Furry Hands

2

Miriam browbeat me into taking a dance class with her. I wouldn't tell her this, but I was intimidated. She won dance competitions and had a TikTok account with a million followers. I knew what a beat was in theory, but that was as far as it went. The class was a hip-hop dance class.

I'm glad we picked this one because it was freaking hilarious. Have you ever seen a middle-aged lawyer twerk for the first time? Bro. There were some black girls that were fantastic. They didn't just know the moves; they got bored with the moves from the class and added their own. I must've been staring because I heard, "Hey, look over here, Ryan."

I said, "What? I just noticed they have really good technique!"

When I took her home, she unloaded on me. "I don't even know who you are. I thought you only had eyes for me but now I know you just love checking out other girls. I should do your star chart. You know what that is, right?"

This was a trap, at least for me. I love science. Scientists are sure that astrology is crap. Look at it this way. There are only 12 signs. There are 7 billion people. So how can one sign cover 500 million people? Here's another thing. What if you were born a month premature? Was your real sign based on your birthday or the day one month later when you should've been born? How did the stars understand women going into labor at different times?

But I couldn't just say "Astrology is crap and I don't believe in it." That would start a fight and hurt her feelings.

So here's what I said when Miriam asked to do my birth chart, "Yeah, let's do that sometime. It's the holidays right now so this isn't a great time but someday."

I don't know where I screwed up. I really liked the class and not just because of the black girls. Miriam was amazing too. The teacher would do some crazy complicated sequence. Miriam picked it up fast. She just knows her body. I wanted to say that but without sounding like a simp or a nerd. But I couldn't. That's my life now. I feel something. I want to say it, but I just don't. I can't.

She was over at my house and Miriam started to explain.

"When were you born?"

"June 5th, 2005."

"Okay, but what time of day?" she asked.

"I don't know. I think at night probably."

"It would be better if you had an hour but I'll just make it midnight. Do you know which hospital?" she asked.

"I always assumed St. Norbert's. Should I ask my mom?" I already pictured a weird text exchange. Maybe if I called and said it was for a school project. That always worked. Or it always worked, 80% of the time.

I called up Mom.

"My mom says it was St. Shelby's in Shelbyville. She doesn't know the time because she says I was a demon baby and she had to be knocked out to deliver me."

Miriam was dying, "OMG, your family is too weird. It's good we have a place. The time isn't crucial and we can just say it was midnight to make the math work."

She tapped for a few minutes on her phone. She had an answer. "Babe, you know you're a Gemini, right? It's obvious. I don't know how I missed it."

"Oh, I'm just glad I'm not a Cancer. No, I didn't know, and why is it obvious?"

"Well June 5th birthdays are Geminis. You never stop talking. You have a million ideas. You're ADHD. And you're moody."

This was a lot to take in. Sort of. She seemed to think she had an inside scoop about me. But it might as well have come from a box of fortune cookies.