Solstice

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Mom says, “Watch the heat today.”

I nod and hug her and go to school like normal. Her concern’s nothing out of the ordinary. And neither is the heat.

At school after lunch, I walk through the breezeway, keeping my head down so the mist doesn’t get in my eyes. The vapor sprays out from above, causing a layer of green gel to settle on my skin and hair. I reach up and run my hands through my hair to try to smooth it, but the cooling gel only makes the curls get wilder; it’s no use. My clothes stick to me, and under my backpack, I’m coated in sweat. Out on the old parking lot, heat waves ripple over what remains of the black tar, only disturbed by a random cactus here and there. Still, I take my time before Social Sciences, soaking in the heat. Every other kid at school complains about it, but to me, the heat finds a way to sink into my soul and give me strength.

For the school to be spraying gel, the heat has to be extreme. Just before I walk back inside, I glance up at the bright red numbers of the thermometer. It blinks one hundred and twenty-one degrees Fahrenheit, which definitely falls into the extreme category. The temperature hasn’t climbed this high since we moved to Austin four years ago. It rarely goes above one hundred and sixteen. I pull out my FON to double check it, and it registers the same. One degree more and…

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