Maizon at Blue Hill by Jacqueline Woodson Read Free Book Online

doing it, and to me, that’s how it’s done!”
    Marie glared at me a moment longer, then stuffed a forkful of peas in her mouth.
    I tore my roll in half, buttered it, and crammed the whole half into my mouth.
    â€œThere’s Pauli,” Sheila said, motioning her head in the direction of the door.
    A black girl was walking briskly toward a table at the far end of the dining hall.
    â€œOreo,” Marie muttered under her breath.
    â€œWhat grade is she in?” I asked hopefully. Pauli looked about my age. Maybe a little older.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” Charli said, rolling her eyes. “Pauli doesn’t hang with sisters.”
    â€œShe’s assimilated,” Marie added, snidely.
    Pauli had thrown her head back and was laughing with the group of white girls sitting at her table. They stared at her adoringly.
    I picked up another piece of chicken with my fingers and dared Marie to say something.
    Charli turned to me. “Pauli really doesn’t hang with us, so it doesn’t matter what grade she’s in.”
    â€œSort of sad,” Sheila added. “She’s way disconnected. Every time Blue Hill does something like a black history month celebration or bringing a black woman up to speak for women’s history month, Pauli never gets involved. It’s like she doesn’t want to face the fact that she’s black.”
    â€œMaybe she’s just not interested in those things,” I suggested.
    Charli raised her shades and crossed her eyes at me. “Maybe she just doesn’t deal.”
    I shrugged. What they were saying made me even more interested in Pauli.
    â€œSpeaking of dealing,” Sheila cut in, “Cadman is having a dance this winter.”
    They all squealed and giggled. Charli blew a kiss at nothing, then laughed.
    â€œCadman’s the boys’ school in the next town, Maizon,” Sheila explained. “Do they have some fine numbers going there!”
    â€œRemember Ron? Brown skinned, brown eyes baby-cakes?” Charli closed her eyes. “Man, could that boy turn a slow dance into a dangerous thing!”
    â€œAnd Curtis, who graduated last year? I’m gonna write him,” Marie added.
    â€œMarie, you already have a college boy. No stockpiling.” Sheila laughed, elbowing Marie.
    I hated the way girls got silly-eyed over boys. I didn’t get it. Something about boys made even the smartest girls seem dumber than tree stumps.
    â€œWe’ll hook you up with someone nice, Maizon,” Charli offered.
    â€œNo interest, Charli.”
    They all looked at me, saying nothing. Then Charli smiled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t have an interest either. Then one day I woke up and boom!—the boys were all right!
    â€œAnyway,” Charli added, rising, “We’re having chocolate cake for dessert.”
    â€œWhat does that have to do with guys?” Marie asked.
    â€œI don’t know.” Charli lifted her glass of milk to her mouth and drained it. “Figured since we’re so smart, maybe we could make some sort of connection.”
    I giggled and forked the last bit of rice into my mouth before handing my empty plate to Charli.
    After dinner, I walked slowly back from the dining hall by myself, wanting to take in Connecticut without anybody else around. A group of girls giggled past me, their Blue Hill jackets draped across their shoulders. One girl turned and waved and I waved back without smiling.
    The sky was the color of ink. Black like my mother’s eyes in the pictures Grandma had on the mantelpiece back home. Stars speckled it with tiny dots of light. I stopped in the middle of the field and clenched my eyes against the tears I knew would come if I let them. The air blowing against my face was cool. I swallowed big gulps of it. There was something I wanted to consume. I was thinking about my father; only, he wasn’t like the man in the picture with Mama. That man