Can't Stop the Shine

  Kalia was feeling a little better, but she knew that Carter hadn’t spoken yet. Big Spinner and Lola were tenderizing her, she thought, and Carter was waiting to swoop in at the end for the kill.

  “Yeah, the end was great, like Lola said, but you might want to try some tai chi, some hot tea, something to relax before you perform next time.” Big Spinner chuckled. “What do you think, Carter?”

  Carter crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair and cocked his head to one side, looking intently at Kalia.

  “I think the girl’s got some talent. You can sing, you can sing,” he said finally. Kalia let out the breath that she’d been holding for at least a minute. “But, I also think that Fire’s gonna want someone who is cool under pressure, and you’re just not there. That’s something you need to work on. No one wants to sign someone who looks like she might run off stage if her mommy’s not there to clap for her. Are you feeling me, Kalia?”

  He then turned to the audience. “We don’t want any scared little girls, do we, folks?”

  The long, loud, collective “No,” nearly knocked Kalia back a few feet.

  “Oh, I think you’re being a little hard on her,” said Lola.

  Carter continued staring at Kalia with raised eyebrows. “Well?” he said.

  “Thank you for your honesty. I’m sure it will help me in the future,” she said clearly, praying they didn’t hear the attitude in her voice.

  “I hope so. Thank you very much. Good luck and God bless,” Carter said, waving her off.

  As she walked off the stage, waving and fake-smiling at the audience, she heard Big Spinner saying, “If she’d just moved around a little bit. I mean I thought she’d caught her heel in a rut or something. She didn’t move an inch.”

  Lola replied, “Oh, everybody has a little bit of stage fright sometimes.”

  “Frightened singers don’t get signed,” dismissed Carter. “All right, who’s next? I can’t hang out here all night. Let’s get a real powerhouse out here. Isn’t someone going to give that Asha some competition?”

  Backstage, people were patting Kalia on her shoulder and telling her “It’s okay,” and “Good job,” as she passed through what felt like a gauntlet of pity. Nodding left and right, she kept her strained smile and walked straight to the dressing room. Others continued to come by and congratulate her on how well she took Big Spinner’s jabs and Carter’s critique.

  She was wiping off her makeup in the mirror when she saw Mari come in the dressing room behind her. Their eyes met, and Kalia thought she would cry—until she saw Sean and Malcolm with her. All of the sudden her sockets were dry. For some reason, she didn’t want Malcolm to see her come undone.

  “Hey, babe. You did great,” he said, walking up to her and kissing her on the back of the neck.

  “How would you know? You just got here five minutes ago,” said Mari.

  Kalia still hadn’t turned around. She looked in the mirror from Mari to Malcolm, more hurt registering on her face.

  “I saw almost all of it,” said Malcolm, glaring at Mari in the mirror.

  “You didn’t sit down until Carter was doing his thing,” said Mari. Seeing Kalia’s face, she added, “Sorry, K. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I thought you did great.”

  “Yeah. You were really good,” said Sean. “I’m sure hardly anybody noticed that you didn’t move around too much.”

  “Shut up, man,” said Mari, reaching up to slap Sean in the back of the head.

  Then it was quiet in their little corner, everyone realizing that Kalia hadn’t said a word.

  “What’s up, K?” said Mari, pushing Malcolm out of the way to hug her sister from behind. “You did good. For real. You know I wouldn’t tell you so if I didn’t really mean it.”

  Kalia spun around, almost knocking her sister over. “Well, why is everybody trying so hard to convince me then?” she asked, looking from Mari to Sean and finally to Malcolm.

  “Look, so you had a little case of the nerves, baby? That happens to everybody,” said Malcolm, taking her hand.

  She snatched it back. “How would you know? You weren’t even here to see me sing.”

  “I said I saw the whole thing. I was standing in the back while you sang,” Malcolm swore.

  Kalia just looked at him.

  “I mean I may have missed like the first verse or something,” he said, turning his back on her and looking around the dressing room. “See, I had this big meeting with this guy who said he could hook me up with a deal. We were in the studio, just making these beats, right, and…”

  Malcolm stopped talking when he saw tears well up in Kalia’s eyes.

  “You knew how important this was to me,” she said, standing up, “and you promised you’d be here.”

  “You don’t understand, K,” said Malcolm. “You don’t know who this guy is. He’s really connected.”

  “So what?” said Mari, coming to her sister’s aid. “You should have been here.”

  Malcolm tried to explain. “Kalia, you’ll understand when you’re good enough to get your deal. People will just start hooking you up with other people and—”

  “He is kinda right,” Sean agreed. “When you tighten your skills up, the right people just kind of appear, especially if you’ve got your vocals, your performance and all that.”

  “Shut up, both of you. Just shut up,” shouted Mari. “This isn’t helping Kalia. Can’t you see she’s upset?”

  “So neither one of you thinks I’m ready?” Kalia asked Sean and Malcolm. “You don’t think I can win, do you?”

  “Truth?” asked Sean.

  Kalia nodded.

  “Well, one day, but not right now,” he said. “You had stage fright pretty bad, and that’s something most performers have worked out at this stage.”

  Kalia looked at Malcolm.

  “Baby, I don’t know what to say,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “I do,” said Mari. “Get out. Just leave. Both of you.”

  She pushed them both in their chests. Tiny as she was, neither moved an inch. Kalia just turned and sat down in the chair and looked back in the mirror. Sean mumbled an apology and walked toward the exit. Malcolm put his hand on Kalia’s shoulder, but she shrugged it off, looking away. He looked to Mari, who pursed her lips and shook her head. Looking around like he was lost, Malcolm gave up and walked out of the dressing room, too.

  Mari sat in the chair beside her sister and reached over to smooth her hair back.

  “Do you want me to stay back here with you? I can. No problem.”

  Kalia looked at Mari, thinking how great it was to have a sister who was there for her, but she really wanted to be alone.

  “No, Mari,” she squeaked. “Go ahead. Go on back out there. I’ll be fine. The show’s almost over anyway.” She looked back in the mirror. “Yep, it’s almost over, then we can go home, and I can forget I ever entered this mess.”

  “What if you make the finals though?”

  “You gotta be kidding me,” said Kalia, turning to face her sister. “There is no way in hell I’m going to be chosen as one of the final eight.”

  “K, it was your physical performance that was just okay. Your vocals were on. You shut it down vocally.”

  “Well, you need the whole package to win.”

  “I guess, but there were lots of other contestants who couldn’t sing as well as you even if they had great stage presence. Plus, it’s easier to teach a person stage presence than it is how to sing,” said Mari, standing.

  “I guess.”

  “Look, don’t worry about it. You’re gonna make it to the finals, and we’re gonna use all the time between now and the big show in March to get you some help with your presentation.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Kalia, eyeing her sister. “It will be a miracle if I happen to make it to the finals.”

  “Quit it. Just quit it,” she demanded. “You’re gonna make the finals, so put that makeup back on and get read
y to go out there so we can clap for you. G’on brush your shoulders off, K. Okay?”

  Kalia nodded.

  “Naw, I wanna see it. Brush your shoulders off.”

  Kalia wiped her hand across her shoulder.

  “Good,” said Mari, getting up and starting toward the exit. “And promise me you’re going to put that makeup back on.”

  Kalia almost smiled at her sister. “So who’s bossy now?” she said.

  “I knew if I hung around you long enough I’d pick up some of your bad habits,” said Mari.

  Kalia did smile this time. Mari grinned back and left the dressing room.

  Forty-five minutes later, Kalia felt her armpits moisten as she listened to the host call the name of the sixth contestant who’d made the finals. There were only two spots left. She was in the wings with fourteen other contestants who were in varying states of emotional distress. She crumpled the red crushed velvet curtain in one hand behind her back. Somehow squishing something made her feel slightly better.

  “The seventh contestant who will perform in the Who’s Got That Fire? final iiisss…Miss Asha Wright,” announced the host.

  Cool as a cucumber, Asha floated on stage and stood next to the sixth contestant who Kalia thought was grinning so wide she could have swallowed her ears. This was it, she thought, squeezing the curtain with the other hand. She looked at the other contestants around her. Some were pacing, others were crying and holding hands. Kalia realized at that moment that she wanted to become a finalist more than anything else in the world.

  “And the last contestant who will perform in the Who’s Got That Fire? final iiisss…Miss Kalia Jefferson.”

  Kalia didn’t move. She stood in the wings, clutching the curtain. A stagehand ripped her hands from the curtain and shoved her onto the stage. Nearly stumbling, she recovered just in time to miss bumping Asha, who looked over at her like she was a minor annoyance. This time Kalia’s smile was real, and it was brighter than all the stage lights in the theater.

  Chapter

  9

  After the show, Mari insisted on everybody going to Houston’s for a celebratory dinner. Everybody was game, except Malcolm, who told Kalia he’d promised to hook back up with his record label connection after he’d dipped out of the studio earlier to see her performance. Kalia was in such a good mood about winning that it really didn’t hit her until she and Mari were in her room around one in the morning how angry she was with Malcolm.

  “How could he just squeeze me in like that? This was like the most important night of my life,” said Kalia, lying across her bed.

  “I know, right?” agreed Mari. “Men can be so stupid.”

  “They sure can.”

  “I mean they’re either lying or selfish or cheating or something.”

  “Yep, yep,” said Kalia, getting up. “I’m going downstairs to get something to drink.”

  Mari followed her, continuing her tirade.

  “What gives them the right to think that they can treat us any old way?”

  “Most of them are just conceited for no good reason. I mean Malcolm really isn’t all that,” said Kalia, staring into the refrigerator. She stuck her head all the way in. “I have no idea what I want.”

  “Neither is Qwon,” said Mari, staring in the refrigerator, too.

  “You know what I think,” she said, turning to Kalia.

  “What?”

  “I think we should have a beer.”

  Kalia looked at Mari.

  “Look, you had a long, hard exciting day. You’re almost grown, and everybody else in the world drinks. One beer isn’t going to hurt us,” said Mari. “It’ll probably make us feel a whole lot better. Plus, Ma and Daddy are knocked out. We could drink a whole six-pack and Daddy would never know. We’ll just replace what we drink. He’s got a ton out in the pantry.”

  “I am not drinking a six pack of beer, Mari,” said Kalia sternly.

  “Oh, but you’ll drink at least one, huh?” asked Mari, leaning over and grabbing a cold one from inside the refrigerator door. “Shoot. We gotta celebrate you getting into the finals, too.”

  That last excuse did it for Kalia. “Yeah, I guess one is cool. I probably need one to calm my nerves,” she said, getting herself a beer, too. “I’m all hyped up over getting into the finals. Can you believe I made it in?”

  “Of course I can—I predicted it, remember?” said Mari, popping open her beer and then Kalia’s. They stood in the middle of the kitchen, toasted to her success and took sips.

  “Not bad,” said Mari, smacking her lips.

  “Stop acting like you’ve had a beer before.” Kalia smirked.

  “I have.”

  “Where? No, when?” asked Kalia, taking another swallow.

  “Don’t you worry about it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “So what’s up with this Malcolm guy? Do you really like him or what?” Mari asked, leaning against the counter.

  “I did until he turned into a selfish asshole tonight.”

  “Well, that’s dudes for ya. If you want to be with a man, then you’ve got to get used to the crap that comes with them.”

  “How do you know?” asked Kalia.

  “I just know,” said Mari, gulping down her beer.

  “Well, I liked Malcolm at first. He was mature, cool and creative. I mean his knowledge of music is incredible, but now, I just don’t know.”

  “It must be cool dating a college man, though.”

  “I guess,” said Kalia, finishing her beer. “Right now I just wish he would pay me some more attention.”

  “I’m almost finished with this one,” said Mari, turning up her can. “Let’s split another one.”

  “Okay, and that’s it,” Kalia said, reaching into the refrigerator and popping open another beer.

  By the time Kalia had finished telling Mari all of the things that had attracted her to Malcolm, they’d downed that beer and opened another. Mari telling Kalia about her hurt feelings over Qwon had them finishing a fourth beer, so they decided to knock their father’s six-pack out with one more apiece.

  “Yeah, men are just dogs,” said Mari, trying to make a jump shot in the wastebasket with one of her cans. She wobbled a bit.

  “But why?” asked Kalia, slumping over on the kitchen table. “Why do they have to be such animals? Why can’t they act like human beings?”

  “You answered your own question, silly,” slurred Mari, shaking Kalia by the shoulders.

  “I’m no sillier than you, and you’re drunk.”

  “Not by myself,” said Mari. “I bet you can’t stand up and walk a straight line.”

  “I can so,” said Kalia, rising quickly and knocking two cans to the floor. They clashed loudly against each other.

  “Shh, shh, shh.” Mari giggled, pushing her index finger to her lips.

  Kalia flopped to her hands and knees and tried to reach the cans under the table.

  “You look like the dog now,” said Mari, continuing to giggle.

  “Shut up and help me get these damn cans.”

  “Why should I? You dropped them,” sang Mari, exaggerating a tiptoe dance across the kitchen.

  Kalia had both the cans and was getting up when she bumped her head underneath the table, knocking the whole thing over and causing such a commotion that Mari ran into the dining room.

  “Woo-wee,” she said, peeping around the corner. “You are gonna get it. I know Daddy heard that.”

  “You’re drinking, too,” said Kalia, sprawled out on the floor. She wanted to get up, but her head was banging and the room was spinning.

  By the time their father appeared in the kitchen, Kalia had dragged herself back into a chair, and Mari was still peeping in from the dining room.

  “Mari, get in here,” he said. “I can’t believe you all are drinking my beer. Get upstairs to bed. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

  Kalia stood and swayed toward the steps. Mari kept up her exaggerated tiptoeing until her father’s st
ern face made her walk upright.

  The next thing Kalia knew, the sun was shining brightly on her face and someone was talking loudly. She groaned and turned over, covering her head with the sheets.

  “Get up, girl,” said Mari, flopping onto her sister’s bed. “I’m trying to see what my punishment is going to be before I make any plans for the day.”

  “Mmmmmmh,” said Kalia. “Go away.”

  “Daddy said he wanted to see us downstairs right now, so I’ll just tell him you said to go away.”

  “Mmmmmmh,” said Kalia, rolling over. “Close those curtains.”

  “Nope,” said Mari, walking out of the room.

  Kalia dragged herself to the bathroom, wondering how Mari could be so alert when they’d both had the same amount of beer. Face washed and teeth brushed, she appeared in the kitchen to find Mari sitting across from her parents. Her mother was stirring a cup of tea, and her father had his arms folded, waiting. Nobody was speaking. She pulled up a chair and assumed the about-to-receive-a-lecture position she hadn’t sat in in months.

  “So?” said Ronald, looking from one to the other.

  Mari looked out the window. Kalia fidgeted with her sleeve. No one said anything.

  “If someone doesn’t speak up and tell me why a sixteen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old think they can drink alcohol in my house, then you’re both going to be on punishment so long, I’ll be in a nursing home when you get off.”

  Sensing their father was serious, Mari and Kalia started talking nonsensically at once.

  “See, Daddy, I’d had a long day, and we just wanted to cool out and celebrate a bit. We were at home, and it wasn’t like we were drinking and driving or anything,” said Kalia.

  “Yeah, we were safe and sound, drinking at home. Nothing could happen to us here,” echoed Mari.

  Elaine got up and slammed her mug in the sink. The sisters jumped.

  “Do you think that makes it better? You think it’s okay for you to drink because you were doing it at home?” growled their mother. She walked over to Kalia, bent over and put her nose a hair’s length away from her daughter’s.