Page 14 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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So, who you gonna believe,

your cousin or some girl you met in the park

and you’ve only known for six weeks?

I’ve been at school with Jyoti for years,

and all she does is chat nonsense.”

I feel bad for calling Jyoti “some girl”

because it sounds kinda dismissive,

but I’m trying to speak T’s language.

T closes his eyes, tilts his head back,

and pinches the bridge of his nose.

T breathes in deeply and out again.

T does this when he’s about to punch someone:

sometimes justifiably,

sometimes just for fun.

I refuse to believe T would punch me.

The Devil himself couldn’t convince me

T doesn’t love me.

T would love me no matter what.

When T looks at me again, he’s smiling.

“Fine, cuz. If you say Jyoti’s lying, she’s lying.”

I look for malice in his smile,

I listen for another meaning in what he’s saying,

but I see and hear only love:

love that defies logic, the love of family.

I knew he would choose to believe me over Jyoti.

I hear Granny’s keys in the front door,

the sound of Olivia and Sophia

bounding over the threshold,

the Velcro of their school shoes,

the patter of their frilly-socked feet

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