THIS SIDE OF
HOME RENﾃ右 WATSON
Copyright © 2015 by Renée Watson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. First published in the United States of America in February 2015 by Bloomsbury Children’s Books www.bloomsbury.com Bloomsbury is a registered trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 1385 Broadway, New York, New York 10018 Bloomsbury books may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at specialmarkets@macmillan.com Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Watson, Renée. This side of home / by Renée Watson. pages cm Summary: Twins Nikki and Maya Younger always agreed on most things, but as they head into their se nior year they react differently to the gentrification of their Portland, Oregon, neighborhood and the new—white—family that moves in after their best friend and her mother are evicted. ISBN 978-1- 59990- 668-3 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-1- 61963-213- 4 (e-book) [1. Twins—Fiction. 2. Sisters—Fiction. 3. Best friends—Fiction. 4. Friendship— Fiction. 5. Neighborhoods—Fiction. 6. Urban renewal—Fiction. 7. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 8. Portland (Ore.)—Fiction.] I. Title. PZ7.W32868Thi 2015 [Fic]—dc23 2014013743 Book design by Amanda Bartlett Typeset by Westchester Book Composition Printed and bound in the U.S.A. by Thomson- Shore Inc., Dexter, Michigan 2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1 All papers used by Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc., are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in well-managed forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
CHAPTER 14
I’m sitting on my bed painting my nails and listening to music when Nikki barges in. “Can I borrow your earrings?” she asks as she puts one of my silver hoops into her left ear. I don’t even bother to answer. “We’re all going to Last Thursday. You want to come?” Why does she even bother to ask? If I have no interest in going to shops on Jackson Avenue during regular business hours, what makes her think that I’d want to go for Last Thursday, when they have sidewalk sales down the whole street and close off the blocks to cars? “No,” I answer. “I’m going with Essence to the center to help Dad make registration packets for fall enrollment.”
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“It’s going to be fun, Maya. You can’t waste your whole summer volunteering with Dad.” “I’ve had fun this summer. You just haven’t been there.” That probably came out wrong, but I keep talking. “Essence and I went to the movies yesterday, and I’m going to Seaside this weekend with her and her cousins.” “Well, you should come just for the people watching alone. It’s hilarious sometimes: what people have on, their crazy hair. Last month we saw someone walking his pet pig—on an actual leash.” Nikki laughs at the memory. I don’t say anything. Nikki interprets my silence. “Why don’t you like Kate?” “I never said I didn’t like her.” “Well, you’re always giving her attitude—” “Well, she’s always asking me questions and making offensive comments. You know, kind of like how you feel about Essence’s cousins.” “Oh, come on, Maya. So just because I didn’t go with you to Essence’s party, you’re not going to come with me?” “You weren’t coming with me. Essence invited you. We’re both her best friends. Or at least we used to be.” “Look, this isn’t about Kate or Essence,” Nikki
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says. “You should come out to get to know our neighborhood. Some of these places have been here for— what?—four years now, and you’ve never set foot in them. For someone who loves her community so much, you sure don’t support it.” “Nikki, those places aren’t here for us. You know that, right?” I get off my bed and stand at the window. I can see Essence’s house, all new and fancy with its flowerpots hanging above the banister. And I think about all the new places around the corner. “I mean, really, a Doggie Daycare? How many of our friends’ parents can afford daycare for their children, let alone their pets?” Nikki just lets out a sigh and walks away, back across the hall to her room. I follow her. She started this conversation. She can’t just walk away. Before I say another word, she says, “Okay, Maya. I get it. Just drop it. You don’t want a nice, clean neighborhood. You’d rather drive all the way downtown for a good restaurant or get on the bus to go to the mall. You don’t want—” “Are you serious right now? Did I say I didn’t want those things?” “Well, that’s how you’re acting.” “I want things to be fair. And something is not
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fair when black men and women are turned down for business loans over and over again, but others aren’t.” “Maybe they just didn’t qualify, Maya. Have you ever even considered that?” “I would believe that if it was just here, in Portland. But Grandma says the same type of thing happened in Atlanta, and Dad was just talking about his friend in New York who said it’s happened in Brooklyn and Harlem. That can’t be coincidence. There is something—something that has allowed this to be normal, that poor communities get remade and their people are forced to move. Have you ever seen it the other way around? Ever?” Nikki has no answer for this, so she just ignores me and keeps getting ready. I go into my room, close the door. My nail polish is smudged now, and I’ll have to take it off and start over. I hear her as she leaves. Hear her run down the steps, hear the door shut, hear the gate clink after she closes it. I get back up and stand at the window. Nikki walks across the street to Kate’s house and rings the doorbell. When Kate comes to the door they hug like they’ve been friends for more than a few weeks. I sit back on my bed and start regretting the way I spoke to Nikki. I know it seems ridiculous for me
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not to want to shop on Jackson Avenue. Of course I like the fact that just around the corner there are all kinds of places I would have never even thought of. Like the store where you can make your own stationery or the restaurant that has only grilled cheese sandwiches on the menu—any kind of cheese you can think of, they have it. I like the fact that I can walk home in the dark from the bus stop and not feel the need to look over my shoulder, because for some reason it just feels more safe. But for all the things I like, I can’t help but wonder why the changes we’ve always wanted in this community had to come from other people and not us. I don’t understand why Nikki doesn’t get that, why she doesn’t get me.