by A. J. Byrd
Coach Whittaker blows that loud-ass whistle again, and then she and her assistant, Coach Griffin, start calling out names to divide everyone into teams.
“Good God. Now what?” Nicole whines.
“Maybe we could ask if you can sit this out,” I offer and then want to bite my own tongue out.
Nicole just ignores me altogether. I’m starting to wonder if I did or said something to her at lunch that I don’t know about. In the end, she does get out of doing basketball drills, which basically consist of everyone taking turns dribbling around orange cones and then attempting a free throw into the basket. I actually do pretty well. Mainly because Romeo used the same tactic during our one-on-one private lessons.
There I go thinking about him again.
I breeze through the exercise while Nicole flat out refuses to participate. Still, I make all but one basket. This fact continues to astound the coaches.
“Hey, shorty,” Kwan shouts out to me when the class heads toward the lockers.
I stop and glance back over my shoulder.
“You got mad skills, girl,” he says, walking up to me and kicking up a killer smile. I appreciate the praise, but I’m a little weary of boys right now.
“Thanks,” I say and then start to head back off.
“Whoa. Whoa.” He grasps my wrist. “I’m trying to find out how you learned to play ball like that.”
I shrug. “Around.” What’s the point of mentioning Romeo’s name?
“Well. I’m impressed,” he says, smiling into my eyes.
What am I supposed to say to that? “All right. Thanks, I guess.”
Just then Romeo jogs back into the gym and catches Kwan and me standing there talking alone. He freezes, and his stare quickly turns into a glare.
I can’t help turning back toward Kwan, this time with a syrupy smile. “I’ll catch you later.”
Kwan winks. “I’m going to hold you to it.”
I jog off toward the lockers, feeling pretty damn good.
eight
Kierra—Nobody’s Fool
Every idiot knows that it just takes one time to get pregnant. Right?
Nicole’s words keep circling around inside my head like a carousel. Given my track record of having bad luck, I shouldn’t be surprised that my first, painful, and short-as-hell sexual experience could possibly turn me into Maynard Jackson High’s next baby mama.
Deborah. I close my eyes and groan at the thought of having to tell my older sister, the one who doesn’t even want to take care of McKenya and me, that I might be bringing another mouth into her apartment to feed. I might as well start looking for a cemetery plot now. Things at my place are so tense now that I’m afraid the smallest thing will set off an explosion that will land my little sister and me in foster care.
It’s no secret in my neck of the woods that my sister is a stripper at the infamous Champagne Room. She works long nights and sleeps all day. For the past three years when I come home from school, I’m the one who cleans the apartment, cooks dinner and makes sure that McKenya does her homework. Deborah was not too thrilled when I told her I wanted to try out for the freshman cheerleading squad and only agreed to it when I assured her that I would still be able to handle my chores around the house so it didn’t infringe on her beauty rest.
Maybe it would all be worth it if McKenya at least cut me some slack. But no. She seems equally determined to make my life more difficult by whining or just being flat out stubborn. It’s like she doesn’t care or truly believe that Deborah will ever follow through with her weekly, if not daily, threats to abandon us. I, on the other hand, believe Deborah.
After all, she did it once…and for a full week, two years ago. I was twelve and McKenya eight. I kept lying to my baby sister, telling her that Deb was just pulling a double or sleeping—whatever it took not to alarm her that we were on our own. I didn’t even tell Anjenai and Tyler. I was too afraid that they would let it slip and it would get around to some do-gooder adult who would call Family and Children’s Services.
When Deborah came back, I couldn’t tell whether she was relieved or irritated that we were still there. She just went to her room and slept off whatever had her looking like a hot-ass mess. She never said where she was or why she hadn’t been home in a week, and I was too terrified to ask. I just went out of my way to make sure that she didn’t perceive us as being a burden on her. But that was impossible to do sometimes.
And now this.
Tears swell at the back of my eyes while a cloud of doom hovers above my head. I’m so into my private world that I’m not paying attention to where I’m going until I literally ram into someone standing by my locker. “Oops. Sorry.” I finally look up. “Romeo.”
He spreads on a wide smile and I quickly give him a look that says, Don’t even try it.
“Hey, Kierra. You got a minute?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” I give him the cold shoulder and proceed to twirl the combination to my locker.
“Look. I owe you a big apology for what went down that night at Shadiq’s party.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
He blinks like he had expected this bullshit to go down smoothly.
“Yeah. Just what I thought.” I return my attention to my lock.
“For all of it,” he finally says. “I know you won’t believe this, but I really did—do—care for Anjenai.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“You’re right. I was an asshole that night. I messed up. I realize that, but you got to understand that I just had a lot dumped on me at that moment and shit just spiraled out of control before I could wrap my brain around everything that was happening.”
“Uh-huh.” I jerk open my locker and try to hurry and exchange the books I need for my next class.
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Ha!” I cut a look at him. “I like your nerve.”
He’s quiet for a minute. “You’re upset.”
“Gee. You aren’t a dumb as you look.” I slam my locker shut.
He meets my hard gaze. “And I got a feeling it’s more at Chris than it is at me.”
Just like that, he sweeps the floor from under me. “What did you say?”
Romeo glances around to make sure no one is listening to our conversation before easing closer to me. “I know what happened between you two that night.”
I suck in a startled gasp. “He told you?”
The truth is written all over his face, causing my brain to reel in astonishment and embarrassment. “What? Was he boasting about it or something? Did it give you and your boys a good laugh?”
Scalding hot tears rush down my face.
“No. No, nothing like that. Please, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You don’t mean to do a lot of things lately, do you?”
Suddenly, he looks like a deer caught in headlights. Everybody always expects me to just be this bubbly personality all the time. It’s about time that some of them realize that I have claws, too, I think to myself.
“I really understand why you and that asshole are friends now. Birds of a feather flock together.” I start to storm off when he reaches out and grabs me by my arm.
“Whoa. Wait a minute.”
I jerk my arm away. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
A few rubbernecks swivel in our direction.
“What the hell are y’all looking at?” I snap. They turn their heads away while I refocus my attention on Romeo. “You tell that asshole friend of yours that if I hear so much as one word from someone else about that night, I will hunt him down and I’ll cut off that pencil dick that he’s so proud of.” I close the gap between us and stab a finger in the center of his chest. “You got that?”
“Kierra, please, calm down.”
“And as for you. Stay away from Anjenai. You don’t deserve her. You’re better off with your own kind—snak
es.” I finally turn away from him and storm down the hallway with more tears stinging my eyes.
He told them. I can’t believe that he told them.
I wipe tears from my eyes, but it doesn’t do any good because they’re pouring like a waterfall. I make a pit stop in the girls’ bathroom, and wouldn’t you know it, Bianca and Raven are in there holding court over their usual fan base. I can’t believe that I ever thought that they were cool.
I stop dead in my tracks just when their gazes jump up to see who dares to enter their domain. Not wanting to deal with the extra headache, I pivot and storm back out.
“YEAH, YOU BETTER RUN!” Bianca’s squeaky, high-pitched voice yells out.
I stop for two seconds and battle my inner Tyler. Finally, I just let the BS roll off my shoulders. The Redbones are definitely not worth my time. I march down to my next class, mopping my face clean the best I can. I have no idea how I forgot that Christopher Hunter was in my next class. He is already seated at his desk and laughing with a bunch of other knuckleheaded kids. For a fraction of a second, our eyes lock. I throw imaginary daggers straight at his peanut head. In retrospect, that should’ve been my first clue that he didn’t have much to work with downstairs.
The bell rings and I scramble to my seat like everyone else. Anger and hatred continue to roll off me in waves. Honestly, I’m trying to decide whether he’s worth catching a case over. “Pssst!”
The teacher stands and starts going over something. Hell, he could be talking in Latin for all I know. I’m too hot to pay him any attention.
“Pssst!”
I glance around.
“Pssst!”
I glance to my left and see Chris trying to catch Fiona’s attention so that he can pass her a note. She finally glances back and sees what he’s trying to do. I fold my arms and watch this heifer steal another glance at the teacher before swinging her hand back and accepting Chris’s folded note.
My jaw is clenched tight while she unfolds the paper and reads. Two seconds later, she is giggling like those hyenas in The Lion King. She glances back at Chris and he puckers his lips and tosses a wink at her.
No, this boy ain’t doing this shit in front of me.
Fiona grabs her pencil and scribbles something down and then passes it back. I’m sick to my stomach just watching them. By now all I can do is just simmer in my seat. A few minutes later, Mr. Gills is called out of the classroom and we’re left with the instruction to work out the problems written on the board while he’s gone. Of course, the minute he leaves the room, most of the kids bounce out of their seats and start cliquing together.
Chris is immediately leaning all over Fiona’s desk and running his weak game on her. She just giggles and laughs while her overly glossed lips spread from ear to ear. I try to pull my attention from them, but my gaze keeps boomeranging its way back over to them.
“Nah. Nah. I ain’t got a girlfriend,” I hear him say.
Before I know it, I’m jumping up out of my seat, snatching my gear and running up out of there before my eyes spring another leak and I embarrass myself. I refuse to give him that satisfaction.
nine
Anjenai—Ex-Boy to the Next Boy
Where in the hell is Tyler? I can’t imagine her skipping out on basketball practice. It’s one of the few things she likes about this school. Frankly speaking, I think we’re the strongest members of the team.
On cue, the assistant coach blows his whistle and instructs us on a few warm-up exercises. I take another glance around before doing a few stretches and then a couple of laps around the court.
“Hey!” Daniella, a six-foot thirteen-year-old, catches my attention before jogging up next to me. “Where’s your girl at?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen her since this morning.”
“Oh.” She falls silent for a long stretch, and then she asks, “So, what do you think about being on the team so far?”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
Again, she falls silent for a while, and I suspect that I’m being set up for something.
“Sooo are you still getting private lessons from Romeo?”
There it is. I cut my eyes over at her. “Look, if you came over here to pump some gossip out of me, then you’re wasting your time.”
“Damn! I was just asking you a question.” She mean mugs me and then speeds up to start whispering loudly to the group of girls running ahead of me. I roll my eyes and keep my pace. I swear, the girls in this school are working my nerves.
Today’s practice turns out to be no joke. Coach Whittaker works us so hard, my clothes are drenched in sweat and I have muscles talking to me in places I never knew existed. But I do think that I’m improving, if the smile on Coach Whittaker’s face is anything to judge by. The awkwardness I once felt with the fundamentals is quickly fading away.
I’m starting to feel like a natural on the court and even reveling in my ability to be aggressive with the plays the coach calls out. Off court, people tend to dismiss me as the shy and geeky girl between Tyler and Kierra. There’s a little truth to that. Though I do know how to open a can of whupass from time to time. I have to, judging by how many times I have to jump into some foolishness that Tyler is in the middle of.
But on the court it seems like I’ve been given some sort of pass that allows me to work out pent-up frustrations, which I happen to have a lot of lately. Running, shoulder bumping, trash-talking. I feel so good flying down the court that I attempt my first slam dunk. The exhilaration of flying through the air and then watching the ball whish through the net is just beautiful. In that one second, I feel like I’m on top of the world. My scrimmage team roars with applause.
Coach Whittaker blows her whistle, and when I look over my shoulder at her I see her entire face lit up.
“Way to go, Anjenai!” She tucks her clipboard under her arm and joins in the applause. “Excellent play. But I need you to open up and be aware of your teammates and pass the ball. Daniella was wide open. Some of the best plays are the safe plays.”
Was she? Hell, I didn’t even notice, I was so in my own zone. I take the praise/criticism in stride and remind myself to do better. All in all, it turns out to be a great practice. I just hate that Tyler missed it. My scrimmage team is still giving me high fives and pats of congratulations as we head toward the locker room. After a shower and change back into my school clothes, I head toward the football field where the freshman cheerleading squad is practicing.
I wave to Kierra just as she’s detaching from the group. Since we don’t exactly have anyone who can pick us up, on days we have practice we walk the long blocks down to the closest city bus and go through a long series of transfers to ride back to our side of town. “Hey, girl. You about ready to head out of here?”
“Yeah. You already hit the shower?” she asks, frowning.
“Had to. Sorry. But I’ll wait for you while you take yours.”
“Great. ’Cuz I’m not about to get on a city bus smelling all funkdafied.”
Even though she laughs, I get the feeling that something isn’t quite right. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Huh? Yeah. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
I get the sense that she’s lying, but I shrug anyway. “No reason.”
She flashes me another smile. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
When we turn to head back to the gym I almost plow straight into Kwan’s chest. “Oh!”
He smiles. “Sorry if I frightened you.”
I step back and smile myself. He really does look like Trey Songz. “It’s all right. I just need to make sure I look where I’m going.”
His tongue slides across his lips and my heart starts fluttering. I’m surprised by this sudden warming in my lower belly. Those droopy eyes and two dimples are really working for him. “You know, I don’t think that I properly introduced myself today in class. The name is Kwan.”
I glance over at Kierra, and she has a look that is clearly asking for the 411.
“Believe me, I know. I’ve been asking around about you.”
“Oh, great. I’m sure that you got an earful.” Kierra and I start walking back toward the gym, but to my surprise Kwan decides to walk along beside me.
“I got the basics and a lot of gossip, but I’ve never been one to put too much stock in gossip.”
I nod and wonder where he’s going with this.
“I saw that slam dunk you did during practice. You’re on fire when you’re on that court.”
“Thanks,” I say, sounding all shy. Why is this gorgeous guy talking to me?
Kierra jumps into the conversation. “Are you a basketball fan?”
“Yeah. Actually, I have an older brother in the NBA. He plays for the Spurs. Rodney Simmons. Have you ever heard of him?”
“Sorry. I don’t know that much about—”
“What, you play basketball like that and you don’t even watch the game?”
Now I feel like a complete idiot.
“Well. We’ll have to rectify that. Outside of music, my family lives and breathes basketball. You and your girl should come out to my crib. Pre-season games start this week. We can make it a small viewing party.”
Is this a date? “Well…I, um…”
“Don’t worry,” he says, leaning over. “I promise I don’t bite. And like I said. You can bring your girl here.”
“Girls,” Kierra says. “There’ll be a few of us. Is there a problem with that?”
“Nah. Nah. The more the merrier.” He winks.
But it’s his voice I can’t seem to get enough of. It’s smooth, deep and a little husky all at the same time.
“It’s a date,” Kierra answers for me, and I cut my eyes at her for her choice of words. She just shrugs and mouths the word, “What?”
“Good,” Kwan says. “I look forward to it.”
We stop walking just before entering the gym. At that time, I realize that he’s really staring at me. That warm feeling in my stomach is now spreading up to my chest. There’s just something about the way that he’s looking at me that’s turning my mind into mush. I’m completely thrown off guard because it’s just been a couple of weeks since I suffered the biggest embarrassment of my entire life. I’m starting to think I’m fickle or something. How can this new guy be pushing the same buttons that Romeo used to push such a short time ago? What does that mean? And what does it say about me?