by A. J. Byrd
“Did you use protection?” I ask.
“What the…? Did you?” Chris laughs in my face. “How you gonna clock me? You’re the only baby daddy in this group.”
“That’s exactly why I’m checking you. Don’t you think one is one too many?”
“Whoa. Don’t be pinning your problem on me, man. Besides, the way I see it, if these chicks ain’t on birth control, that ain’t our fault.”
Okay, now I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What?”
“C’mon, man,” Chris whines and shakes his head. “These chicks know what we’re about. If they don’t, then that is called bad parenting. Hell, we’re fifteen. We’re supposed to have just one thing on our minds. And frankly, most of these girls are just as horny as we are. Kierra wanted it just as much as I did, but she gonna sit up there and start crying.”
“WHAT?” Shadiq and I thunder.
“Nah, man. I’m just saying.” He shrugs.
“She was crying?” I ask for clarification.
“How was I to know that she was a virgin? She wasn’t acting like one.”
Before I can even think straight I have my boy jacked up against the wall. “Did you rape her?”
“WHAT? Hell, naw, man!”
Everyone in the locker room freezes.
Chris tries to push back. “Let go of me, man. What the hell is wrong with you? How you gonna accuse me of some bullshit like that? That ain’t how it went down.” He glances over my shoulder at Shadiq. “What, you gonna just stand there? Help get him off me.”
Shadiq shakes his head like he doesn’t want any part of this.
“Why don’t you concentrate on answering my questions,” I bark.
Chris looks me dead in my eye and states, “NO. I DID NOT!”
No lie, I’m torn between throwing a punch and letting this slide. But after staring him down for a while, I decide that he’s telling the truth and let him go. I watch as he slides back down the wall.
“Damn, man,” Chris croaks. “What’s up with you? You gonna tell me that you got the hots for Kierra, too?”
“Man, close your mouth and calm your ass down,” I say, turning away. The moment I do I hear him trying to rush me, but Shadiq quickly steps in between us and shoves him back against the wall.
“You heard him. Calm down.”
“Oh. It’s like that?” Chris accuses, looking hurt.
Realizing that Chris needs to save face, Shadiq puts him in a playful headlock. “Chill. Man, you know that we’re just messing with you,” he says with a laugh. “You know we’re boys.”
Everyone relaxes, believing that beef was our way of joking around. He releases Chris, but Chris still doesn’t look too pleased.
“Boys, huh?” His gaze shifts back and forth between me and Shadiq. “You can’t prove that by me.” He grabs his stuff and storms off.
We just watch him go.
“Think he’ll calm down?” I ask.
Shadiq shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. He’ll be all right.” He returns his attention to me. “I did think that you were going to bust one square in his mouth, though.” He laughs. “Just how many chicks are you juggling?”
“Not funny,” I say, rushing to change clothes.
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“Kierra is a nice girl,” I say.
“And she’s Anjenai’s best friend,” he adds.
“So?” I snap.
“I’m just saying.”
I drop the subject and finish changing. When he heads on down to the gym, Shadiq asks, “So what are you and Phoenix going to do?”
“Man, I don’t have the slightest damn idea.”
There’s a slight pause before Shadiq says, “Look. I ain’t trying to start nothing between you and your girl, but—”
I glance over at him. “What? Come on with it.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with this subject. “Do you think that she did this shit on purpose?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how Phoenix is. Don’t you find it a little convenient that she gets pregnant just when you two break it off?”
I laugh. “Entrapment?”
“Yeah. Shit. My dad tells me all the time to never put anything past a female. You know what I’m saying? This stuff happens all the time—especially to athletes. If a girl thinks that you have the potential to be something, she tries to sink her claws in you early. Now I know that sounds like some sexist shit but it’s held up by the facts.”
I just look at him.
“You don’t think that Phoenix isn’t above trying to trap you with a baby?”
I don’t even want to answer that.
“Well, you just marinate in it for a little while.”
We exchange dabs.
In the gym, Coach Whittaker and her assistant are talking to this new dude I ain’t seen before. “Who that?”
Shadiq looks up. “Oh. New kid. Transferred down here from New York. He’s in my homeroom. His dad is in the music entertainment business and starting a label down here.”
“What’s his name?”
“Kwan something or another.”
I note the strange look in Shadiq’s eye. “What? Is the dude a rapper or something?” I ask only because Shadiq’s love outside of football is music. He’s been plotting and planning his debut in the rap game since we were in elementary school. He views anyone who claims that he can rhythm as an enemy.
“I don’t know. He says that he can flow and shit.”
“Oh. So you want a battle.”
“If the boy thinks that he can spit, why not?”
I give the new dude another glance and check out his style and shine. I have to admit the boy is representing. And judging by the way the girls are giggling and pointing he’s going to be some serious competition for some of the fellahs. “Before you think about battling him, maybe you need to find out what his connect is.”
Shadiq frowns.
“I mean, if his dad really is in the business, then maybe he’s your ticket into the game.”
I see my boy processing that information and his whole vibe changes.
“Yeah. Yeah. You may be right.”
The speaker overhead squawks, and Ms. Callaway’s voice booms into the gym. “ROMEO BLACKWELL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE.”
“Ooh.” The kids all snicker and point at me.
I just roll my eyes at their silliness and then start to head out of the gym, but not before catching hold of Anjenai’s glance. The connection is brief before she cuts her eyes away and gives me her back. The trek from the gym to the principal’s office is a pretty long one, and the entire time I’m wondering why I’ve been called out of class. It could be anything, but I have a sinking feeling it’s about the one thing I’m not ready to talk about.
When I enter the front office, Ms. Callaway glances up, pinches her lips together and shakes her head. A variety of kids are seated in a line of chairs against the wall. All of them, no doubt, are just waiting their turn to see the principal. Only I get the pleasure of being waved right through.
“She’s expecting you,” Ms. Callaway says, her voice heavy with disappointment.
Great. They all know.
I shuffle behind the counter and then knock one time on the principal’s door before entering the office. “You wanted to see me, Aunt Thelma?”
Glancing up, she gives me a look that reminds me that I’m supposed to refer to her as Principal Vincent when we’re on school property.
“Come on in here and shut the door,” she says sternly.
No doubt about it. I’m in trouble. Quickly, I shut the door and plant my butt in the chair across the desk from her. For a few long seconds we just look at one another. After a while, I’m wondering if she asked to see me or if it was the other way around and I just forgot or something.
“You did call me out of class, right?”
My aunt pulls in a long breath and exhales even l
onger. “There’s some rather disturbing gossip that’s been brought to my attention.”
My heart sinks.
“It’s about you and Phoenix.”
Now my gaze drops to the floor. More seconds tick by while the room fills with a deafening silence. She’s going to have a long wait if she thinks I’m going to start talking first.
“Is it true?” she finally asks.
“What?”
“Don’t play with me. Don’t you dare play with me. You know exactly what I’m asking you about.”
I squirm in my seat a little bit. “Phoenix is pregnant,” I confirm. It is incredibly hard to spit the words out.
Aunt Thelma sucks in another long breath, but this time she stands up. “Have either one of you told your parents about this?”
“No, ma’am,” I admit.
“Mind if I ask what on earth you’re waiting for?” she snaps.
I glance at her again. “Right now I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. I mean, I just found out about this myself a couple of weeks ago.” I watch my aunt as she pulls in several deep breaths.
“I ain’t going to lie, Romeo. I’m extremely…extremely disappointed in both of you. I expected more from you two.” She starts pacing. “Now, I’m not naive, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t know that you kids are having sex. But I thought that you, especially, knew how to protect yourself.”
My head hangs lower.
“Did you use any protection?”
I swallow hard, still uncomfortable about this subject. “No, ma’am.”
Her pacing behind the desk speeds up. “What were you thinking? How could you be…?” She stops herself and shakes her head. “Is she going to keep the baby?”
“I think so. What? You think that she should get an abortion?”
“NO! I did not say that.” She waves her finger at me. “I’m just trying to find out whether you two have reviewed all your options. I want to know how you feel about this situation.”
The question stumps me. “Truthfully?”
“Of course.”
“Trapped.” Ashamed that’s how I feel, I quickly add, “I know keeping the baby is the right thing to do. This mistake isn’t the baby’s fault. But the way I see it is that we don’t have that many options. I’m not killing my child.”
“I understand and can respect that.” She settles back into her chair. She still has this stunned look of disbelief. Maybe she hoped that I would come in here and laugh at the rumors instead of validating them. I wish I could have.
“Have you been to a clinic?” she asks.
“What for?”
“If you’re sexually active, you need to know your status.”
“What do you mean? I’ve only had sex with one girl.”
“And how many men has she had sex with?”
“One!”
“Are you sure?”
I immediately think about how Phoenix loved to flirt with other guys in front of me in an attempt to make me jealous.
Aunt Thelma reaches for the phone.
“Whoa. Who are you calling?”
“Who do you think?”
“Wait a minute!” I leap out of my seat. “That’s not part of your job.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re not talking as aunt and nephew here. It’s not your job to call my parents and inform them about something that has nothing to with my school life. It’s personal and none of my principal’s business. This is between Phoenix and me. We will talk to our parents when we’re ready and not before.” I’ve never talked to my aunt like this, and I can tell that she’s more than a little surprised.
After another long and loud silence, she finally sets the phone back into the cradle. “All right, then. I’ll respect your wishes on this.”
“Thank you.”
“But you will carry your butt down to the clinic and get yourself checked out.”
That’s something I can agree to. “Yes, ma’am.”
She stands up again and walks around her desk. Before I know it, we’re hugging each other. “Look. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need me. Your principal, your aunt—your friend. I’m always here if you need to talk. Okay?” She cocks her head.
“All right, Aunt Thelma.” We hug it out again and exchange “I love you”s before I head back off to class.
seven
Anjenai—The New Guy
“Where the hell is Tyler?” I ask Nicole after Romeo runs out of the gym. She’d recently transferred into this class after deciding that choir wasn’t for her.
She shrugs her shoulders and hardly spares me a look. “I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, concerned.
“Nothing.” Nicole shrugs again.
I’m not buying it. Something is obviously wrong. I take her by the arm and pull her aside. “Are you sure that you’re all right? You look as if—”
“It’s nothing.” She tries to put on a smile but fails miserably. In fact, she looks like at any second she’s going to burst out crying.
“Nicole.”
“Really, Anjenai. It’s nothing.” She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “Just forget about it. Okay?”
Reluctantly, I nod.
Coach Whittaker blows her whistle. “I want everyone to give me twenty laps around the court. Once you’re done, take a seat on the bleachers.”
Everyone moans and gripes. A few girls are already pulling out doctor’s excuses so they can sit out.
Coach Whittaker rolls her eyes and blows her whistle. “LINE UP!” She turns to the new guy, Kwan. “I know that you didn’t bring a change of clothes, so you’re excused and can sit this run out, if you’d like.”
Kwan shrugs his shoulders and heads on over to the bleachers. I casually check out his profile. He’s cute.
“What grade is he in?” I whisper to Nicole.
“I don’t know. I think someone said that he was a sophomore,” she says dispassionately, which causes me to frown at her again. I really wish that she would tell me what’s bothering her, but if I’m learning anything this year it’s how to stay in my lane. I’m not going to push. She’ll talk to me when she’s ready.
I steal another peek at the new guy and I’m momentarily thrown off my game when I find his gaze locked onto me, as well. He’s actually really good-looking. Kind of reminds me of Trey Songz. Same complexion, pouty lips and mesmerizing brown eyes. And he can dress, too. His lines are so clean he looks like he is brand-new.
“I wonder where he’s from,” I whisper.
Nicole doesn’t say anything. She’s gone back to looking lost inside her own little world.
Coach Whittaker blows her whistle again, and everyone takes off running around the court.
With Nicole being so quiet, I find myself wondering where Tyler is again. Is she really hanging out with Billie Grant’s old crew? What kind of upside-down world am I living in? Then, like a bad habit, my thoughts drift back over to Romeo. Why was he called to the principal’s office or, rather, his aunt’s office? Why the hell do I care?
I suck in a deep breath and instruct myself to stop thinking about him. But that is easier said than done. Just being in this gym keeps bringing back so many memories of that extremely short time together. We dated a few weeks, and it’s probably going to take months to get over him. On the second lap, I cast another look over at the bleachers, and Kwan is still watching me. At least, I think he is.
Beside me, Nicole starts to wheeze.
“Are you all right?”
She pulls in deep gulps of air while she struggles to keep up with me. I slow down to make it a little easier on her. But by the time we get to the fifth lap, she’s just tuckered out.
“It’s all right. You just need to pace yourself,” I advise her while jogging in place.
Nicole bends over, as if the air is sweeter below her waist. “Go on,” she pants. “I’ll catch up.”
“That’s all right. I’ll wait for you
to catch your breath.”
“I said go on,” she snaps.
Surprised, I just blink at her. It’s like watching a kitty cat turn into a ferocious lion. “All right. All right.” I toss up my hands. “I don’t need a brick building to fall on my head.” By the time I make another lap, I pass Nicole taking her time walking. Not willing to risk getting my head bitten off a second time, I just breeze right on past her.
Coach Whittaker blasts her whistle again. “MS. DIX, PICK IT UP!”
Nicole ignores her and continues her slow stroll around the court.
Around the tenth lap, more girls join Nicole in getting their walk on. I quickly make my twenty and then rush over to get some water out of the fountain. By the time I make it over to the bleachers there’s a crush of girls surrounding Kwan.
“So you’re a rapper?” one of the girls asks.
I roll my eyes. Every boy over eight thinks his ass can rap.
“Yeah. I spit a little something.”
Again I roll my eyes, though I’m curious to hear how his husky baritone will sound flowing. It’s different—even a little sexy. The other girls ooh and aah and then try to get him to show off his skills. He acts like he isn’t going to give them a little taste, but c’mon, that false modesty only works for, like, two seconds.
Off beat, what you know about it?
All heat, all street, my dough I be about it
My ears perk up as I recognize KRS-One lyrics. I’m impressed because it tells me he’s more about substance than flash. Then he kicks into something I’ve never heard before.
Everything about you is perfect to me
Your personality and your body, oh, it feels right to me
Our eyes lock.
I hope that nothing ever comes between us
’Cuz this love is like nothing I experienced before
My skin starts to tingle. The girls sitting around him follow his line of vision and give me the stank eye. I finally force myself to turn away, but I can still feel his heavy gaze on me.
Nicole finally stumbles her way over to the bleachers next to me. She’s panting so hard, I’m wondering if she needs medical attention. “I think I got a cramp,” she complains. “It ain’t right for her to have us running around here like this after a lunch period.”