Towelhead by Alicia Erian Page B

Thomas offered to clear my tray, and I said okay. He piled my plate and silverware and milk carton onto his tray, then stacked my empty tray beneath it. “I’ll be right back,” he said, which I guessed meant I was supposed to wait for him, so I did. When he returned, he said, “Okay, ready,” and we walked to his locker together. He asked me if I needed to go to mine, and I lied and said I did. It was just nice, having someone to do things with.
    Later, when I was bored in Social Studies, I tried to have an orgasm by thinking about Thomas, but it wouldn’t work. Not like when I thought about Mr. Vuoso touching my breast, or when I imagined a man photographer taking my picture. So I gave up and started thinking about those things instead. I thought I was very lucky to have a system like this. To be able to test out different people and decide if I really loved them.
    At the Vuosos’ that afternoon, I checked the tampons on the back of the toilet seat, just in case Mrs. Vuoso had given up on trying to catch me. She hadn’t. It was still just the four. I went downstairs then and told Zack I needed to go next door for a second. “No way!” he said, muting the TV. “There aren’t any birdies over there.”
    â€œIt’s not that,” I said. “I need to find out Melina’s last name.”
    â€œWhy?” he said.
    â€œBecause,” I said, “I’m not allowed to call her Melina anymore. My father won’t let me.”
    Zack didn’t say anything.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” I said. “Okay?”
    He turned away and unmuted the TV.
    When Melina opened the door, I said, “I can’t stay very long. I just need to ask you something.”
    â€œShoot,” she said, walking back inside the house.
    I followed her into the living room, where she was unpacking a box of books onto a tall wooden shelf. I noticed that some of them had Arabic writing on the spine. “I need to know your last name,” I said.
    â€œSure. It’s Hines. Why?”
    â€œBecause,” I said, “I’m not allowed to call you Melina anymore.”
    â€œOh yeah?”
    I nodded. “It’s Daddy’s rule.”
    â€œWow,” she said. “He sure has a lot of rules.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œWell, maybe you could just call me Melina when he’s not around.”
    â€œOkay,” I said.
    â€œGreat,” she said.
    â€œMelina?” I asked.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIf I gave you some of my babysitting money, would you be able to buy me some tampons?”
    She was quiet for a second. “Well, I don’t know about that, Jasira.”
    â€œWhy not?” I asked.
    â€œI guess I don’t feel comfortable going against your father.”
    â€œBut you just said I could call you Melina when he wasn’t around.”
    She sighed. “Oh boy.”
    â€œI don’t see why I can’t wear tampons,” I said. “They fit me fine.”
    â€œCan’t you talk to your mother about this?” Melina asked.
    I shook my head. “No.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause,” I said, “she just tells me to listen to Daddy.”
    â€œIs she Lebanese, too?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “Irish.”
    â€œWow,” Melina said. “What a mix you are.”
    It bothered me, how she was trying to talk about my nationalities now, instead of tampons. “I better go,” I said finally.
    â€œAre you sure?” she said.
    â€œYes,” I said. “I’m not supposed to leave Zack alone.”
    â€œI’m really sorry, Jasira. I wish I could help you. I really do. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
    â€œThanks,” I said, and I left.
    I felt really angry with her on the way back to Zack’s. It was like she had tricked me or something. Like she had said all that stuff about Daddy’s rules being weird, but then it