Page 84 of Grown

I look over to the sofa and sigh. “Maybe later.”

Destiny is the first to bust through the door, flying right to the table, followed by Pearl and Phoenix, then Shea, closing the door behind her. Daddy doesn’t come inside.

“Chanty! Chanty! You’re up.”

“Hey, little bits,” I say weakly. “How was school today?

Destiny nods her head. “Good. You feel better? You still got a tummy ache?”

Shea rolls her eyes and walks to our room.

I gulp down the beet juice, wishing it was purple.

Mom buys me a refurbished phone. We take it to Verizon and find we can’t salvage my pictures, contacts, or messages from my old phone.

In my room, I power it up, and the wave of text messages floods my screen, phone seizing in my hand. The newest one from Korey, sent this morning. A link to a song. Usher’s “Throwback.”

You never miss a good thing till it leaves ya

Finally I realized that I need ya

I want ya back.

There are almost fifty messages from him. All songs.

The smell of his cologne makes the room dip into a haze. The phone tumbles to the floor like a brick and I shoot up. Pulse racing, chills descend.

Alone. I’m alone. But I could have sworn he was right behind me.

“Mom! I need a new number.”

I text Gab a few times from my new number, telling her it’s me and that I’ll be starting school next week, but she doesn’t answer. She must have seen the stories by now. Page Six of theNew York Postcalled it “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet.”

It’s kinda clever.

Korey is all over the news, but not for what you’d think. It’s about his forthcoming gospel album, featuring some of the hottest names in the music industry. They’re all over Instagram, tagging him in every photo. His new music video premiers tomorrow. Documentary produced by Richie announced...

He’s everywhere, like water, spreading fast, and flooding.

My muscles... aren’t what they used to be. Mostly from the lack of exercise and nutritious food. Surprised the doctor in the emergency room didn’t find any bruises, breaks, or sprains. Just dehydration and an addiction to codeine.

I fight to fit my new curls under a swim cap. Mom and Coach sit on the sideline, murmuring to each other.

As I slip into the cool water, I roll to my back and stare upat the ceiling, inhaling deep, waiting for relief.

Water can heal anything, Grandma once said. But does it heal hearts?

It’s not the same as floating in the ocean. Nothing seems to be the same anymore. I let myself sink, the world finally quiet.

“What I tell you about showing all that skin!”

Korey!

Bubbles full of my screams reach the surface before I can.

I yelp, thrashing and splashing, whipping my head around.

Is he here? Is he?