Black Girl World

Chapter 1

Spring 2017

Giovanna and I had spent a good portion of our day wandering Downtown, leisurely shopping, snacking, and idly chatting about miscellaneous things. Initially, we were meant to spend the day cleaning our apartment, but, since it was our only weekday free together and I needed to come to the city; Gia found a reason to shop-- and   I was more than happy to tag along.

Around seven we manage to make our way towards the Art Institute. Conveniently, I had this art project that I had been blowing off for most ( if not all of the)  semester and Giovanna, being the art enthusiast and annoying best friend that she is, volunteered to tag along with me, forcing me to complete the project and to deal with the after work foot traffic.

Initially I'd been hesitant to agree, lying with the intention of completing the project a week before its due date. However, when she promised to buy me a cup of tea, I was in.

The issue wasn't that I didn't want to do it-- I did, but the issue was that my anxiety wouldn't allow me to do it alone. And I didn't want to ask someone to go with me; I'm not a child after all. Things like this were just better if avoided, or until I couldn't avoid it anymore.  That and my art history course was my least favorite course. Magically, Gia happened to be an Art History Major with a minor in philosophy-- cheesy but I guess necessary.

Don't get me wrong- I love Giovanna but I needed my alone time, especially when it came to art. My good sis was a talker who enjoyed discussing things to the bone, no matter how trivial the topic was. I was a thinker; most of my day was spent in my head and the rest of the time was spent in confusion. Gia didn't allow that-- my sulking  was usually not tolerated or accepted; hell most of the time she did a good job of distracting me from myself. But that was just most of the time.

In this case, when it came to the avoided school work, I needed to zone out and get into my head, for the sake of my grade. Somehow I'd been blowing off this class and still passing with a 82. High school me would detest this grade, college me could care less-- BUT the invitation of 10 extra credit points motivated me to do the walk through and to write the extensive paper that was due three weeks from now.

Giovanna, being the maddening, art history major she was , elected herself to be my tour guide.. Although I preferred silence-- more so the ability to ponder and overthink the nature of things. Gia wanted to discuss and theorize and wonder and contemplate; my brain was too busy for all that. Given the opportunity I'd overthink and underthink everything.

Because I had waited so late, I was faced with the issue of going on Wednesday after 5 in the evening. Wednesday, which also happened the day the museum was open for the general public for free. Somehow, there was always a throng of people who crowded the streets, none of which were actually from the Chicagoland area. It was always a bunch of suburbanites who just idly stood around and took up space. And it always agitated me beyond comprehension. I could never grasp the idea that people would willingly come into the city in the middle of a work week, just to walk around and gawk at the buildings.

Giovanna and I had managed to get into the museum right before it began to crowd with people. Behind us a group of high school kids in matching uniform shirts and khakis walk in bursting into laughter. Gia rolls her eyes when she notices their shirts-- prep school kids. I side eye them out of habit,-- they're oblivious to our disdain.

After handing over our bags and receiving out tickets, we wander to the main area. I have no idea where to start.

"How about we go to the photography exhibit?" Giovanna suggested optimistically guiding me, I stare blankly at the glass doors that read "PROVOKE" in bold, black letters. This better provoke me not to fall asleep, I think to myself sardonically.

"Deia." Giovanna says in a very monotonous tone. She's already grown tired of my mood swings. If I could cut it off I would, but I can't. Hell if I could therapize my way out it I could, but my therapist and I are barely scratching the surface, we hadn't even covered my childhood yet.

"Sure," I drawl sarcastically. We wander mindlessly through the exhibit, Giovanna stopping here and there to take photos and to read the information cards. She let me space out, as I followed along behind her in a hazy state. Once we reached the upper level, I perk up, eager to separate and dive into the next exhibit. The dark room is filled with small portraits and dim lighting. Nearly no one is in the exhibits, as a piece of clothing with blue writing catches my eye.

"Let's go into the Calligraphy exhibit?" I offer optimistically. Drifting towards the entrance, I look back at Giovanna who is staring obliviously at her phone. Momentarily I stare at her, studying her intensely.    It must be her new boyfriend texting her. Or her line sisters complaining about her little. The crease between her eyebrows, and the stare that her dark eyes fixated intensely on her phone tell me that much. I briefly note how she never wears her glasses, even though she can barely see. She pursues her lips before looking up at me blankly. Nope, it's the boyfriend.

"What?" She mutters brilliantly before tucking her phone into her pocket and looking at me as if nothing happened. I shake my head and enter into the exhibit opting to ignore her and whatever is happening on her phone. Looking back I shout out "I'm going in here for a bit". She nods a halfhearted response before slumping down on a bench by the door and begins  furiously typing on her phone.

That man can not be that good to be that stressful, I think as I begin to slowly work my way through the gallery.

I quickly forget about Giovanna and her scowling face as I spot the blue printed writing. I drift towards it and shake my head. The image is difficult to read  yet, oddly satisfying to look at. I take pictures and jot down notes one my phone with each image I like. I move around the gallery, remembering to find an image I dislike. . After a while of idle walking and unable to find any 'bad' art,  I walk out to find Gia. Since she's nowhere to be found, I travel to the African exhibit, jotting down more notes and capturing familiar images.  Halfway through the exhibit my phone dies and shortly after, Giovanna walks into the gallery with a huff.

"I was calling you," she says annoyed. I hold my dead phone up, the screen stalls at turning on before it flashes a bright screen with a dead battery.

I shrug and look up at her guiltily  "It died." My phone is literally always dead.

"Your phone is always dead," she notes irritably. I roll my eyes at her recitation of my thoughts. I don't know if it's an Android thing or not, but it's always dead and always glitching. She rolls her eyes and reaches into her pocket, producing her portable charger. She knows what's up, and unlike me she's always prepared.

"Why won't you buy a portable charger?" she asks as we walk out of the exhibit. I shrug. I don't have an actual answer. I just never think to buy it.

"Thanks" I beam at her. I snatch my charger from the pocket of my denim jacket and hook it up to the charger and my phone.

"So guess what," Giovanna whispers to me. I glare at her sideways as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. She knows the guessing game irritates me, especially when she's so eager. It's either gossip or bad news and I don't care much for either. I also know if I don't play along she will just not tell me and that's even more annoying than actually guessing, but the energy is just not there. We stare at each other for a solid sixty seconds before I decide to answer, failing at our stare down.

"What?" I ask, oozing sarcasm and false interest. She shoots me an icy glare before rolling her eyes and sucking air into her teeth with agitation.

"I was speaking to Rob," she says slowly, intending in drag this story out. I can already feel myself getting annoyed. Patience is a virtue I have not yet mastered. I squint at her to let her know her window is quickly closing. With a big sigh she says  " Guess what he just told me?"

I look at her and flash a blank look. How long is she going to make me try to guess what she has to say. She sighs louder and glares at me again. "You're no fun,' She says for dramatics. I catch a couple staring at us, Giovanna follows my eyes and starts at them, they quickly turn away.

"Anyways, Avery is back home and he really wants to see you " She says nonchalantly before glancing at the artwork curiously and blanches with dislike. I can't even bring myself to look back, my mind begins racing. My inability to comprehend what she said causes me to stupidly spit out "What?"