told you Jhene made that keeps her off my back these days?" Mal asked. "That's her! Ugh, isn't she so cool?! Well, I think she's cool! And the way she looked so happy was so cool! Am I using that word a lot? Whatever, anyway ..." 

As Mal went on, my hearing started to fade in and out. I distinctly remember just staring at her lips as they talked. The words got lost, but she spoke so passionately, so wholeheartedly. I'd been familiar with this already because that's always been in her character, and I liked that about her. Maybe even loved that about her when I think of it. This time, though, I felt odd. Odd that her excitement didn't excite me. I thought it could've been because of the football talk, but Mal didn't even touch on football much at all if I remember correctly. All it'd been was praise on top of praise on top of more praise for Havana.

Havana. Havana. Havana...

*****

I crunch on my sandwich and snort after recalling that memory. Oh my goodness... jealousy. I was jealous! God, I don't even remember if I realized my feelings for Mallory back then. I shake my head at the thought; I mean? Me, jealous of Havana? On no real basis other than the fact that she was being praised, as she should've been. Sheesh, I needed a huge reality check back then. Maybe it wouldn't have taken Havana becoming my tutor then for me to know she was just like, some girl. Just a girl. A girl who I speculate would enjoy the art of a nice Cheeto-fied PB&J. 

Not sure when commercial break happened, but soon as it's up my door was knocked on. I rise from the couch and look through the peephole. Ah, as convenient as coincidence occurs!

"Hi hi!" Mallory greets me, all smiley, when I open the door. 

"Hey, to what do I owe the honor?" I ask, cheeks burning against the deepened fall air. Mal. Has. Bed. Head. Or at least remnants of it, evident by the flyaways and the fact that she must've thrown on her sweatpants hastily with her very mismatched Looney Tunes pajama shirt. Thank goodness there's sandwich residue on my hands or I wouldn't know whether to scream in them or take Mal by the cheeks once and for all and pull her in.

"Intuition told me you would need a study buddy," Mal explains, tip-toed. "May I?" I let her in with a curtsy. Wait...

"How did you know I was studying?" I cock my eyebrow. 

"Uh, educated guess?" Mal shrugs 'innocently'. I look at her with my best "nice try" look, even if I don't need a real reason to see her. "What, like you aren't studying all the time anyway?"

"Uh-huh. I'll let you have that one," I tell her. "Want me to make you a sandwich?"

"No thanks, not hungry yet," Mal declines, yawning extremely loudly. "I just woke up."

"Did you?" I feign my shock. "And you immediately thought of me and asked your parents to come over? Aw, you shouldn't have!"

"Haha, very funny," Mal pokes out her tongue. "My parents aren't even home. They're with Jhene at her cheer competition."

"And you aren't because...?" 

"Wouldn't want to be the "embarrassment" of the whole competition," Mal turns her head to the TV. "Oh, I love this episode."

"Wait, back up," I wave my hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean a certain somebody didn't want me there," Mal sighs. "It's whatever, I didn't want to go an hour out of town anyway to be surrounded by snooty cheerleaders."

Usually, I would rag on the cheerleaders with her, but this time I can't help but just feel sorry for Mal. Who tells their own sister that she can't show up to their cheer competition? What, does Jhene not want all the support she can get? I silently seethe when I look into Mal's forlorn eyes. She can put up a front all she wants, but I know deep down, it hurts her to the core. 

"So, studying," I finally say. "Let me go grab my stuff so we can get the party started, huh?"

"Please!" Mal raises her fist, still glued to the TV. I start to make my way upstairs.

"Ready for the tests, yet?" Mal asks before I can even reach the second step. "You know --"

"I know, they're incredibly easy," I finish her sentence. "You've been telling me all week."

"Just sayin'," Mal sits up to face me. "Even the trig test!"

"Right," I shake my head. "So easy!"

"I swear! Besides, the tutoring has been working, right?" Mal makes her eyebrows dance. 

"And what's that supposed to insinuate?" I put my hand on my hip. 

"Well, you know..." Mal smiles gleefully. Oh, boy I know where this is going. "I recall someone absolutely dreeeeaaading the idea of ever studying with another someone, and now those certain someones are attending Math Decathlon meetings together ..."

I scoff. "You didn't show up on purpose yesterday?!" 

"That was an accident, actually!" Mal clarifies. "I totally forgot. I swear, I got like, that attention deficiency or whatever those crazy boys at school have." I wince when I hear that; I can understand where she's coming from but after learning about Havana's ADHD, there's so much I got wrong. I know she didn't mean anything by it, so I take a breath. 

"How was that, anyway?" Mal asks next. 

"It was fine," I quickly answer, trying not to think so hard about it. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry I abandoned you," Mal pouts. "But I'm here now!"

"Gee, thanks," I say flatly, gauging an offended silent gasp from Mallory. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Don't be long, miss you already!" I hear Mal call once I'm out of view. Tingles run through my body, putting a pep in my step so I can shut my door for a moment and slump against it to take a breather. Must we talk about her all the time? I look at my desk, where my calculator and trig notes await my arrival. I sigh and click my tongue. I always said if I could talk to Mallory about anything and everything no matter the 5 W's and an H, I would. Havana's just become a hot topic lately that I hadn't expected. It can't be helped, but sometimes it gets harder to remember what a pre-Havana time was like, which I guess should be a good thing if things were to ever happen between her and Mal. I pick up my calculator, moving it around 360 in my hands. Havana and Mallory. Havana. And. Mallory. Why ... is that such an unsettling thought?

I go back downstairs quietly, watching Mal watch the TV and play with her Gameboy. It's not often at all anymore Mal comes to my place as I come to hers, so it's a bit weird to see her on my couch. I've never given much thought to the couch, but I've sat and laid there a healthy amount of times ... what if I'm somehow permanently within the fabrics of it, even when I'm cleaning? Does Mal sense it? What about anyone else who's never been over? Would they be able to sense it?

Just a coincidental example; Havana. Does she know my "essence" yet, so to speak, to be able to notice it if she ever came over? What reason, actually, would she have for coming over? Not like I could tell Mom it was for tutoring. Maybe she got locked out of the Setiawans by accident and needed my help. Do I just, turn her away, or ...

Wait, this is way too elaborate a scenario. 

I set everything down at the kitchen table, and Mallory perks up. "There you are! Ready?" Mal hops off the couch and sits at the table. The sudden burst of energy is refreshing. 

"Oh, Zo?"

 

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a sandwich after all?" Mal requests, puppy-eyeing me. It's like she's doing this to me on purpose. 

"Sure," I oblige. "I'm feeling peckish again all the sudden myself."

"Peckish," Mal says in an uppity accent, snorting. "You're funny."

"I try," I say dryly. All the ingredients I used are still on the counter, so I go straight to work for a productive session ahead. Simple joys in life, like having a study session with your best-friend-in-the-whole-world-slash-girl-you-absolutely-adore-to-the-universe-and-back, are the stuff of gold. Sharing crunchy sandwiches are the nuggets of gold. Yup. Peanut butter. Strawberry (or grape if you're one of those) jelly. White bread. Joy.