F is for Fila

London 2014

I dressed up nice.

Twice. 

Both times he didn’t come. I can only blame myself- trusting guys is the worst idea. Third time’s the charm. I want to ask him to prom today.

I got this oversized flannel shirt from Camberwell. There’s some good charity shops down there. Bits and bobs can make a good outfit sometimes.

I run my fingers over my hair, I pray my bun isn’t messy. On the white girls at school, it looks effortless but whenever I try, Aunty Jen says I look like a rastafarian. I stole her mascara for today, just to look my best for him. Max Adeoluwa Odunfa. He’s my lab partner in chemistry and physics and we sit next to each other in English as well. Period 3 is always science and period 4 every other day is English so I sit with him a lot. He helps me with science and I help him with English. We’re synbiotic. Well, that’s what he said, it took me a moment to get it but that’s ok. Things take me time.

We used to go to the same swimming lessons when we were little too, Saturday mornings at the Wellesley Leisure centre in pool B. Pool B was the middle one, not quite the kiddy pool but not the big one where the kids that want to go big practice. They only stay there for a little while before they move somewhere else. The Life Centre is the best place for them but it’s just so far. Anyway, he quit swimming when he was twelve and I quit a year after.

When I broke my leg, I gained weight and my swimsuit showed it too much. When Rachel Jonas called me an orca and Hannah Spry said I looked like a walrus, I realised swimming wasn’t for me. It’s ok.

I don’t mind their teasing, it's just friendly, I guess. I am fat. They are right.

He joined rugby after quitting swimming and I joined a book club. Lade’s Ladies’ weekly meeting is at 19:30 on Thursday nights for an hour. It’s lovely, really, and even though I’m the youngest, it doesn’t feel that way. There’s Carol the bus driver, Maryam the librarian and of course Lade who is incredibly fond of alliteration, and a criminal lawyer. Sometimes other people come as well; we come every week.

Max said I’m too young to be in a book club but he said he’ll come one week to try it out. I’m still waiting on him but I know he will. Lots of people don’t keep their promises with me but Max does. 

I hate it. 

I don’t understand why someone would make a promise they won’t keep. I understand logically that life ‘happens’, Aunty Jen always says that; I hate it so much. Aunty Jen said if she didn’t turn up on time to foster me, I would have stayed in the care home. I laugh because she is being sarcastic but I would have. At least there they didn’t make promises to me. 

I was at Pillmere Oaks for a few years. Aunty Jen says mum was a troubled woman. Rachel Jonas and Hannah Spry said she was a crackhead. I say she’s selfish. She had lots of problems. There were always men banging on the door, asking for money. I told them we’re poor. Because it’s true. Mum couldn’t always afford a meal deal at Tesco, so I’d just have a bread roll with tap water for dinner. I used to pretend it was some fancy dinner when I’d watch ‘Come Dine With Me’. Fancy dinners taste better. I have them now that I live with Aunty Jen. 

Mum told me she had no money, she also told me what to tell the strange men when they came. She never worked but she had enough money for nights out. She’d be gone for hours and hours at a time. Especially Fridays.

She had these tight, short dresses she’d wear, like the ladies in the MTV music videos. Her hair would be at the top of her head and she wore red eyeshadow to match her lipstick. Whenever she’d come back, on the days she actually came back, her lipstick and eyeliner would be smudged. Sometimes she’d wear leggings to hide the bruises on her legs, she didn’t try to hide the ones on her arms. 

My dad has another family somewhere else so I don’t see him. The last time I saw him, my mum took me to his office. It was very cold. It’s strange. I thought rich people could afford heating. Mum couldn’t, so we had extra blankets but she’s poor so she has a reason. Dad isn’t poor. His office building is tall and in the city with glass everywhere. Glass walls and ceilings, glass floors and railings. You can’t hide anything there. It’s like a prison constantly on surveillance. His secretary refused to let us in so mum started screaming. I saw her eyes switch. I’d never seen her scream sober before. I stayed in the waiting room but through the glass cage, I could see them arguing in his office. 

Even though mum’s shorter than him, she looked like a tower from where I sat. Her arms swung and he was just stoic, unmoving and unmoved. They went back and forth for a while. I think it was twenty minutes. I don’t remember. Another woman in a tight black dress that choked her and a tweed jacket came to the office. Her hair was slick into a bun, mum’s hair was wild, untamable snakes.

We left in the end. I didn’t speak to dad at all. He looked at me though. Normally he doesn’t look at me at all. I could see his dense beard and the angles of his brows. He was quite far away though. I just know my brows look like his.

Mum died after a while.

I’m happy.

When I first went to Pillmere Oaks, she would turn up at night and scream at my window. When I moved in with Aunty Jen, she would throw things and the window and when we moved to an apartment complex, closer to school, she would fight the security man. She always wanted money, she came for money. She did not come for me.

I was sitting next to Max when I found out she died.

Mr Hammond called me out of period 3 physics. 

Elasticity. 

The equation says that everything has a limit of elasticity. After you stretch it and pull it and keep going, it will lose its ability to go back to its normal shape. And after that, it will break.

Mum broke.

The odd thing is, Mr Hammond kept offering me tissues and asking if I was ok. Max is the only one that got it. Sometimes things get closer to their limit of elasticity, humans do not have asymptotes, at some point they will get to the limit. And when the limit is reached, breaking is inevitable. So why be surprised?

My eye is itchy. I don’t want to smudge my mascara. Aunty Jen looks so refined when she wears makeup. She is the epitome of sophistication. Her afro is perfectly coiled, not a hair out of place, I can’t decide whether her cheekbones are more raised than her eyebrows, both remind me of the bridge by the park. And her clothes are always black or white. They show her modelesque silhouette, she is so tall and slim, I look out of place next to her. When I moved in, she got me a new wardrobe with clothes from all her favourite designers; on me the clothes look frumpy and boxy. Rachel Jonas said I look like a cardboard box and Hannah Spry said I look like a refrigerator. They’re joking but I think it’s true.

I rub the inner corner of my eye in short brisk movements. I can hear the park door creaking open, he’s here.

“Hey puff puff.”

“Hey Max.”

He puts his hat on my head. It’s still warm from his heat, I can feel it through my braids. 

“Sorry I’m late, I had to finish my homework and I lost track of time.”

“It’s ok, I only just got here,”

Aunty Jen told me that lying is ok and acceptable if it makes the other person feel better. I don’t agree but I have gotten better at lying. I already lie about how I feel, so it’s not that different.

“Ice cream?”

“Sure.”

Prom is coming soon. I wasn’t going to go but Aunty Jen said I should. Rachel Jonas and Hannah Spry said I’m too ugly to go to prom. I know they’re joking so I laugh along and say that;s why I’m not going. Really I am too scared to go. If Max is my date I’ll go. 

We’ve known each other long enough. And we’re friends.

I overestimate my importance. Not generally, just to some people. I think we are friends and then find out we aren’t. It’s not like that with Max though. We’re friends.

He likes me.

I like him.

I like the fact his skin is the same colour as a dairy milk bar. It’s so specific but he is just one colour. Most people are mixed up hues and shades but he is consistent. His hair is even cooler. I asked him if he was mixed when I met him. Aunty Jen said only half casts have hair like Max. It’s so black. It’s liquorice. And it shines and it’s ringlets. Sometimes he wears a headband in PE class to keep it out of his face. I wonder if it’s longer than Aunty Jen's. I haven't measured it but it cascades like a waterfall.

My hair is longer than Aunty Jen’s. It gets down to my bra strap. Before I was fat, it got to my hips but with the added weight it doesn’t go as far. I like it long. I can hide behind it if I want. I normally wear two cornrows but that’s not the point, I could hide behind it if I wanted to.

“What flavour darling?”

“Strawberry please.”

“That’ll be £2.50 in total.”

“I got you puff puff.”

I should play it cool but when Max does things for me I feel jittery inside. It’s like in my chest. Kind of. It feels like I am about to yawn but I can’t. My chest rises but never gets catharsis. 

We walk back to the park. I focus on not tripping over the cobblestones. I tripped once in the corridor outside physics. It actually really hurt. I was walking a little too quickly and my laces were undone. Now I only wear loafers, it’s easier to wear them now that I’m fat and I can’t trip on them. Rachel Jonas laughed at me and Hannah Spry took a video when I fell. I know I should have stood up straight away but it hurt and I felt weak. I hadn’t eaten all day. I know it doesn’t matter, I’m fat enough that my body can go for weeks with no food. I still feel woozy when I don’t eat. Aunty Jen said when exams are done, I can put my energy into losing weight. 

We are going to do a juice cleanse together and then we are going to the French Riviera. She said I have to get my steps up there and if we aren’t walking, I can swim. We are going to spend some time with her friend Philippe. He has a son. His son is bringing friends with him and said I should bring some too; I don’t have any friends apart from Max. 

I think Aunty Jen likes Philippe. She’s been pressing me to do more hours of French tuition and only watches shows dubbed in French these days. I hope I like him. I hope he likes me too.

Aunty Jen said this summer if I don’t lose weight from the walking, swimming and Mediterranean diet, I should take these pills she takes. They make you feel more full. I want them now but I need to get good grades. I want a good job like Aunty Jen. I want to study architecture. I can do art and physics and English for my A-Levels. Now that I’m not poor, I can do what I want. I can live how I like. 

I thought being poor was normal. Aunty Jen says it isn’t. It’s just because my mum was troubled. Honestly I am excited. I don’t have to worry about a student loan. Aunty Jen has lots of money so she can look after me. I want lots of money so I can look after her one day. Plus, my dad is rich, so why shouldn’t I be. 

One day I’ll meet him and he’ll be proud of me. Maybe I’ll even meet my siblings. Aunty Jen doesn’t have kids. She said she never wanted any. She doesn’t even have any pets. She likes being by herself. She used to spend lots of time with Aunty Temi. Now I live with her, she doesn’t spend time with her any more. Aunty Temi is very different. She isn’t glamorous like Aunty Jen. She's rich as well. I think she works in marketing. She wears her hair in a chin length twists and wears the most beautiful suits in vivid colours. My favourite one is cobalt blue. Her skin is the colour of honeycomb, I thought she was mixed but Aunty Jen said some people are just light.

I like my skin. Aunty Jen says I’m espresso brown. I don’t know what that means. I think it’s a compliment. Rachel Jonas and Hannah Spry say I should bathe more and wash off my skin. I know it’s a joke but I tried it before. 

I kept scrubbing.

My skin was raw and grazed after a while.

I have lots of scars on my body but I like my skin.

“Let’s swing.”

“Ok.”

The chain squeaks a few times as I rock back and forth. I don’t want to break it. And my hips are pressed tight against it. I worry I’m stuck, but instead, I focus on his hat. I flip it back and look over at him. He’s been watching me this whole time. He watches me sometimes. He looks at me and sees me. Only Aunty Jen sees me. Aunty Jen and Max. They’re the only ones who have nicknames for me. Consistently. Rachel Jonas and Hannah Spry call me different names on different days. Max said they’re mean but I know they’re only joking.

Max calls me puff puff because my cheeks remind me of them. Aunty Jen calls me Omoba because I am her princess. 

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“I want to ask Rachel to prom. Can you help me surprise her?”

“Rachel Jonas?”

“Yes?”

I hand him his hat, trying not to get it sticky with my strawberry ice cream. It falls to the tarmac floor with a thud. “Sorry Max.” 

He picks it up and I know he sees it. I don’t know if he sees me.