Free I Am the Wallpaper by Mark Peter Hughes Page B

red silk scarf around my neck. I looked at myself in the mirror. The overall effect made a pretty strong impression.
    Azra’s mother wasn’t a parade person but Azra was, so we picked her up at six-thirty in the morning. As soon as she got in the car she gave me that same puzzled look I’d seen at the poetry reading.
    “What’s with the costume?” she asked.
    “It’s not a costume. It’s my new look. Do you like it?”
    “It is? You look like a spy or something, maybe a blues singer.”
    “Or a blind gangster with a cold,” suggested Tish.
    Richard snickered. Ma didn’t say anything—she just kept driving.
    I ignored them all.

    “There he is!” I shouted. “That’s Wen!”
    Azra and I screamed and called out, and my mother and Tish did too. I don’t remember Richard joining in. He was probably off sulking somewhere. The band played some Dixieland song, not a regular marching tune. When Wen was about half a block away, he saw us and waved. Just then, the parade paused, so Azra and I ran over to him.
    “Hey, soldier,” Azra called out. “Love the hat!” Everyone in the band wore blue and white uniforms with shiny black shoes and tall blue helmets that made them look like toy soldiers. I could’ve just rolled the boy up in pita bread and eaten him.
    “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, realizing with disappointment that I’d left my hat and scarf by our blanket. I’d taken them off because of the heat. I tried to see if there was anything different about the way he looked at me, but it was hard to tell with all the confusion around us.
    “How you doing, Floey?” he asked. “Finally cheered back up yet?”
    I shrugged. “Not sure.” I tried to send him a secret smile so he’d know I was thinking about him and me. “Maybe.”
    “Hi, I’m Floey’s cousin Tish!” She was right on my heels. Sometimes having Tish around was kind of like having a dog.
    “Hi, Tish,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
    “So,” I asked him, “are we still on for this afternoon?”
    “I think so. My dad made some plans, though. I might be late.”
    I was disappointed, but only a little. As it turned out, Azra had said she wasn’t coming to our block party after all because her mother decided at the last minute to throw a barbecue with their own neighbors. Azra had invited my mother, my cousins and me to her house after the parade but fortunately Ma said no. This meant, I’d realized with secret excitement, that if Wen came I was going to have him all to myself.
    “Well,” I said. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”
    And that was all the time we had, because the band started playing again and Wen had to step back in line. He and the rest of the band did a hilarious dance where they marched in place and then side to side and then turned around and did it again. The crowd went wild. So did we.
    After they marched away, Tish asked, “That’s the boy from the picture, isn’t he? Are you
sure
he’s not your boyfriend?”
    “Who, Wen? No.” I glanced at Azra, but I don’t think she was listening. “We’re just friends, that’s all. I already told you I don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “Oh,” Tish said. “He’s
soooo
cute! He’s
adorable!
”
    We walked back to our blanket.
    I couldn’t even look at Azra.
    Friday, July 4, 11:00 p.m.
    Dear Florence,
    Wen didn’t show up.
    I spent the whole barbecue waiting on our top steps so I could listen for the phone. I left a couple of messages on his machine but he never even called back. While I waited, every front yard on my street was full of people. Everyone had fun except me.
    Wen better have a good excuse. I hope for his sake that he was kidnapped by aliens.
    Richard’s little friends made the day even worse. First, they kept peering over at me from Billy’s yard. It’s really starting to bug me. In a world where hardly anybody notices me, why do these little boys find me so fascinating? Then later, Richard and Billy nearly blew me up with a