by Dream Jordan
“I feel you on that,” I said. “I’ll die right along with you. Man, I hope I can go.”
“What do you mean hope?” boomed Naleejah. “We can’t miss out on this hotness! Rahiem is already bringing a friend … and I told him to make sure his homeboy is a hottie or else don’t bother. Girl, you better tell your parents you’re spending the weekend over at my house or something. They don’t have to know a thing about this party.”
“Well, did you get permission yet?”
“What? I gave myself permission,” said Naleejah. “Now, you better get your lie together and call me back. I want you to stay over tonight because I have to fix your hair and stuff.”
“Man, I don’t know about lying,” I said.
“Then you don’t know about going to this party.”
I paused. “Okay, I’ll call you back and let you know.”
“Call me before eight.”
“Yeah … okay.”
I hung up the phone and sighed. I was divided into three parts: excitement, confusion, and concern. Everything was going so well in the Johnson household. Why should I ruin it for a little party? Well, no … this wasn’t exactly a little party. This party was a main event, taking place in a swanky crib, probably with a big old pool, and there would be good music too, exciting people all around … maybe a Jay-Z sighting? Come on, now. How could I resist?
I couldn’t resist.
No, I had to resist.
Oh, the temptation was killing me.
For a hot second, I thought about Tisha and her “Give Lynn no reason” speech, but then suddenly—I blacked out. When I came to, I was headed to the living room to find Lynn and Ted. Found them sitting on the couch, arms around each other, watching television—how cute. I drew in a deep breath like I was about to jump into deep water and asked, “May I spend the weekend over Naleejah’s house?”
“Kate, why’d you wait till the last minute?” asked Lynn. “You know about the home visit rule.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, suddenly deflated. All of my friends’ homes have to be checked out by my social worker before I can spend the night over there. Oh well.
Abort Mission.
But Ted suddenly leaped to the rescue. “Well, we already met Naleejah’s father. He seems like a good guy.”
Lynn said nothing. Instead, she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Did she smell something fishy? I wondered.
Ted turned to me and asked, “Did you feel comfortable when you were at Naleejah’s house? Nothing crazy going on, right?”
“No, nothing crazy.”
“No other males besides the father living there?”
“No, just Naleejah and her parents.”
Ted turned to Lynn. “Seems okay to me. Besides, Kate knows how to handle herself. She’s responsible. Hasn’t she proven herself to us already?”
Watching Ted fight for me when I didn’t deserve it was really breaking my heart. But you know me and my one-track mind. All I could think was: Party. Music. Having something exciting to tell Felicia when she got back. I let Ted fight till the end.
Finally, Lynn folded her arms and said, “Okay, you can spend the night tonight. But I’m not comfortable with the whole weekend until we authorize a home visit.” Lynn twisted around to face Ted and said, “You know I like to do things by the book.”
Oh no.
The party was on Saturday, not Friday! How could I fix this?
I purposely lingered in the living room, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to figure something out. Ted chuckled at me. “Why are you standing there like a statue?”
“Um … I was just wondering if Saturday would be better because … um, well, Naleejah mentioned she might want to go to Prospect Park for a bird-watching tour.”
“Now, that sounds like fun,” said Ted. “Whatever you decide. Just don’t stand there blocking our TV set!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, moving out the way.
Ted had no idea how sorry I was feeling right now.
Lynn piped in, “On Sunday, be back here no later than ten o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock at night?” I asked incredulously.
“Of course not, silly.” Lynn chuckled. “In the morning, bright and early, so we can have breakfast together.”
Wow, I thought. This was the first time Lynn was suggesting a Sunday breakfast together. Like a real family. How nice of her. But if Lynn only knew what I was about to do, I’d have some serious egg on my face.
I went into the kitchen and called Naleejah. In a robotic voice, I said, “Okay, I can spend the night on Saturday. Talk to you later.” But Naleejah, forever clueless, kept repeating, “Why not spend the night Friday too, why not spend the night Friday too?” She sounded like a demented parrot. Finally, I had to hang up on her. I think she got the hint because she didn’t call me back. Later on that night, I snuck downstairs and called her again, explaining everything. All she said was, “Dang, your foster parents are mad strict.” All I said was click.
* * *
On Saturday, late in the afternoon, I packed my overnight clothes and all of my guilt inside my brand-new knapsack. When I got to Naleejah’s house, she had already turned her bedroom into a bootleg nightclub. She had a forty-ounce sitting on her dresser, music pumping loud from a raggedy boom box sitting in the corner, and she was dancing up and down her bedroom.
I put my knapsack down and did a vicious booty shake just to join in the festive mood. Naleejah stopped in mid-wiggle to stare at me. “Wow, you ain’t that stiff after all! Work it out, girl!”
“See? I keep telling you not to sleep on me.” I dipped down low, dropping it like it’s hotter than hot, just to emphasize my point. “I gets down, okay?”
“Ohhh, you just ripped it!” exclaimed Naleejah, clapping wildly. “You ain’t no joke.”
“You already know,” I said.
Just then, I heard Naleejah’s parents. Front door banged open, then slammed shut.
“Oh brother,” said Naleejah. “I didn’t think they were coming home so soon. They better not hold us up for no bull.”
I expected them to stick their heads into the bedroom to say hello or something, but they didn’t bother. This was a relief to me. I didn’t want Naleejah getting into it with her parents. I was ready to party like a rock star. No stopping us now.
* * *
At nine o’clock, Naleejah and I started getting ready. Naleejah flat-ironed the mess out of my head; I smelt my hair burning. But guess what? My do was blazing when she was through. Then I slipped into Tammy’s tight fire-engine red tank-top dress, which had straps made of lace, very unique and banging. My hot leather sandals added the sexy touch. Whew, I was looking like fire.
After granting approval of my appearance, Naleejah went to take a long shower. Thirty minutes passed, and I started getting antsy. I knocked on the bathroom door. Naleejah fumbled with the knob, and then cracked the door open. “Yeah, what?”
“Are you okay in there?”
Naleejah swung the door open wider and stood in front of me with one brown eye and one hazel. She looked mad scary.
Before I could get out the words, Naleejah said, “Calm down, I wear color contacts. And I just dropped one. I can’t find it anywhere.”
“You want me to help you find it?” I asked, about to step forward. But Naleejah pushed me back. “No, no!” she exclaimed. “You might step on it. I’ll keep looking. Go back in my room, please?”
I went back inside of Naleejah’s bedroom. I plopped down on her bed, letting the shock of another bogus first impression wear off. Naleejah had a bag full of tricks, huh? Twenty minutes later, she emerged with a pair of hazel eyes and a stupendous outfit. She wore a sexy jean miniskirt that looked more like a belt, and a bright pink tube top that she constantly had to pull up or else she’d be flashing folks. Her hair was hanging down in picture-perfect spiral curls. And she was stepping lively in open-toe high-heel black sandals. I’m telling you, the girl was fierce.
I raised my hand to give her a high five, but she grabbed my hand in midair and examined my bare and stubby nails. Her own nails were painted hot pink, and her toes were matching too.
“We’ve got to do something about this,” Naleejah said, shaking her head. She dragged me over to her dresser and started fumbling through a tray crammed with lipsticks and nail polishes.
“Pick your color,” she said.
I picked up a light pink bottle of polish.
“No, no, that’s not right,” said Naleejah, taking the bottle away from me.
Okay, so why’d you ask me, then?
“You look better in red,” said Naleejah as she picked up a curvy bottle filled with scarlet red polish. She led me out to the kitchen table. As soon as we sat, she grabbed my hand and started painting my nails with expert precision. Homegirl was multitalented. She had it going on in the whole beauty department.
After my nails were done, Naleejah poured us some nice cold ice tea. We were sipping tea and chilling at the table until Mrs. Mackie tottered into the kitchen. Was she drunk? She took one look at me, and her mouth dropped open, like she had just seen a ghost. Then her lips curled into a tight snarl. “Why is she wearing Tammy’s dress?” she suddenly demanded, pointing at me.
“She needed something to wear,” Naleejah stuttered.
“I thought you gave those clothes away,” said Mrs. Mackie with her hands on her hips.
“But you know I wanted to keep them,” said Naleejah, her voice shaking like an earthquake.
Mrs. Mackie shook her head. “Just like your sister. Lying and scheming. That’s why she’s not here today.”
Now Naleejah was crying, and I was feeling so confused and uncomfortable. Stuck in the middle. What was going on?
“You do the stupidest things sometimes,” said Mrs. Mackie. “I told you to get rid of those damn clothes.”
Naleejah jumped up from the table and leaned over it. “But Dad was right there—he said it was okay to keep them. He even brought the rest of the clothes to Kate’s house, so what the F are you talking about!” Naleejah swiped the tears from her eyes.
“What did I tell you about cursing at me?”
“Dad said it was okay to keep them,” Naleejah cried.
“And did he say it was okay for your friend to be prancing around in your dead sister’s clothes?” Mrs. Mackie yelled back. “When are you going to face it, Bertha? Your sister’s gone. You can’t bring her back.”
My bottom lip hit the floor.
Naleejah’s fist hit the table. “You’re full of it, Ma. You wasn’t worried about her when she was here, but now you want to sweat her clothes?”
“Don’t make me have to slap you.” Mrs. Mackie stepped forward, and Naleejah stepped back, grabbed my hand, and we fled from the kitchen.
“Don’t run away from me while I’m talking to you!” Mrs. Mackie yelled at our backs.
My skin began to itch. I felt queasy. Sick.
* * *
Naleejah locked the door to her room and said, “I swear my mother is so stupid. I hate her. That’s why my dad is always trying to be out this house—to get away from her evil butt. That lady is evil for no reason.”
I sat on Naleejah’s bed, stunned.
Naleejah must’ve read the confusion in my face because she sat next to me and in a fast voice said, “Tammy got killed a year ago. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time.… One of her friends was in a gang, and she stopped to talk to her at the corner store.… They caught Tammy by mistake.… She was my oldest sister … my only sister, and my mother has the nerve to tell me what to with her clothes?”
Naleejah started crying again. I put my arm over her shoulder, not knowing what to say. I felt so bad for her, really. Although I never had a sister, I could relate. If anything happened to Felicia, I would go out of my mind; they would have to take me away to the crazy house. Poor Naleejah. I wished I could do something to make her feel better.
I rubbed Naleejah’s shoulder and told her it was going to be okay. She seemed to stiffen at my touch, so I quickly removed my hand.
We sat in silence for what felt like an hour, but really it was only ten minutes. I know because I was staring at her alarm clock the whole time.
Naleejah suddenly jumped up from her creaky bed and began to walk up and down her room, as if she forgot I was still there. Then she sat back down and looked over at me, suddenly flashing a fake smile. “I’m sorry about that,” she said.
“No, don’t be sorry.… Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay,” chirped Naleejah. “We’re still going to have us some fun tonight!”
Well …
I was glad Naleejah was back to bubbly, but I was not okay. Now that I knew the real deal, I couldn’t happily rock a dead person’s clothing—no way. And I wasn’t about to go to the party butt-naked, so what could I do?
“Kate, what’s wrong?”
“Um, Naleejah … I’m sorry, but I don’t feel right wearing this dress knowing—”
“It’s all right, I understand,” Naleejah butted in. “But I don’t know if I’ll have anything else to fit you.”
She went into her closet and started digging. Finally, she came up with a yellow T-shirt that read, I’M SEXY and a super-short white tennis skirt—both stretchable for my thickness. The T-shirt strained against my chest, making me look boobalicious, and the skirt barely reached the bottom of my butt. Yeah, I could definitely work with this. I was bound to gain interest from some beautiful boys while rocking this outfit. Charles could eat my dust.
* * *
At ten o’clock, we were hooked up and ready to go. Rahiem was supposed to have picked us up by then. Instead, we got a phone call from him at eleven. He was on his way—in fact, two blocks way, but his homeboy wasn’t with him. Man, I grumbled, I was going to be the third wheel.
“Don’t think I want to go,” I said.
“Kate, you can’t back out on me now!”
“But I don’t want to be the third—”
Before I could finish my sentence, the doorbell rang. Naleejah hosed us down with some fruity strawberry-smelling perfume, and dragged me out the door with her.
Rahiem had double-parked his sleek black Lexus coupe equipped with rims shinier than the stars in the sky. A fat red curly ribbon hung from the rearview mirror as if the car was a gift to himself. He looked mad young, though. So was he a rapper, or a drug dealer? Then again, it was none of my business.
I turned off my worry-meter and crawled into the backseat of the shiny coupe. New-car smell drifted up to my nose as if to say, Welcome to the good life. So I leaned back, relaxed, and made myself welcome.
Naleejah made introductions, and Rahiem nodded at me in place of a hello. He couldn’t even be bothered to turn his head around to greet me. Okay, forget you too. For the rest of the ride, all I saw of him was the outline of a square jaw and the back of his fat cornrowed head.
After an hour on the crowded Belt Parkway, we finally sailed off a narrow exit and cruised into the suburbs of Long Island. We passed by nice houses, tall trees, and quiet dark streets with no people around. Felt like a ghost town.
When we pulled up in front of a huge redbrick two-storied house, my heart filled with anticipation. I’d never been inside a house this big before. I couldn’t wait to make my grand entrance. But shiny Range Rovers and Lexus coupes were cramming up the block, so there was nowhere to park. I had to wait.
We circled the block twice, but no dice. So Rahiem told us to wait in front of the house, by the curb. As we waited, four dudes dressed in all black were eyeing us from the front porch like a hungry pack of wolves.
Chapter 23
Five minutes later, Rahiem bebopped up to us. “Y’all ready?”
“You know it, baby,” squealed Naleejah.
We followed Rahiem up the walkway made of white rocks. All the while, we were being ogled by the clowns on the porch. They didn’t bother to make room for us when we tried to step inside the ho
use. The tallest of the group grabbed Naleejah’s arm and dared Rahiem to say something. Naleejah forced a grin and yanked her arm away. Rahiem was smart enough to keep his mouth shut since he was outnumbered. When I walked past, the shortest chump out of the group touched my hand and said, “Yes, you are sexy. Can I get with you?”
My “Sexy” T-shirt. Ugh.
I gave him the famous Kate scowl, and he left me alone.
Hip-hop music pounding through the bricks. Once inside the house, the music was even louder, earsplitting. We walked down a long hallway lit by a blue bulb. We passed by a huge kitchen, and I peeked inside and saw a couple of lovebirds cooking up a storm with their lips. The girl was perched atop the kitchen counter with her legs cocked open. And the guy was standing between her legs grinding his butt to the music like a puppy in heat. We stepped inside the living room, and a fog of smoke fell over us. The room glowed yellow light, and bodies were everywhere. On the couch, against the wall, and even sprawled out on the floor. We squeezed into a corner, and all three of us just stood there looking stupid for a while. Then Rahiem and Naleejah started moving to the music, and I stood there looking stupid by myself. I brushed imaginary lint off my skirt every ten minutes just to look occupied. The night was dragging for me already.
I lied to get here?
Naleejah reached out to tap my arm and said, “Now, this is a real party, ain’t it!”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” I muttered. “But where’s Jay-Z?”
I was too pissed for words. I recognized a few peoples from around the way, but I didn’t know anybody, and I didn’t want to. The vibe in the room was unfriendly. Mad shady. Two girls sitting on a black leather recliner were now giving me the stink eye. I had no idea why, and I didn’t want to find out. The chicks looked straight out of a rap video, long weaves and tight short skirts included. Matter of fact, all the girls here looked like that. No one was smiling, everyone had come with their own crew, and you just had to do you. So I stood alone and did me.
“This is not cool,” I complained to myself. I couldn’t complain to Naleejah, because she was too busy up under Rahiem, rump-shaking in front of him, laughing at everything he said, paying me no mind.