Читать книгу Drama High: Pushin' - L. Divine - Страница 10

“You can be as good as the best of them but as bad as the worst/so don’t test me.

You better move over.”

—NOTORIOUS B.I.G.

Since Mama’s leaving for the evening, I’ll take the opportunity to study the spirit book for a while. Making my way out of the kitchen and through the back yard, I notice Lexi, Mama’s dog, following me to the backhouse. She takes her guardian job way too seriously, if you ask me. I open the screen door and lock it behind me lest anyone decide to surprise me back here, which I doubt. The boys rarely go any farther than the garage attached to the front of the small house. They don’t know exactly what we do back here, nor do they want to.

“Finally, some alone time in the spirit room,” I say to Lexi, who looks uninterested in my enthusiasm. I wish I could read her mind, but unfortunately my newfound sight doesn’t work on dogs. I have a couple of hours before Jeremy meets me back at my mom’s and I want to get as much work done as I can. Before I can get into my studying, my phone vibrates with another call from Rah. Now what?

“Hey, girl,” Rah says groggily through my cell. When I left his house Friday night, he and Sandy were still going hard. I’ve got too much work to do today to be his shoulder, and need to make this call quick if I want to take full advantage of my alone time.

“What’s up, Rah? I’m at Mama’s,” I say while turning from the page that Mama left open for me to study and search for my own shit. I’ll take the bath as prescribed and do some of my assignment, but tonight it’s all about my personal agenda.

“Can you come over on your way home? I have a little something for you I meant to give you Friday.” He can’t be serious. There’s no way in hell I’m stepping back into his house as long as Sandy’s Amazonian ass is there. “Sandy’s gone to her grandparents’ house for the weekend.” Rah’s no mind reader, but he hit that one on the head. I thought he told his baby-mama to move out, but I don’t have time to get the full story.

“It’ll have to be quick because I already have plans for the evening,” I say, glancing at the wall clock and down at the work in front of me. It’s going to take me at least a couple of hours to finish up here and I told Jeremy I’d be back at my mom’s in Inglewood by nine, which means I’ll have to leave here and get to Rah’s by eight to make it back on time.

“Cool. See you later,” Rah says. I hang up my cell and focus on the task at hand. I don’t know why I keep bending to Rah’s will, but I’m getting stronger in more ways than one. Besides, a gift is a gift and who am I to say no? A true friend forgives, and I have no problem with that. And as long as Rah doesn’t mistake my kindness for weakness—again—it’s all good.

It was nice working alone on my spirit work and it was just the peace I needed to get my mind right for the week ahead. I’m working extra hard to get Mama the stove she so deserves for Mother’s Day and to make up for all the work I missed studying for my Advanced Placement exams last week. Luckily, summer’s around the corner, and with both my main job at Netta’s beauty shop and my side hustle doing hair at my mom’s place, my cheddar should be well stacked in a few months.

It took me longer than normal to get back to the west side of town because of the Sunday cruisers out enjoying the beautiful evening. Maybe Jeremy and I can take a ride down the coast tonight if he’s not too tired from surfing all day. Jeremy takes his chosen sport very seriously and with his competition coming up, he’s been pushing harder than ever to be on top of his game.

I’ve been at Rah’s house for all of ten minutes and already his cell phone is working my nerves. He’s been in his room talking since I arrived, and I’m ready to go. If I leave now I could take a shower and relax before Jeremy arrives, not that he cares much how I look these days. We just like being together, morning breath, stank asses and all.

“Rah, I’m out,” I shout from my stance in the living room and head toward the front door. The days of waiting for Rah’s undivided attention are a thing of the past.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he says, jogging into the foyer with a small gold box in hand. He hangs up his cell and hands me my belated gift. Finally. My birthday was weeks ago, but just because it’s late doesn’t mean I won’t accept it. I look up at my boy and smile, opening the box. Rah always gives thoughtful gifts.

“Oh, Rah, it’s beautiful,” I say, pulling out the gold ankh charm hanging from a matching chain. He’s never bought me something so extravagant before. This bling must’ve set him back at least a bill or two. With my gold “Lady J” bangle from Jeremy, I’m starting myself a nice little collection of boyfriend jewelry, even if Rah is technically my ex. Mickey’s the one with the jewelry box full of shiny things from all of her conquests, but my two pieces are nothing to laugh at.

“I know your birthday passed and I acted like a jackass, but I still wanted to give you your gift,” he says, taking the heavy necklace from my hands and walking behind me. “Let me help you put it on.” I move my freshly pressed hair from my left shoulder to my right and hold it up slightly so he can see what he’s doing. After securing the cold metal around my neck, Rah bends down and gently kisses me. He knows my neck is extra sensitive, especially in the groove between my ear and shoulder on either side.

“Rah, I’ve got a man, in case you forgot,” I say, trying to resist his soft lips, but he ignores my reminder and keeps kissing, now almost sucking my skin. If he doesn’t stop soon I’m going to have a hickey on my neck the size of Long Beach to explain to Mama and everyone else with eyes, including Jeremy.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Rah asks, moving his hips from side to side and me right along with him. Damn, he feels good; too good. His phone vibrates in his jean pocket and just in time, too. I almost got caught up in the rapture with this brotha and that is the wrong direction to go in.

“I’ve got to get this. Don’t move,” Rah says, stepping into the living room and leaving me shell-shocked in the foyer. I should really get going, but before I can make my escape I hear something in the back of the house. As Rah continues his conversation in the living room, Sandy walks into the kitchen through the studio door with Rahima on her hip. Why didn’t she come in through the front door like she normally would? I don’t care enough to ask, nor do I want to stick around for the show.

“I saw you two making out through the window,” Sandy says—no hi or hello. Where are her manners? “Are you going to stand there and tell me that you didn’t give up the panties yet?” Sandy asks, throwing her cell phone down on the counter. Rahima looks frightened but stays glued to her mother’s side. Sandy has little regard for her young daughter.

“Well, hello to you, too,” I say, waving at my girl, who waves back in her cute two-year-old way. It looks more like snatching than waving, but I’ll take what I can get.

“Please, Jayd, y’all can cut the act. There’s only one reason a nigga would deny all of this when it’s right here in front of his face, and that’s if he’s getting ass from someone else.” Sandy takes a pot out of the cabinet under the stove and walks over to the sink, filling it with water like she’s about to cook, but we both know that’s not what she’s doing.

“Say what?” I ask, completely offended by her accusation, and so is Rah, who finally walks into the kitchen to deal with his irrational baby-mama. This is my final cue to roll.

“Sandy, you’re talking like you’re crazy. Did you take your meds today?” Rah asks, but there’s nothing funny about Sandy’s behavior. Rah reaches for his daughter, but as usual Sandy’s holding her hostage to make her point. I can’t be a party to this drama any more than I already am. And I’m pissed that someone witnessed my moment of infidelity. Even if I didn’t initiate the neck kiss, I also didn’t do anything to stop it. How am I going to explain this one to Jeremy, not to mention the new gold hanging from my neck?

“Don’t play with me, fool. I know what I saw.” Sandy’s eyes are more evil than usual. I hope she’s not planning to cook grits, because I do not want to witness an Al Green moment. Besides, she has no right reacting to Rah and me doing anything together, even if she’s way off. Why is she the only one who doesn’t see that?

Because she’s right to some degree, my mom says telepathically, reasoning for the wrong side. Shouldn’t she be kicking it with her own man instead of worrying about me and mine?

Mom, not now. Please. I can’t tell, but I think my mom’s laughing at my plea to get her out of my mind. Like I have any control over that. Maybe I can work on that part of my vision, too. Now that I possess her sight, there has to be a way to control it.

“Sandy, you need to relax. You’re not my wife and I don’t have to answer to you—we already established that the last time you tried to pull this shit. We’re not a family, Sandy,” Rah says. His phone rings again and he goes back into the living room to answer it. Sandy looks at me like she wants to slit my throat with one of the knives by the stove. If I could fly over there I’d move them out of her reach, but no such luck.

“I’ve got to make a run real quick,” Rah says, coming back into the foyer where I’m posted. “Jayd, you want to come with me?” I look from Sandy to Rah and then at the clock on the kitchen stove. Jeremy should be on his way soon and I don’t want to keep him waiting. “Ten minutes, Jayd, I promise.”

“All right,” I agree. Anywhere is better than being here with Sandy, and I want to make it clear to Rah that he can’t kiss me like that anymore. Jeremy and I are definitely one-on-one these days, and he needs to respect that. Rah reaches for his keys on the kitchen counter and Sandy promptly snatches them up, now holding them and their daughter hostage.

“Y’all ain’t going nowhere,” she says, throwing the keys out of the open kitchen window. If Rah’s mom kept up with the house maintenance like a good homeowner, there would be a screen there, preventing at least that part of Sandy’s erratic behavior.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Rah yells at a smiling Sandy. Rahima leaps from her mother’s arms and runs to her father, who picks her up, holding her tight.

“I’ve got to go,” I say, opening the door behind me and heading away from the ugly scene. I can holla at Rah later. He puts Rahima down and heads out of the front door behind me. I wave ’bye to Rahima, who’s now back in her mother’s arms. Poor baby. She doesn’t know which way to go, and I feel her. But unlike Rahima, I can drive away from the scene of the crime. Sandy runs out of the kitchen and through the back door. Rah and I stare at each other as we hear his car door slam and the engine start.

“’Bye, bitches!” Sandy yells, pulling away from the curb and speeding down the street with Rahima in the backseat. She must’ve found the keys to Rah’s ride in the bushes. I told Nellie black girls don’t call another sistah a bitch without meaning it in the worst way possible. I thought Rah learned his lesson the last time she stole his grandfather’s car, but I guess not. If my dream about her driving fast and ultimately getting into a near-fatal accident was any indication of what’s ahead, I need to warn Rah.

“We have to stop her,” I say to him, but Rah just looks after his red car speeding down the street, completely dazed. “Come on,” I say, running over to my mom’s car parked in the driveway, but he doesn’t move.

“Man, I’m done chasing that trick. Let her parole officer catch her,” Rah says, not realizing how serious the situation is. He looks down at his ringing cell and silences it for the moment. What the hell?

“Rah, Sandy’s out of control and with your daughter in the back. Don’t you care about Rahima’s well-being?” I open the car door and get in, starting the engine. If we leave now we may be able to catch Sandy at the light.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he says, sending a text to God-only-knows who. “When she gets busted for being out past her curfew, she’ll be in violation of her parole and back in jail, and I’ll have Rahima once and for all. Besides, I’ve got something to handle real quick. Can you drive, baby?” What the hell did this fool just say to me? And is Rah seriously putting his hustle over his daughter’s safety in the hopes that Sandy will get busted? Really?

“Rah, I’m telling you that Sandy driving with Rahima is a bad idea. I had a dream about her getting into an accident where they both get seriously hurt.” Rah gets into the passenger’s seat and looks at me, stroking my cheek with his left hand.

“Jayd, Rahima’s in the car with her mother every day, and nothing that bad has ever happened. Maybe your dream meant something else,” he says, patronizing me. Rah’s never going to take me seriously when it come to what’s best for Rahima because I’m not her mother, and I see that clearly now. “Now can we go, please? That girl’s already got me running late and I need to get my money.”

“Find another way to get there. I’m going home,” I say, pushing Rah out of my mom’s ride and shutting the door behind him. I already know where this road leads and I refuse to go down it with him anymore. I’ve been way too nice about this entire situation, and however their mess ends, I want no part of it.

By the time Jeremy and I finally managed to fall asleep last night, it was too late for me to get a good night’s rest. Rah always manages to get my head too hot for my own good. There has to be some way I can permanently protect myself from his advances, because Lord knows I’ve tried stopping Rah before, and each time I finally give in to his undeniable charm. Even if Rah is an arrogant and bold fool at times, I have to admit I love his taste in jewelry. I’ve been at school all day sporting my belated birthday gift and managing to hide it from Jeremy at the same time. I took the necklace off last night because I didn’t want to explain to Jeremy where it came from, but that discussion is inevitable if I plan on keeping the gift. The solid gold feels good around my neck. Now I know how Chance feels, sporting all of his rapper-like bling: It just feels good wearing a little weight.

“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Sinclair, says, her frizzy red hair officially entering the room before she does. “Quiet down, quiet down,” she says as we all file into the miniature rehearsal room that doubles as our main classroom. As we all settle into fifth period, Mrs. Sinclair looks overly excited to announce our final play of the school year. I didn’t support the spring musical because, as usual, there were no leading roles for a sistah—let them tell it. But in order to maintain my A average, I have to participate in the last production of the year in some capacity. And to continue as an active thespian—or honors drama club member—I have to try out. Every club has its rules of engagement.

“What gives, Mrs. S?” Chance asks, making his favorite teacher’s cheeks the same color as her hair.

“The spring play will be Wait until Dark by Frederick Knott. I am so thrilled! I love this script,” she says, passing out xeroxed copies to half of the class and playbooks to the other half. She only has enough original scripts for the cast members. I snatch up a book and Chance grabs a copy. Everyone’s already visualizing who he or she’ll be, including me. Hopefully I’ll have a good chance at the lead.

“Shit,” I say under my breath, but it doesn’t escape Chance’s ears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking through his packet. “I’m definitely trying out as one of the bad guys in the opening scene,” he says, already absorbed in the dialogue.

“The lead is a blind woman,” I say, looking through the cast description. “And the only other female role is a little girl. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Being blind is a taboo for the women in my lineage—even while pretending, I assume.

“Of course you will need to prepare a dialogue and a monologue for auditions, which will begin next week. Get busy, young people.” Mrs. Sinclair leaves us to our reading and heads back to the theater.

“So, which scene are we going to perform, my blind lady?” Chance says, not realizing that his playful comment gives me the chills. I never want to be blind again—for real or fiction. My sleepwalking incident a few months ago, where I lost my sight temporarily, was enough for me.

“Chance, that’s not funny. And I’m not trying out for the lead. I’m going for the little girl,” I say, skimming through the ancient playbook. I’ve always liked the play, and Mama loved the movie with one of her favorite actresses, Audrey Hepburn, in the lead. Truthfully, I would love to play the lead role, but I can’t take the risk.

“The hell you are,” Chance says, snatching the playbook out of my hand and writing my name next to the lead role. “There. Now you have to try out. Let’s get to work picking a scene.”

“I appreciate the faith, Chance, but you know I’m not going to get it anyway,” I say, reaching for my script. “And I actually like the little girl. Gloria’s got balls.” Both women in the play have gumption, and I like the plot. “As long as I can be in the last production of the year, I’m good.” Chance’s blue eyes look like they’re trying to probe my mind, but he doesn’t have it like the women in my family do.

“Jayd, I don’t get you. One minute you’re up in arms about there not being any parts for you and how unfair the school is. The next you’re turning down the perfect part for you. What the hell?” Alia, Cameron, Matt, and Seth busy themselves with discussing the set designs and other behind-the-scenes details for the production. We have six weeks left in school and the final performance is usually the week before the last, which means our rehearsal schedule will be tight for the next four weeks. The remainder of the class files outside and into the dressing rooms to begin rehearsals. Everyone has to try out: no exceptions. And even if there aren’t enough parts, Mrs. Sinclair makes it a point to have groups perform during class time for grades. That way everyone participates and she has a good pool of understudies if need be.

“Chance, it’s complicated,” I say, looking down at my vibrating phone to see a text from Rah. Ever since his little fiasco with Sandy last night, I’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. This fool is tripping if he thinks I’m going out like a sucker. I have a man and he’s a good one. It’s high time I started acting like it, and that includes no more drama with Rah.

“Yeah, I see,” Chance says, looking at my phone and then back up at me. “When are you going to get a new phone?”

“Why would I do that when I just got this one for Christmas?” I ask, silencing my cell.

“Because you got it from him,” Chance says, pointing at the open door where Rah walks in with Nigel behind him. What the hell is he doing here? Doesn’t he know he’s on the student roster at Westingle High, not South Bay?

“Oh shit,” I say under my breath. The last thing I want is an argument. I have too much work to do and I need to keep my head clear for work this afternoon. Mama and Netta have a long list of things for me to do at Netta’s shop because they’re busy with religious duties these days, and I’m grateful for the extra cash. I still haven’t got completely back on point financially because of all the time I took off studying for the Advanced Placement exams, but I’m getting back on my game.

“What’s he doing here?” I ask aloud like I don’t already know the answer to the question. As usual, Rah wants to apologize for his rude-ass behavior.

“Jayd,” Nigel says, waving for me to come over. And why isn’t he in class, too? It must be nice being an athlete and enjoying all the perks thereof.

“I’m busy, in case you didn’t notice the classroom you just walked into.” I do my best to ignore them both and return my attention to Chance, who is busy texting. Fine. In the meantime I’ll pick out my own scene to perform by myself.

“Jayd, it’ll only take a minute,” Rah says, pleading with those brown, puppy dog eyes that always get him his way—but not this time. I’m too pissed at the disrespect he showed me yesterday and at the fact that he didn’t heed my warning. Between Sandy and me, I am obviously the more trustworthy, but Rah still brushed me off because I’m not Rahima’s mom and never will be, no matter how much I care about her.

“You really to need to handle him, Jayd, before Mrs. Sinclair comes back in here and has a fit,” Chance says, putting his BlackBerry back in its holder on his pants buckle. “Come on, you know I’ve got your back.” Chance rises from his seat and reaches his hand out for me to take. His Rolex watch dangles loosely on his thin wrist, reminding me of his mother’s matching watch. I wonder if she’s told him the truth about his adoption yet? I love my boy and I hope he finds out about his black blood sooner than later. Thanks to my dreams, I know more about my friend than I want to. I don’t know how much longer I can keep a secret this big.

“I guess you’re right,” I say, reluctantly rising from my spot and heading toward the front door. Students are outside, loudly rehearsing their scenes and talking in general. I love drama class. It’s the most expressive elective offered at this school, and I fit right in here, most of the time.

“Thank you,” Rah says, hugging me tightly, knowing I’ve already forgiven him when he is so wrong.

“For what?” I ask, pushing him away. “I came out here to warn you before our teacher comes back in the room. Everyone ain’t as cool as Mr. Adewale,” I say, reminding him and Nigel that the only black male teacher up here, who just happened to referee an off-campus game for them months ago, is about as good as it gets. All the other teachers couldn’t give a shit about a hall pass when it comes to black male students roaming around campus.

“I know you’re pissed about what happened last night and I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?” Rah asks, throwing his hands in the air like this bull isn’t his own making. “Sandy should’ve never seen us kissing, Jayd. I knew that would set her off, but she wasn’t supposed to be there, I promise.” I look from Rah to Chance, who looks shocked by Rah’s confession. Jeremy is Chance’s best friend, and I know he’s wondering if Jeremy knows about Rah kissing me—which he doesn’t, and I need to keep it that way.

“First of all, you snuck in a kiss on the neck; I did not kiss you back,” I say, vindicating myself from his implication of joint responsibility. I want to make it very clear I had nothing to do with his affection. “And second of all, I’m more pissed at the fact you didn’t listen to me when I gave you a warning about your crazy-ass baby-mama.” I look around, noticing we’re causing a scene of our own.

“Okay, I know you were worried about Rahima and I respect that, Jayd, really I do. But I have to be able to trust her own mother with her well-being—otherwise I’d go crazy worrying about baby girl all the time.” Rah looks around like he’s expecting the school security to come and grab him at any moment, as well he should. Hall pass or not, if we get too loud they’ll gladly snatch us all up.

“And that’s fine with me because I couldn’t care less. I’m out of it,” I say, turning around to head back inside. We have a good twenty minutes left in fifth period and I want to use it productively, not out here arguing with Rah.

“Jayd, you don’t mean that. You know you’re Rahima’s godmother as far as I’m concerned, and she loves you, too.”

“Good try, but I’m not falling for your bull anymore, Rah. I’m out.” Before I can get away, Rah takes my hand, forcing me to turn around. Chance looks up and sees what I see: Jeremy turning red at the sight of Rah and me holding hands. Oh shit.

“What’s up, man?” Jeremy asks, stepping up to Rah and claiming my hand in his own. I’ve never seen Jeremy look so pissed before. How did he know what was going on all the way down here? Jeremy’s chemistry class is on the other side of campus in the science hall. Because the theater department is at the bottom of the massive campus, no one ever comes down here without intending to. Maybe that’s who Chance was texting a moment ago.

“We were just talking,” Rah says, reluctantly letting me go. He knows he has no right to claim me, especially not with my new man standing eye to eye with him, obviously ready to do whatever’s necessary to make his point clear.

“Please don’t let me stop you. What are we talking about?” Jeremy asks, holding my right hand in his while he wraps his left arm around my shoulder, completely engulfing me in his protective embrace. Nigel looks at us in disbelief. I bet he never thought he’d see the day Rah had to let me go to a white boy. Oh well. I’ve got ninety-nine problems and a fool ain’t one—anymore.

“Never mind,” Rah says, backing down for the moment. He looks at the gold necklace and charm he planted on me last night and I instinctively begin to play with the heavy ankh. “I just wanted to reiterate how sorry I was that I missed your birthday and I hope you like your gift. Peace.” Rah nods his head in Chance’s direction and gives Jeremy a hard look, which Jeremy returns. They were never very fond of each other, but I was hoping they would at least be able to grow to tolerate one another. I think that ship has permanently sailed.

“I’ll holla at y’all later,” Nigel says, following Rah back toward the parking lot. Nigel’s supposed to be at basketball practice right now. But because football is his first love, he slacks off in B-ball a lot, unlike KJ and his crew, who live for this season. They made it to the finals and will be ready to take it to the state championships before it’s all said and done. Their only real challenge is Westingle, and that game is coming up soon. Nigel knows all of those cats, too, and I’m sure his loyalty is split, just like it is between his newfound friends here and his old friends there, like Rah.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jeremy asks, relaxing his stance a little bit now that Rah’s disappeared off campus.

“Do you want the short version or the long one?” I ask, looking at Chance’s watch for the time. Neither Jeremy nor I wear watches, and I left my phone in the room with the rest of my belongings.

“Whichever one includes Rah giving you this,” Jeremy says, flicking the gold charm with his middle finger. “Why didn’t you tell me he gave this to you?” I look into Jeremy’s magnetic blue eyes and wish I had the opportunity to chill his mind out and tell him what all went down last night, but there’s no time. The bell’s about to ring and we all have to get back inside.

“I was going to, but I didn’t know what to say.” Chance makes a sound indicating I’m not being completely honest and he’s right. But damn, did he have to sell me out like that?

“You don’t know what to say? Since when? I’ll let it slide for now, Lady J, but we need to talk about this.” Jeremy kisses me on the nose before jogging back up the hill.

“What the hell, Chance?” I ask, socking my homeboy in his arm. “I didn’t tell Nellie about your little date at the beach last weekend. What the hell are you trying to do, break us up?”

“No. The exact opposite. If there’s nothing to hide then spill it. Otherwise it’s just lying, and I know Jeremy. If there’s one thing he can’t tolerate, it’s being lied to for whatever reason.” I know he’s right and I didn’t really do anything, but I still feel guilty. “Tania lied to him about being pregnant, and then when he finally did find out, the bitch was already engaged and making baby plans without him. He’s never gotten over it and won’t. I know this isn’t as serious, but it’s still a lie, Jayd, and you need to clear it up—fast.” We walk back into the room and take our seats with the rest of the class. Mrs. Sinclair has reentered the room, talking with the groups individually about their casting and scene choices, which Chance and I are still mulling over.

This isn’t like me, and I’m the last person I want to remind Jeremy of his ex-baby-mama, Tania. The only thing that makes his situation more dignified than Rah’s is money. Otherwise, I’m sure they’d have similar issues. Maybe I can explain it to him tonight after work. But right now, I have to get back on my grind and let the energy pass because, as of now, Jayd Jackson is officially back on her shit. And that starts with choosing the best audition monologue and scene.

Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that, my mom says, interrupting my reading. And don’t worry about your audition, Jayd. I don’t think you’ll go blind again by playing a blind woman. It doesn’t work like that, and besides, what are your jade bracelets for? Use them and have faith. ’Bye, my mom says, checking out of my head.

Maybe everything will be okay and I’m tripping for nothing. Still, I’m not sure if this part’s for me, but I’ll try it out for size. If I never challenge myself—even when it’s not necessarily my thing—I’ll never grow, and that’s what I’m here for. I love my hoods, but I don’t want to stay in Compton or Inglewood forever. College is my preferred way out, and doing as many notable activities in high school as possible is my way into the University of West LA. So if I have to try out for tainted lead roles or drink expensive tea at debutante meetings all day long to get in, I’m on it.