My new goal for Ma’s class is to cover an entire loose-leaf page with tiny rosebuds. I begin in the left-hand corner. By the time the bell rings, I’ve done two whole lines
Oh, my heavens. I’m suddenly very aware of my hands, and my shoes. I must take off my shoes. I slip them off, then slip them back on. Off. Then on.
Ma is sitting at her desk, smiling around the room. Am I the only one who feels the tension? Oh gosh, why is she smiling so much? Does she always smile so much? Have I never noticed? Or is this just for my class, to ensure I’m as uncomfortable as possible?
I spontaneously decide on zero eye contact. I keep my head down, my ponytail half over my face. Debbi nudges me; I ignore her. Ma takes out her roll book. Oh, here we go. This is it.
Bryna Adams.
Shaina Berman.
Each name, crisply pronounced, words enunciated and sharp, makes me cringe, until I’m basically vibrating.
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