through the halls, her voice just audible over the constant slamming lockers, scuffing sneakers, and flushing toilets. Diana ignores the noise and talks about what may have caused the rift.
Maybe it had something to do with junior prom. Suki kissed a boy and didnât tell Diana and Sandra. Diana made fun of the boy in front of Suki. Feelings were hurt.
Or maybe it had something to do with the distances between where they live. Suki lives in Evanston, a suburb north of the city. It took an hour for Diana to drive there from her home on the West Side, and soon after arriving sheâd have to turn around and drive back. Chicago is wide and flat, and where you live means something.
Or maybe it had to do with race. Suki has been hanging out with white and Asian friends. Suki is half-white, half-Asian. Sandra is half-white, half-black. Diana is all Latina.
And maybe itâs just something that cannot be explained. In life, things happen. Diana believes people are going to do what they are going to do. You canât make someone into something theyâre not.
Diana has bigger worries. Her older brother moved back home. He had been living with his wife and baby boy at his in-lawsâ, but things didnât work out. Now heâs around the Martinez house all the time. His friends are calling at two in the morning and he canât afford a cell phone. Along with her sisters, heâs always telling Diana what to do. Itâs been stressful.
The stress makes her look forward to swim practice even more. Every afternoon, fifty laps that keep her sane. Two hours that belong to her alone, that allow her to think, to arrange and rearrange the various parts of her life.
âItâs relaxful. I just think about everything, â she says, then pauses. âI talk to myself a lot.â
Each morning, students gather in homeroom advisory for ten minutes of unintelligible announcements from the principal. Something about a band concert, something about homecoming. The students are supposed to listen. No one does.
A teacher tries to hush her students: âListen to the announcement! â
A student responds: âIâm listening, with one ear!â
Itâs homecoming week, and the walls and lockers of the high school have been plastered with orange construction paper, handmade signs reading Payton Pride . Football players strut through the halls in their jerseys. Payton recently adopted the Chicago Bears logo and changed their mascot to the Grizzlies, though the previous name of Navigators remains on the teamâs uniform. This improvisational quality extends to Paytonâs stadium. They donât have their own, and borrow that of nearby high school Lane Techâs. Homecoming is not at home.
Saturday breaks clear and bright. Lane Techâs stadium is directly in OâHare Airportâs flight path, and planes fly low overhead, their silver sides glinting in the sun. Joining the planes are Vâs of geese flying so close to the field that a punt could hit them.
Payton is punting a lot today. The varsity Grizzlies arenât enjoying themselves as much as they were earlier in the season when watching the J.V. get pummeled. But no one is really watching. The real game is in the stands, where students are looking behind them, talking on cell phones, letting friends know where they are.
âWhere am I at? Where you at?â shouts one boy into his phone. Three girls with painted bear paw prints on their cheeks walk past. He waves and gives them air kisses, then keeps scanning for his friends.
On the field, the cheerleaders and pom squad run through their cheers, but mostly stand with their hands in the small of their backs, looking up into the crowd. They donât have cell phones and it looks like they want them. The stands are bustling with planning for that evening.
âWhat you doing later?â
âWe get a touchdown yet?â
âHow much more time is