May 1991

 

I told Ms. Murray that I had to meet a friend for lunch in Evanston and she said, "Go. Don't tell me." Lisa and I were hanging out on her back porch when we heard a woman wailing. She was running down the alley naked and screaming about a fire. When the police came they wrapped her in a sheet and laughed at her. They said that her apartment's been on fire three times in two weeks. She was obviously crazy. It was sad. Then Lisa talked to a couple of teenagers from the block about the goings-on of the neighborhood. I wish I could do that, but I've never lived in one place long enough. Lisa wants a boyfriend. I understand.

Got my first paycheck and bought art supplies.

There's an Assyrian girl at school whose name is Nahrin. She's really cool. We've gotten close. There's a guy that likes her but he's pushy. Nahrin's straight from Iraq, she's not gonna be like, "Yeah, baby. Let's go." But he doesn't get that. He's American. Nahrin and I will talk about him in Assyrian with him right there, and laugh.

Dad was mugged by his passengers. He doesn't normally pick up black people but this time someone got in right after another passenger left the cab. Along the way dad was suspicious, so he kicked his wallet under his seat. They only got away with a $130. They never got the $800 that was under the seat. They didn't hurt him. It makes me so angry, though. I hope dad does something else for a living.

I was a at party and overheard some kids talk about their teacher. It was Santi they were talking about. They were saying how weird he is and that he must smoke pot. He doesn't, or at least I don't think he does. It was funny.

Kelly and I are sentimental and stressed out because it's the end of the school year and everything is happening so fast!

Graduation rehearsal was hell. People were rude. I was called a fag. Driving home I was mad, but said to myself, 'Emil, use this to be stronger. Love yourself.' I felt much better. Got into an argument with Lisa about our friendship. I got frustrated and yelled. Lisa cried. I realize now that I'm no angel anymore. This is not sophomore year. I am not innocent. She hung up. I called back. We worked it out. We went to a bookstore and there amidst the lights, the books, and the people I realized that a dream had come true, that my childhood prayers to come to America had been answered. I also knew that now that I'm here I am wanting to leave. It's amazing how you don't see what you have even if it's right there in front of you.

I take tests at school. Santi walks by in the halls. Desiree doesn't speak to me. Teachers let me leave early. Things become packed into my brain. Life goes by fast. I escape by tripping with friends. It rains. We get wet. Kelly and I talk about boys at stolen moments. We laugh. It's nice to be so far from reality.

Drank and smoked dope.

Worked.

Marcelo was at the awards ceremony. He's back from Boston because he fucked up there, drinking too much, or something. I got awards for Art, Chorus, alumni volunteer, and "B" honor roll. Afterward, Kelly and I went to a park and I got high. When I was a child in Iran I would've never expected such a life. The sentimentality hurts. Both Kelly and I feel it. Deeply. We know that these are the last few days of a special stage of our lives.

Prom sucked.

The last full day of school. Took a shower and listened to music as I have thousands of times before. A strange sad feeling. All year you want school to end and then when it's about to all this sorrow comes up. Studied for exams.

Exams. "Charlotte Sometimes" and I exchanged our very last notes ever. Cheated from cheat sheets tucked into my calculator. Drove Santi out to Elmhurst for a job interview. On the way we talked about guys and sex. I kept getting a hard-on. I wanted him in the most immature sleazy way. I wanted to make love to him, not just sex. He said that he's sexually active, does not have anal sex, but does "other things". I dropped him off and waited for him. Read. Smoked cigarettes. It started to rain. Thunder and lightening. Romance. We had dinner at some diner out there. Talked about things I haven't been able to share with anyone else. I wanted to cry I was so happy and inspired. Horny. And although I felt I made no sense he seemed to understand what I was saying. I loved him then. He seemed fascinated. He said that I would be someone "suave" someday. That didn't impress me. Suave? He was encouraging. Driving home he rubbed my neck and those few seconds that he touched me felt like an eternity of ecstasy. He said he wanted me but wanted to wait until I'm eighteen.

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