The Calculated Risk

Chapter 1 Part 2

Aunt Serita lived in New York City and she had everything prepared for her arrival. There was no adult more proud of LaToya’s academic success. She boasted of Toya as though she was her own.

New York was teeming with sounds, dirty sidewalks, and pizza stores on every corner. She could see the allure behind the busy adult life, but she couldn't help but long for the beach, a pina colada, and her favorite book.

The way people dressed here involved a lot of muted colors. There was more emphasis on accessories: jewelry, shades, bangles, and shoes. Opting to fit in, she sported a black t-shirt, her faithful jeans and some shades. Her shoes, well these Keds were nothing worth fashioning, but hopefully no one would notice them. Riding Grand Central Station unprepared, she found the map route much more intricate than her usual California route.

“Lost in a map maze? I’ve mastered it after a few wrong turns. Need a hand?” His voice pierced through her ears like an unexpected speaker on high volume. Startled, looking down at his shoes, his legs, and his face, the undeniably handsome face she cheesed. He stood stoic in some dark navy Sperrys, fitted Levi’s, and a white collared shirt. Two buttons unbuttoned, he smiled back, revealing pearly whites.

“Here, look… the secret is these two lines you see here,” he stood next to her. She could smell him, like black pepper or maybe smoky, something with an edge. He used his long pointer finger. “These lines intersect, so it really doesn’t matter which route you take. As long as you get off here, then you can get to pretty much any town you need to within walking distance. This map is overcomplicated and decades old."Looking down at her, offering a polite smile, she swallowed to conjure up some words.

“I know how to read a map.” There her words came flying out, lacking warmth and charisma. “Well, isn’t she a ray of sunshine!” Another gentleman threw a plush football toward her head, she ducked. The boy swiftly caught it, the two gentlemen cackled.

The pearly teeth and white shirt boy stepped away from LaToya. “Just tryna help man.” He said with a careless shrug and beguiling smile. He and his friend, tossing the plush toy back and forth, disappeared into the train. A slight roll in her eyes, bagged clutched, she followed the two. She required no guide, yet if that boy navigated this vicinity, remaining unseen would serve her well.

She still got lost. Getting lost in New York City's busy streets felt like being swept away in a flood of people, each block a churning wave pulling you further from shore. The flood of females with “Metro STEM: Hello, My Name Is” tags on their collared shirts, helped her find the entrance.

She was ranked in Class C. The program sorted students into three tracks- A for returning scholars in their third summer of STEM. B for second timers and C for the first time admits.

The polished marble floors of the institute gleamed under the soft glow of recessed lighting. Clusters of impeccably dressed kids, their voices a blend of excited pronouncements and murmured debate, dominated the hall. They spoke of quantum entanglement, CRISPR gene editing, and the mysteries of dark matter. Toya, however, felt utterly adrift.

At 16, she was younger than most of the students and felt acutely aware of the gap between their sophisticated understanding and her own still-forming knowledge. The casual confidence with which these kids discussed concepts she was still learning in her textbooks made her feel like an outsider, silently observing a conversation she wasn’t ready to participate in.

Overwhelmed and slightly disoriented by the sheer volume of information and the fast-paced discussions, she accidentally stumbled backward, knocking into a gaggle of girls with books in their hands. Books came flying to the ground as did her phone.

“OH! I’m so sorry!” phone in hand first, she picked up the books. “Don’t bother! You’re obviously new here.” Tiny weapons reached over her phone, grabbing a physics textbook.

She knew that voice and she knew those claws. “Click clack… click click clack..” the shrilling pops echoed. “It’s you!” Toya blurted. Except upon examination, she looked totally different.

The messy bun was fashioned into a sleek, well-cut asymmetrical bob. What was a frighteningly pink array was now hushed with tones of beige and white. No ring light, her accessories were tucked underneath her thin arms in the form of scholarly books. A smug smile on the influencer's face accompanied by a glimmer in her eyes, met La’Toya’s acquaintance.

“Oh. You.” What appeared to be the second most awkward encounter of these two girls quickly unraveled into something unexpected. “You never tagged me! She said she recognized my brand at the airport.”

The six behind took out their iPhones covered in various bedazzled cases with pictures of puppies, beautiful hashtags and other jargon. “Who is she?” One stated. “How incredibly rude.” one with short hair chimed in.

“I’m LaToya. I’m sorry. I’ve been very busy. I just didn’t think our selfie was worthy of my measly 500 followers.”she boldly replied. How could the bobble-headed influencer at the airport who taught her about lighting be at a STEM internship? “It’s cool.” The influencer called off her henchmen.

“My name is Tatum. That’s Marlow, Amerie, Juliet and Frida.” She shouldn’t judge, but she was totally judging. They were all copies of one another; she couldn’t spot the original until she said, “How adorable would it be to break in and mentor a class C freshman?”

The blonde, blue eyed girl with pink streaks in her hair gave a chilling smile to Toya. “That’s a cute idea.” Tatum rebutted. “Imagine the glowing compliments we would receive from our counselor. We could make it a media project for advertisement, like a transformative summer journey.” Tatum and the blonde circled her. The blonde spoke out, “Reaching back to Class C. C where it all started.” Marlow and Juliet took out their phones.

“Keep going.” encouraged Marlow. “From Class C to Classy! Mentee to Mentor. From stem terrible to STEM stacular!!!” the blonde stepped out into the limelight. “We’ll keep working on narrowing down our hook.” Tatum was the brains of the t****k operation. Operation copy and paste -that is, La’Toya thought. A bell rang.

Locking her arm inside LaToya’s, Tatum said, “Hold up, freshman.” “Class C students start mornings off in Room 3 for orientation. We-” she pointed to her friends. “start classes in room 5 with Counselor Margerie. We are in class B. Your lecture hall is right next to that dusty desk.” She pointed three doors down. “Don’t be late. Counselor Sonny will flag you.” LaToya nodded, grateful. This was the second favor Tatum had done for her. “Don’t worry, sis, your mentors got your back!” she heard Amerie, the blonde, call out.

Amerie, Marlow…Juliet she didn't quite know cause they were all clones of the one who stood out. Amerie.