Borderline Read Online Free PDF Page A

was little. But it feels even weirder when Mom steps out the door.
    She’s wearing her head scarf! Her green silk hijab! She never wears it in public except at mosque. Why now? I don’t have to ask. It’s about Dad and last night and the weekend. As we drive down our street, I slide lower and lower in my seat.
    Mom reads my mind like I read hers. “Sami, it’s just a scarf.”
    â€œTell that to the guys. They don’t understand head covering.”
    â€œRight,” she says. “In their caps and hoodies.”
    We turn out of our neighborhood onto Oxford Drive. Ride past Meadowvale Plaza, construction, box stores, make a left onto Valley Park Road.
    I see Academy Hill in the distance. Allah, God, kill me now.
    â€œPlease, Mom. Take it off before we get there?”
    â€œI can’t, Sami,” she says. “Not today.”
    â€œThen let me out. I’ll walk from here.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œReally, Mom. I get razzed enough. You don’t know what it’s like.”
    â€œOh, don’t I?”
    But she pulls over. Puts on her flashers. Stares straight ahead as I grab my stuff from the back seat. It’s like I’m an ax murderer.
    â€œMom,” I say, “it’s not my fault you feel guilty.”
    â€œAnd it’s not my fault you’re ashamed to be you.”
    â€œYou sound like Dad.”
    â€œWhat if I do?”
    Cars are backing up behind us. Somebody honks.
    â€œWe’re holding up traffic,” Mom says. She tries to smile. “Have a nice weekend.” And she drives off.
    I make my way to the Academy’s front gate and head along Roosevelt Trail toward the school. Maybe itwas a trail in the old days. Now it’s a paved road lined by a trimmed boxwood hedge. An Olympic-sized track surrounds the football field on the left; the principal’s residence, field house, and three baseball diamonds are on the right. I catch my breath at the foot of Academy Hill. At the top, a statue of Teddy Roosevelt on a charging horse stands guard between the Middle School and the Upper School. The horse has the biggest balls in the world. Last Halloween, somebody painted them bright blue. We laughed ourselves sick watching them get scrubbed. Vice Principal McGregor had this big assembly about how it wasn’t funny. That made us laugh even more.
    Despite the blue balls prank, the Academy has this rep as one of the best private boys’ schools in upstate New York. When it started in the mid 1900s, there was nothing around but cows and country, and kids got shipped here for the term. Now it’s surrounded by urban sprawl, and half of us are day boys. According to the brochure, it’s got everything except girls. Which is exactly why Dad stuck me here. Thank you, Mary Louise Prescott.
    Mary Louise sat across from me in eighth grade at Meadowvale Middle School. Her mother was the parent volunteer for this after-school group called Living with Joy; Mary Louise was secretary-treasurer. It was basicallya Christian club with donuts, Coke, and tambourines.
    Anyway, Mary Louise started smiling at me in class, and at lunch she had this magic way of always being around whenever Andy and Marty were distracted by some girl, which in Andy’s case was practically always. Mary Louise wore puffy sweaters, and smelled of peaches and starch. I didn’t mind. She shared her chocolate bars with me.
    But that’s not all she wanted to share. One day she gets me alone at the edge of the tarmac, all serious like somebody’s died. She says she hasn’t slept for weeks and really needs to talk to me.
    I go, “Sure.”
    And she takes a deep breath and says, “Sammy, I have to tell you about Jesus.”
    â€œI already know about him.” I shrug. “He’s one of our prophets.”
    â€œNo!” She shakes her head. “He’s not just a prophet. He’s the Savior.”
    I’m like, “Okay. Fine.