The next day I walked into art class determined to avoid April at all costs. I decided I’d sit in a different spot, but the second I walked in, April waved at me.

“Hey, Rodion!” The smile on her face was so open and sincere that I had no choice but to wave back.

“Hi, April.” I responded, and to my horror, felt myself grinning.

“How are you? Listen, my mom wants to meet you.”

“What? Why?” I almost choked on a piece of gum I was chewing.

“I told her we met on the school bus back in kindergarten, so she wanted me to bring you over. To say hello.”

“Okay.” I nodded, despite myself. I couldn’t believe I’d just been invited to April’s house. It was like being invited to the moon.

“So, how about this Saturday? Maybe you can come over for lunch? We live over by Wilkins and Murray.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll give you my address after class.” She smiled. The bell rang and Dr. Clark started roll call. I couldn’t focus. Here I was, Pip from ‘The Great Expectations’. I pictured April’s mother as a Miss Havisham grilling me until I was broken.

That Saturday at 12pm I was standing in front of a three-storied brick mansion on Woodmont street. I hadn’t planned on telling Sergei about the visit, but he was home before I left, and forced me to dress up.

“You’re going to meet someone’s parents. You gotta make an effort, look nice. You wanna make a good impression, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Of course you do. Is she cute? The girl?”

“No.”

“Alright, listen, if you want to go dressed in rags, fine, but you’ll regret it later.”

“I won’t feel stupid. I couldn’t care less.” I said, then remembered how I hated wearing the black jeans and the Jim Morrison t-shirt and sighed. “Alright, fine, give me the clothes.”

So there I was, wearing beige pants and a sweater. I adjusted my belt, looked down at my sneakers, drew in my breath and knocked. April opened the door.

“Hi!” She smiled. “Come in!”

I took in the spacious hallway, a fluffy carpet on the floor of the living room that I could see straight ahead. A large gray cat appeared and positioned itself next to the bannister, blocking my passage. Its green eyes inspected me.

“This is Oliver!” April giggled. “He’s very friendly. You can say hello if you want.”

I approached the cat. I had no idea how one said hello to a cat, so I simply stared at the animal. The cat meowed and turned its back to me, wiggling its tail.

“He wants you to pet him.” April translated. I squatted next to Oliver and pet him between his ears. Immediately, he purred loudly.

“He likes you!” April clapped. “That’s great. It means you’re a good person.” She announced. “Animals pick up on things like that.”

She led me to the kitchen.

“Mama is waiting for us in the kitchen.” April said and pointed to the back of the house. The way she said, not Mom or Mother, but Mama, for a second I thought it was my Mama waiting for us. My brain short-circuited, and I could see my mother’s face right in front of me. I could almost feel her hands comforting me. My eyes welled up with tears and I let out a deep breath. I needed to run away from this place, to disappear before I had a meltdown. But I steeled myself and followed April into the kitchen.

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A tall, energetic-looking woman with bright blue eyes rose to greet me. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Rodion! Nice to meet you. I am Mrs. McPherson. Elizabeth.” She flashed a smile. “April tells me you met all the way back in kindergarten.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“Your name. Rodion. It’s very unusual.”

“I guess so. I was named after my grandfather.” I responded. I hadn’t thought of this in years.

“How interesting. I guess you’ve read Crime and Punishment?”

“No, not yet.” I averted my eyes. I had tried reading the book, but each time I started, I grew bored and confused by all the different nicknames and storylines.

“You know, there is a character with your name in the book. Rodion Raskolnikov.” Mrs. McPherson looked very pleased with herself, carefully pronouncing the difficult Russian name.

I nodded.

“I hope you read it and let me know what you think. April is about to read it, too. I love Dostoevsky.” Mrs. McPherson gave her daughter a pointed stare, and April shook her head in mock indignation.

We had lasagna for lunch. Before that day, I’d never had lasagna. I’d wondered about it, having played the Garfield game a few times. I shared that bit of information, and Mrs. McPherson’s face lit up.

“That’s the cutest thing. So you learned about lasagna from watching Garfield?”

“Yes. Well. The video games, mostly.”

“So, did you like it?”

“I did. A lot. Thank you.” I took the last bite of the lasagna. When we finished eating, I got up to help clean up the dishes.

“Thank you, Rodion.” Mrs. McPherson smiled. “Not many friends of April’s are so polite.”

“Mom!” April raised her eyebrows.

“It’s true. Not one of your friends ever offered to clean up after eating.” Her mother shrugged.

“I’m used to cleaning. It’s just me and my brother, that’s why. If I don’t do it, he has to, and he doesn’t have time.” I put the dishes into the sink.

“I see.” Mrs. McPherson bit her lip. “Listen, Rodion, how would you like to come here, visit us, from time to time?”

“Okay.” I opened my eyes wide. The invitation had caught me off guard. I’d been sure Mrs. McPherson couldn’t wait to get rid of me.

***

After that day, I started going over to April’s. At first, it was once a week, but then my visits became more frequent.

Her mother was around at first, but then started leaving us alone. I never met her father. It was almost like he didn’t exist at all, though April mentioned his job took him to California.

We usually walked to April’s house together after school. Our unusual pair attracted some attention at first, but then people got used to us spending time together. April and I spoke about everything. At first, she spoke more while I listened, but then I started sharing things with her as well. April told me about her favorite books and songs. April’s world consumed me. She confided in me, told me things I never thought I would learn about anyone.

“You know, Rodion, my aunt, she does this thing. It’s kind of like time travel.”

“What?”

“Yes, past life regression therapy. She can help you connect with you true self and live out different life scenarios.”

“That doesn’t exist in real life. That’s like a video game.” I shook my head.

“It does! She has a lot of clients. Some of them are famous.”

“No way! Have you ever done it?” Immediately, I had an idea. I would go to a time scenario where Mama was still alive.

“Not yet. I want to try it out, though. But my aunt said I have to wait till I’m eighteen.”

“Why is that?”

“So my brain is formed. She says I’m still too young.”

“Oh. I guess I’m too young to try it, too?”

“Yes, she won’t do it until you’re eighteen. But we can maybe try it together? When we’re older?”

I felt a knot form in my stomach. Was April talking about a future together? I felt the tips of my fingers grow cold. Did I want a future with her? Immediately, I brought up a topic that was sure to get me into a grim state of mind.

“You know, I haven’t told you how I came to America. My mom married this dude. He was kind of like my step-father, and then he dumped us.” I omitted the part where Phil was supposed to be my biological father.

“What?” She stared at me. “You never told me about him.”

“No. He’s awful. I don’t like to think about him.”

“I’m sorry. Where is he now?”

“Around.” I shrugged. “He’s got a new family now.”

“So he didn’t help when your mom died?”

“No.” I shook my head. I was on the verge of bursting into tears, but there was another emotion rising in me. “But I want to punish him for what he’d done.”

“What are you gonna do to him?”

“I dunno yet.” I clenched my fists. “But I’m gonna wait until I’m older, like the Count of Monte Cristo. And then I’ll find a way.”