Excerpt
andlt;bandgt;andlt;BRandgt;andlt;bandgt;1andlt;BRandgt;andlt;iandgt;What Would Rita Hayworth Do?andlt;/iandgt;andlt;/bandgt;andlt;/bandgt;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;andlt;iandgt;A slow fade-in on my life:andlt;/iandgt;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Thereand#8217;s this little mountain town, smack between two long highways that go nowhere in either direction. Thereand#8217;s the one supermarket, the one movie theater, the one Chinese restaurant. But there are twelve different places to buy junk for your lawn.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Itand#8217;s summer so the days are longer than you can stand. If you want air-conditioning, walk to the convenience store on the corner and take your time searching for an ice pop.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Thereand#8217;s this girl. Sheand#8217;s thirteen, but if I say sheand#8217;s going on fourteen it might sound better. Sheand#8217;s nobody really. You probably wouldnand#8217;t notice her if I didnand#8217;t point her out. Sheand#8217;s got brown hair to her chin, and bangs that need cutting, and when she reads she has to wear glasses. Today sheand#8217;s got on a tank top that says SUPERSTAR, but thatand#8217;s a big lie so go ahead and ignore it.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Sheand#8217;s sitting up on the roof of her house, because thatand#8217;s the only place where she gets cell phone reception. She checks her phone, finds no messages, not even a text. A truck drives by, doesnand#8217;t honk. A mosquito sticks its fang in her knee, she smashes it.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Are you asleep yet?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Sheand#8217;s me, Iand#8217;m her. And weand#8217;re both bored to the gills.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;If this were a movie, I wouldand#8217;ve walked out by now.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;So letand#8217;s cut to black. Roll the credits. Drop the curtain, if this place even has a curtain. Kick the slimy dregs of popcorn under the seat and head home.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Except that would be too soon. Becauseand#8212;just like a movieand#8212;thereand#8217;s about to be some big drama when you least expect it. Mine begins when my mom pops her head out the upstairs bathroom window.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Her eyes are puffyand#8212;I see this first. Not a good sign.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Danielle,and#8221; she calls. and#8220;Come inside so we can talk before you go.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;I canand#8217;t,and#8221; I say. and#8220;Iand#8217;m sunbathing.and#8221; Notice Iand#8217;m flat-out ignoring the fact that she said Iand#8217;m going anywhere. This is because Iand#8217;m not. Going, that is. Iand#8217;m staying right here.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Sunbathing? Itand#8217;s four thirty in the afternoon and youand#8217;re in the shade. You havenand#8217;t even started packing yet. Donand#8217;t tell me youand#8217;re out there waiting for Maya to calland#8230;.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Mayaand#8212;sheand#8217;s my best friend. Or she used to be. We met the second day in seventh grade: Fourth-period gym, she held my ankles for sit-ups, I held hers. She was from Willow Elementary and I was from Shanosha Elementary, but soon it was like weand#8217;d known each other forever, like her ankles were my ankles and mine were hers. We were inseparable. But ever since she moved an hour-and-a-half away to Poughkeepsie three months ago, she forgot about all that. Sheand#8217;s never on iChat anymore and she never calls.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;So what if Iand#8217;m up on the roof waiting for her to call? Or for anyone to call. Even my big brother, Casey, whoand#8217;s away at soccer campand#8212;I wouldnand#8217;t want to talk to him anyway. If he called maybe Iand#8217;d pick up and say thanks for leaving me here all by myself to rot, and then Iand#8217;d hang up on him. But Mom doesnand#8217;t have to know all that.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Come inside,and#8221; she says. and#8220;We need to talk.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Talk to me out here,and#8221; I say. and#8220;I can hear you just fine.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;All right. If you wonand#8217;t come insideand#8230;and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I wait.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;She waits.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The mosquitoes hover.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Itand#8217;s a battle of the wills and I win. Itand#8217;s at this moment that she asks the dumbest question ever: and#8220;Dani, do you need help packing your socks?and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Socks! In summer! and#8220;Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, really?and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Her voice tightens. and#8220;No.and#8221; But she doesnand#8217;t say what else it could be. She just says, and#8220;You should get packing. Your fatherand#8217;s on his way here.and#8221; Her face gets all crumply as she admits this.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Obviously sheand#8217;s trying to keep from crying. It must be because she just talked to him on the phone. This happens every time he calls: She gets bright pink, her eyes go leaky, and then she holes up in her room.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Sheand#8217;s been like this ever since Dad left. Most of the time, like at the newspaper in town where she works, sheand#8217;s a perfectly normal person you wouldnand#8217;t feel mortified to be seen with. But when sheand#8217;s home with me, sheand#8217;s this other person. Sheand#8217;s not my mom anymore but a wobbly pink-headed impostor walking around blowing her nose and pretending sheand#8217;s my mom. I donand#8217;t know how to act when sheand#8217;s like this. It makes me say things maybe I shouldnand#8217;t.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Like now. She says, and#8220;Come inside, Dani. Please? Your dadand#8217;s almost here.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;And what I could say is andlt;iandgt;Okay.andlt;/iandgt; I could cut her some slack, you know I should. But instead I say, and#8220;And that has to do with me becauseand#8230;and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;But Iand#8217;m allowed to be sarcastic. Iand#8217;m at a and#8220;difficultand#8221; age, in a and#8220;difficultand#8221; situation, and youand#8217;re a liar if you think you wouldnand#8217;t milk it.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Because I told you. Heand#8217;s on his way to pick you up right now. You knew this was his weekend. Stop stalling.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;This is when the scene goes dark and the music gets loud and, I donand#8217;t know, thunder crashes in the sky over my head or something. This is when youand#8217;d see a close-up of a mouth and hear the scream.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Because Iand#8217;ve been telling her and telling her that Iand#8217;m andlt;iandgt;not going.andlt;/iandgt; Iand#8217;ve told her like twenty million times. I havenand#8217;t packed a single thing for the trip and Iand#8217;m sitting out here on the roof pretending to get a tan but really catching malaria from all the mosquitoes and does this look like Iand#8217;m going somewhere, does it?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;They canand#8217;t make me go.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Someone will have to drag me kicking and screaming down the driveway, and if the kicking and the screaming donand#8217;t work Iand#8217;ll just do one of those nonviolent protests where you play dead so youand#8217;re as heavy as possible, like a sack of bricks.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Iand#8217;ll make myself like bricks just how Gandhi used to do. At least, I think that was Gandhi, or maybe he was the guy who didnand#8217;t eat. Anyway, if I have to, Iand#8217;ll pretend to be Gandhi, and who could possibly force me in my dadand#8217;s car then?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;My mom ducks down to grab a tissue. Then her head pops back up, and thatand#8217;s all I see of her, her head, bobbing there like a hot-pink balloon.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;She bats her eyes to keep from crying, except all it does is make her nose drip more. Sheand#8217;s a wreck. Just listen to her:andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Danielle, you have to go.and#8221; andlt;iandgt;Sniffle.andlt;/iandgt; and#8220;Even if itand#8217;s not what andlt;iandgt;Iandlt;/iandgt; want, you know the judge saidand#8230;and#8221; andlt;iandgt;Sniffle.andlt;/iandgt; and#8220;I know your dad moved in with thatand#8221;and#8212;she stops herselfand#8212;and#8220;with Cheryl, but thatand#8217;s where he lives now.and#8221; andlt;iandgt;Sniffle.andlt;/iandgt; and#8220;Dani, canand#8217;t you understand? You have to go. Itand#8217;s andlt;iandgt;the law.andlt;/iandgt;and#8230;and#8221; (Here a loud, wet honk as she blows her nose.)andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The way sheand#8217;s talking makes me think that what she really wants is for me to andlt;iandgt;notandlt;/iandgt; pack my socks, to not go.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Then she leaves the window and heads out of sightand#8212;I figure to lock herself in her room and soak her pillow. I can make fun of how often my mom cries, but thatand#8217;s because I picked her. In the Cooper-Callanzano divorce of this past winter, let the record show that I chose my momand#8217;s side.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Now that my mom has given up, now that no one cares and no oneand#8217;s looking, it gets a little boring out here on the roof. Another truck drives by, doesnand#8217;t honk. I swat away one last mosquito and climb through the window back into my room.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I take a seat on my bed. My mom put my suitcase thereand#8212;itand#8217;s open, empty, waiting for me to shove it full of stuff to take with me. I look at it, and Iand#8217;ve lost all the bars on my cell phone, and no oneand#8217;s calling anyway, and I ask myself the only question worth asking: What would Rita Hayworth do?andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Rita Hayworth was this old Hollywood movie starand#8212;all glamour and mystery like in those black-and-white movies people like to call and#8220;films.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Most kids my age have no clue who she is. When they think of a big movie star they think of someone like Jessica Alba. But if Jessica and Rita Hayworth were in the same scene and the cameras were rolling youand#8217;d forget Jessica was even there. And thatand#8217;s not to dis Jessica Alba.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;All Iand#8217;m saying is Rita Hayworth was andlt;iandgt;something.andlt;/iandgt; Say there was this movie and both Rita Hayworth and Jessica Alba were in it. Jessica would say her lines and sheand#8217;d be great like usual, but then it would be Rita Hayworthand#8217;s turn.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Rita Hayworth would toss her hair (red in real life, but in black-and-white it could be any color). Sheand#8217;d blink super slow, like she was underwater. Then sheand#8217;d turn, finally, and settle her eyes on Jessica. It would take a few seconds but feel like forever and you wouldnand#8217;t be able to stop staring. Then Rita Hayworth would say maybe one word, drawing it out, making it sound like the most beautiful word anyone could say, like, in any language, ever. The word could be and#8220;hiand#8221; or and#8220;mayonnaise,and#8221; it doesnand#8217;t matter. And before you know it, Rita Hayworth will have eaten Jessica Alba alive.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Thatand#8217;s why I think of her. Rita Hayworth wouldnand#8217;t let anyone push her around, not even Mom and Dad. Sheand#8217;d do what andlt;iandgt;sheandlt;/iandgt; wanted, and no sorrys after.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Rita Hayworth could hide her emotions down where youand#8217;d never find them. Sheand#8217;d make you think she didnand#8217;t care when, really, she cared more than anything. And if someone told her to go someplaceand#8212;because andlt;iandgt;itand#8217;s the lawandlt;/iandgt; and andlt;iandgt;the state of New York says soandlt;/iandgt;and#8212;what sheand#8217;d do is wait till you werenand#8217;t looking, and then sheand#8217;d leave for someplace else.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;So I decide to make things a little more difficult. Not for myselfand#8212;for my dad.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Cue the daydream sequence: Dadand#8217;s car pulls in. He honks from the driveway because he doesnand#8217;t want to come into the house. He waits and waits and his carand#8217;s leaking oil and heand#8217;s all spazzy under the seat belt because heand#8217;s got that bad backand#8212;but I still donand#8217;t come out of the house. I never come out because Iand#8217;m not home. Itand#8217;s the first court-ordered visitation and Iand#8217;m not here to go. Thatand#8217;ll show him.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Cut back to real life, and Iand#8217;m still sitting in my bedroom. Dad hasnand#8217;t made his way here yet. What I have to do is find a way out before he does.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;If this were a movie, Iand#8217;d jump out the window. A good enough plan, I guess. But if this were an andlt;iandgt;oldandlt;/iandgt; movieand#8212;like from the 1940s before all that color, the kind of movie called a and#8220;film,and#8221; one where youand#8217;d find someone like Rita Hayworthand#8212;I wouldnand#8217;t even have to jump.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Itand#8217;d be nighttime, of course, not 4:42 in the afternoon. Thereand#8217;d be this killer bright light coming in from the window, but in it youand#8217;d see only half my face. Itand#8217;s more cinematic that way. My hairand#8217;s darkand#8212;no other word to call it but brownand#8212;but in this movie it would be pitch-black. It would shine. And I wouldnand#8217;t be wearing shortsand#8212;Iand#8217;d have on some long, sparkly dress. Ohand#8212;and heels like the spiky ones my mom keeps in the back of her closet even though they hurt her ankles and who knows why she still has them. Plus a hat. Iand#8217;d have to wear a hat. Back then, girls always wore hats.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The room would be dark and youand#8217;d get a tight close-up of just my face. Thatand#8217;s when Iand#8217;d do this whole series of expressions with my eyes.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Youand#8217;d see fear.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Joy.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Rage.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Bliss.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Misery.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Passion.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Plus lots more stuff I donand#8217;t even know the words to.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Then Iand#8217;d take a few steps out of frame and the shadows would swallow me. And no one would be able to find me after that.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;But this is no movie and Iand#8217;m just me, Dani Callanzano, not the kind of name youand#8217;d see on a marquee. Itand#8217;s a summer afternoon in upstate New York and Iand#8217;m thirteen-going-on-fourteen wearing plain shorts and a tank top and platform sneakers. Iand#8217;ve got a cell phone with no bars, an empty suitcase on my bed, and a bug bite on my knee that I canand#8217;t stop scratching.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;So I donand#8217;t jump out the window. I take the stairs and walk out the back door. Iand#8217;m not about to let the scene fade out on meand#8212;not now, and not without a fight.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;And for that, Iand#8217;d like to thank Rita Hayworth.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#169; 2009 Nova Ren Suma