Читать книгу Back to Me - Earl Sewell - Страница 10
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MAYA
Keysha and I walked from my house toward Veterans Park, where the festival was being held. As we got closer, we saw throngs of people walking rhythmically into the park, many of them carrying lawn chairs and ice coolers, in search of the perfect spot to set up. There were little kids with painted butterflies on their faces and balloons tied to their wrists. I noticed several teen couples holding hands and kissing each other. That saddened me because it reminded me of how I felt when I was with Misalo. As Keysha and I made our way past a gathering of girls, we both noticed how they looked at us and started laughing for no apparent reason.
“What was that about?” Keysha asked.
“I have no idea,” I said as I kept moving forward.
“I heard that there is supposed to be a fireworks show tonight,” Keysha mentioned.
“I don’t know if I want to be out here that late. I didn’t bring any bug spray, and you know that we have mosquitoes the size of airplanes around here.”
“Oh, girl, the mosquitoes aren’t thinking about you. They have way too many people to chew on,” Keysha said jokingly.
I would’ve laughed, but I honestly just wasn’t in the mood.
“Do you want to grab something from the concession stand?” Keysha asked.
“I guess,” I said nonchalantly.
Keysha ordered cheese nachos and a Coke. I ordered a pretzel and a drink. Once we had our food, we located an empty picnic table and sat down to eat. As Keysha enjoyed her nachos, I casually glanced around to see who I knew. It didn’t take me long to spot Priscilla. She’d just stepped away from the concession stand with a hot dog. Our eyes made contact, and she walked toward me.
“Is it okay if I sit here with you guys for a minute?” she asked.
“Hey, Priscilla,” Keysha greeted her. It was cool to see that they’d let all the bad blood between them disappear. However, if Priscilla had ruined my prom dress and my evening the way she’d messed up Keysha’s, I’d still be ticked off. I guess Keysha was more forgiving than I was when it came to stuff like that.
“How’s the baby doing?” Keysha asked.
“Please! I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Priscilla said.
“Girl, isn’t it about time to get your perm touched up?” Keysha asked, glancing at Priscilla’s hair, which was looking like a bird’s nest.
“Yes, it is, but every dime I have needs to be saved to buy things for the baby. So, right now I can’t afford to see a beautician.”
“Hasn’t Antonio stepped up and started being a real man yet? I mean, if you had a little help, perhaps things would be different,” I said.
“No. He still doesn’t believe it’s his. He is going to deny it until the baby arrives and he can have a blood test done. I can’t believe how I fell for his bull,” Priscilla said, taking a bite out of her hot dog.
“Are you craving anything yet?” Keysha asked.
“Girl, Chinese food. I swear, the owners at Ming Chow know me by name,” Priscilla said with a chuckle.
“Is your stomach showing yet?” I asked.
“Thank God, no. I would hate to be all big and pregnant over the summer,” Priscilla admitted.
“But that means that during the school year you’ll start showing,” Keysha pointed out.
“I know,” Priscilla murmured. I could tell she wasn’t very proud of that. “You know, when my dad found out I’d gotten pregnant, he cried.” Priscilla took a deep breath, exhaled and then stopped eating. “That was the first time I’d ever seen my dad cry,” she added, getting emotional.
Keysha and I looked at each other and then at her. Neither one of us knew what to do, so we didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry,” Priscilla took a napkin and dabbed at the tears in her eyes. “I didn’t plan on breaking down.”
“It’s okay,” I said, giving her a hug.
“Thanks,” she said, holding back more tears of regret. After getting her emotions under control, she said, “By the way, I wanted to tell you that you need to be careful about who you send photos to.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked as a feeling of dread filled my heart.
“Everyone knows about the photos of you posing in your underwear. I’ve also overheard girls saying mean things about you.”
“Mean things like what?” Keysha asked.
“Yeah, like what?” I chimed in.
“Well, this one girl got upset because her boyfriend showed her the photos and he wanted her to do the same thing for him and she got really mad at him,” Priscilla said.
“I could just choke Misalo!” I hissed.
“There’s more,” Priscilla continued. “I want you to be careful because people can be very mean.”
“I’m not worried about what people say,” I said.
“But you should be. Look at me. Before I got pregnant, I used to have friends. Now those friends have told me that their parents don’t want them hanging around me. They think I might be a bad influence. It sucks how some people can treat a pregnancy as if it’s the plague.” Priscilla started getting emotional once again.
Both Keysha and I remained silent. I didn’t think we’d given much thought to how a pregnancy or even texting could ruin your reputation. Neither Keysha nor I knew what to make of Priscilla sharing so much of herself.
“Just don’t let people label you as some kind of sex-crazed girl. Ever since people found out I’m pregnant, boys have been trying to have sex with me. They say stupid stuff like, ‘I can’t get you pregnant twice.’ It’s so annoying and humiliating. One jackass even took a photo of his privates with his cell phone and came up and showed it to me. I told him if he ever did it again, I’d call the cops.”
“OMG. I’ve gotten text messages from shirtless guys trying to hook up with me,” I confessed.
“For real?” Keysha asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Who? Do you still have the pictures?” Keysha wanted to know.
“No. I deleted them. They were gross,” I said.
“See, that’s what happens when you get a bad reputation. Other girls are the worst. One crazy girl wanted to fight me because her boyfriend was pressuring her. I don’t know how or why, but somehow she got it in her head that when I announced that I was pregnant at the prom, her boyfriend suddenly wanted her to be more like me.”
“How does that happen?” Keysha asked.
Priscilla rolled her eyes. “For the life of me, I just don’t understand how people get stuff twisted. I swear, sometimes I know exactly how President Obama feels. If they could blame natural disasters on him, they would.”
“Wow,” I said. I had never thought about what she was going through. Priscilla finished her hot dog, and the three of us sat around and chatted for about twenty minutes.
Then, all of a sudden, Priscilla said, “My stomach feels horrible.”
“Are you okay?” Keysha asked.
“I just feel like I want to vomit…” A sour expression formed on Priscilla’s face.
“Maybe you ate a bad hot dog,” I said.
“No, it’s not that. It’s morning sickness,” Priscilla explained. “Look, my house is just across the street. My mom is there. I’ll see you guys around.”
“Do you want us to walk you back?” I asked.
“No,” Priscilla said, rising up. She took a hard swallow, looked both of us in the eyes and said, “I’ll see you guys around.” I watched as Priscilla walked toward the edge of the park.
Keysha and I finished eating our food and decided to walk around and explore everything at the festival. We looked at clothing, trinkets and other merchandise. We came across a vendor who sold all types of hats. Keysha decided that she wanted to check it out. She and I both tried on several summer hats that we thought were cute.
“Ooh, that one makes you look grown and sexy, Maya,” she said as I tugged at the brim of a hat I’d tried on. Keysha picked up one just like it and tried it on.
“Now, you know that’s against the rules, right?” I asked.
“I know. I don’t want to walk around looking like your twin,” she said jokingly. Keysha looked at herself in the mirror. “Oh, God, I look like my mother wearing this thing.” She immediately took it off and put it back.
We moved along to another vendor, who was selling sunglasses. Keysha picked up a pair, tried them on, turned and looked at me for approval.
“Oh, you look like such a diva in those,” I said, complimenting her.
“Really?” she asked, searching for a mirror.
“Yeah. You look like a woman who has it all together. Especially with the head scarf you have on.”
Keysha found a mirror, glanced at herself and began making kissy face gestures.
“I do look kind of cute,” she said, removing the sunglasses to check the price. “I think I’m going to get them. Do you see anything that you want?” she asked.
“No. I’m not really shopping for myself. I want to find something for Misalo,” I said, looking around at the other vendors to see where I could go. I spotted a guy who was spray painting T-shirts. “Keysha, I’ll be over there.” I pointed to where I’d be.
“Okay. I’ll catch up with you,” she said as I stepped away.
I made my way over to the artist merchant. There were a number of people looking over his shoulder at what he was creating. When I got a chance to take a peek, I realized that he was finishing up a T-shirt with a caricature drawing of Sabrina and Keysha’s brother, Mike. Mike and Sabrina were sitting on a stool. Sabrina was sitting on his lap with her cheek pressed to his face and her arm draped over his shoulder.
“You guys are going to love the way this has turned out,” I said, admiring how well the designer had captured their features.
When the designer finished, Mike paid him while Sabrina and I stood off to the side.
“Hey, Maya. How are you?” Sabrina asked.
“I’m hanging,” I said, trying not to sound depressed.
“I’m sorry about you and Misalo. I heard about what happened,” she said.
“Thanks, but it’s not over just yet.” I didn’t want her sympathy.
“Even after what he did to you? I mean breaking up is one thing, but doing what he did was just wack.” Sabrina looked at me as if I were dumb for even wanting him back.
“I love Misalo, okay? I’ve been with him for a long time, and you just don’t walk away when things get tough,” I told her, pleading my case.
“What’s up?” Mike asked as he walked up and handed Sabrina the T-shirt. While Sabrina was focused on the
T-shirt, I noticed Mike glancing at me with lust in his eyes.
“Oh, God! Not you, too!” I said with disgust.
Shrugging his shoulders, Mike said, “What?”
“You were just undressing me with your eyes, Mike. You saw the photos, didn’t you?” I asked.
Mike nervously glanced at Sabrina and then back at me.
“Come on. Be honest,” I said, urging him to tell me the truth.
Choosing his words carefully, Mike said, “One of the guys on the football team showed them to me. I told him he should delete them.” I knew Mike was lying through his teeth, but there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
“Well, I got the text photos, too. As soon as I saw the first picture, I started hitting the delete button,” said Sabrina. “Me, personally, I think you’re very brave for even coming out in public. You know how rumors spread around this town. People can take something as innocent as the sun shining and twist it into a story about a giant meteorite on a collision course with Earth. But I understand why you took the pictures. I know exactly what true love feels like. I took some sexy photos for Mike. I’m just so glad he kept his promise and didn’t forward them to all of his immature friends.”
“Well, Misalo said the same thing. I still haven’t found out why he did it,” I said.
“When I saw him earlier, I was going to ask him the same thing, but the moment I mentioned your name, he cut me off. He said that he didn’t want to talk about you at all,” Mike informed me.
“Wait, what do you mean, when you saw him earlier?” I asked.
“He’s here walking around somewhere,” Mike replied, confirming what I was thinking.
“Seriously?” I asked, glancing around the crowd and searching for him.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?” asked Keysha, who’d come over after paying for her sunglasses.
“Damn! Those big-ass glasses make you look like a fly.” Mike insulted Keysha and then started laughing.
“That’s not funny, Mike,” Sabrina said, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Forget you, Mike.” Keysha punched his shoulder several times.
“I was just joking. Jeez! Calm down,” Mike said as he moved away from Keysha.
“Where are you guys headed?” Keysha asked Sabrina and Mike.
“We’re going to the concession stand to get some food. Do you guys want to come with us?” Sabrina asked.
“No, we just came from there,” Keysha informed them. “I actually just saw Wesley, and he wanted me to head over to the main stage to watch some type of performance,” she announced.
“We were over there earlier, when a local dance school was performing. It was mostly little kids, though,” Mike said.
“Do you think Misalo is over there?” I asked.
“He might be. He was walking in that direction when I last saw him,” Mike said.
“Well, that’s where Keysha and I are headed,” I said.
“Cool. We’ll see you guys later,” said Sabrina as she looped her arm around Mike’s waist and began tugging him along.
“Peace.” Mike held up his first and second fingers as he and Sabrina backed away.
* * *
Keysha and I made our way over to the main stage. There were large banners with the logos of the corporate sponsors, speakers, microphones and an assortment of musical equipment. Tan metal foldaway chairs were neatly organized in rows, ten seats across and ten seats deep. All the seats were nearly filled.
“Look. Two people are getting up from those front-row seats,” Keysha pointed out.
We picked up our pace to ensure that we got the prime spot. Once we got situated, I took a glance around in search of Misalo, but I did not see him.
“So, what’s this all about, Keysha?” I asked as we watched a musician sit down and begin slapping his palms against bongos.
“I have no idea. In fact, I was very surprised to see that Wesley was out of rehab,” Keysha confessed.
“How did he look?” I asked.
“Really good,” she answered.
“So, like, where is Lori? Why wasn’t she attached to him?” I asked.
Keysha chuckled. “I asked the same question. I was, like, ‘So, where is your shadow?’ Wesley grimaced when I mentioned Lori. He said that she went back to Indianapolis to visit her family.”
“So, he’s still dating her?” I asked.
“According to him, he dumped her,” Keysha said.
Before long, a man appeared onstage. He walked up to a microphone that was positioned center stage. He adjusted the height of the stand and gave the microphone a few taps with the pads of his fingers to make sure it was on.
“Thank you for coming out and spending your afternoon with us here at today’s festival. My name is Omar, and I’m one of the many organizers of this event. This year I wanted to do something different. I wanted to showcase some local spoken word artists. I hope you enjoy their work and what they have to say. First up is Candice. She’s a freshman at Illinois State University.”
“I used to see her around Thornwood when she was a senior. I never knew she was a poet, though,” said Keysha.
“Hello, everyone,” Candice said, greeting the audience. She was wearing a cute blue and white top with a matching miniskirt. She looked as if she was about to say something really interesting. “This piece is called ‘Standing There.’”
He’s standing with her now.
And I’m remembering the way he used to be when he was with me.
Tell me. While you’re standing there with her, are you thinking about me?
Do you remember slow dancing with me? Do you remember what you said to me?
You used to kiss the crevices of my tortured heart. You used to look into my eyes and tell me all the things I needed to hear but didn’t care to listen to.
Do you ever think about me when you’re with her?
Because I think about you. I think about you the way moonlight thinks about stars. I think about you the way hearts think about love. I think about you the way a soul thinks about finding a mate.
I’m going to tell you what I really think about her.
She’s the knockoff of Chanel.
The prototype for everything I was to you.
She is a copycat.
She will never fill the void in your soul the way that I did.
Neither of you will ever know the pain I felt as I listened to you tell her
“I Do.”
The audience clapped for her because it truly was a very good poem.
Keysha leaned in close to me and whispered, “She was all up on your street with that line about ‘I think about you the way a soul thinks about finding a mate.’”
“Well, it’s true. I can’t help the way my heart feels,” I stated.
Omar came back on the stage. “Okay, moving right along. Next, we have Wesley.”
“OMG,” Keysha said as a smile spread across her face.
Wesley walked up to the microphone.
“I’m a little nervous,” he said as he scanned the crowd. The moment his eyes found Keysha, he smiled. “The poem I’m about to read is called ‘Keysha’s Heart,’ and I’d like to dedicate it to a very special friend.” He nodded in Keysha’s direction to let her know that he was referring to her.
Keysha got all giddy. She sat upright and listened attentively. Omar sat down at the bongos and began playing, making light background sounds for Wesley’s piece.
“This is something I wrote the very first time that I saw you, but I only recently finished it,” Wesley said before he began.
I am fascinated and captivated by your mystery and secrets.
I want to know who you are and what part of heaven you come from.
I want the combination to your heart so that I can make your emotions my own.
Whenever I think about you, my heart and soul soar like an eagle.
Your smile is like warm sunshine on my face.
Whenever it rains, it reminds me of all the tears I’ve caused you to shed.
Your teardrops burst inside my soul and remind me of how much we’ve been through.
My heart wants to dance with your heart and tell it how sorry I am.
My soul sings for you and my mind is consumed with thoughts of us
being together as one once again.
I once read that the first step toward healing is learning to forgive.
I hope you can forgive me so that I can walk one more step closer to you.
I glanced at Keysha and noticed her eyes brimming with moisture. I opened my purse and handed her a tissue.
“That was so beautiful.” Keysha wiped away a teardrop. “Wasn’t that sweet?” she asked, glancing back at me.
“Yes, it was nice,” I acknowledged as the next poet came onto the stage. In the back of my mind, I was wishing Wesley was Misalo, apologizing to me. Keysha and I sat and listened to several more spoken word artists.
When that segment of the program concluded, Keysha said, “Come on. I want to go talk to Wesley about his performance.”
“You go ahead. I’m going to run to the bathroom. I’ll come back,” I said.
“Okay.” Keysha was on such an emotional high that she damn near levitated toward the rear of the stage, where the performers were.
“Oh, God,” I mumbled to myself. “I hope she isn’t planning on trying to hook back up with him. That would just be too crazy.” I asked one of the security guards where the portable bathroom was, and she pointed me in the right direction. As I walked across the field and maneuvered my way through the crowd, I thought I saw Misalo off in a distance, talking to someone. It was difficult to confirm whether or not it was him because of my position and the size of the crowd.
“Misalo,” I called, hoping he’d turn in the direction of my voice, but he couldn’t hear me over the noisy crowd. I was finally able to move to a better position and confirm that it was him. He was hugging some girl.
“Who in the hell is that?” I asked myself as I rushed toward them. As I got closer and saw who he was with, I blurted out, “Oh, hell no!” and quickened my pace.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, tugging on his arm.
“Uh, excuse you. I do believe you’re being very rude,” said Viviana.
“You need to stay away from him. You two don’t have a thing to talk about,” I snapped at her.
“Look, Maya. Why don’t you go hang out with Carlo? That’s who you really want,” said Misalo.
I tried to get him to look into my eyes so that he could see the truth. He turned his cheek to me. He couldn’t even bring himself to meet my gaze.
“Is that what you think?” I asked.
“Please. You want Carlo more than a bee wants a pot of honey,” Viviana said, as if she were a credible authority on what I wanted.
I stepped in front of Misalo, raised my voice and pointed my finger in Viviana’s face. “You know what? You need to stay out of my business, trick!”
“Get your finger out of my face, Maya!” Viviana snarled, issuing a threat.
“And if I don’t?” I encouraged her to make a move on me. I was all set to beat her down for even talking to Misalo.
“You know what? I’m going to be the bigger person today. Besides, it’s obvious that Misalo wants nothing to do with you. He didn’t even hang around to listen to your annoying voice.” Viviana laughed at me condescendingly.
I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, Misalo had walked away. I scanned the crowd but could not locate him.
“Obviously, you don’t have a clue as to what it takes to keep a man,” Viviana remarked as she turned and began walking away.
“Go to hell, Viviana!”
“I’ve already been there. It’s your turn now, honey,” she said, flipping up her middle finger at me.
I was literally about to rush up to her and beat her down, but I saw my little sister, Anna, approaching her and decided against it, at least for right now.