Can't Stop the Shine

  “Well, yes.” Asha chuckled, looking back and forth between her mother and Kalia, like it was obvious to everyone there who wrote the song she sang.

  Kalia could barely contain herself. She turned on her heels and walked toward the door. “Good luck,” she heard Asha shout after her, but she didn’t stop walking. She wound her way around the backstage maze of the Fox, trying to get away before anyone saw her cry. Brushing past Sean, he caught her eye and tried to grab her hand, asking if she was okay, but she eluded his grasp, nearly running down the hall. Damn, she cursed herself as tears ran her eyeliner and mascara down her cheek. She tried several doors before she found one that was open. Looking around she realized she was in the same room she’d escaped to during the preliminary show.

  Contestant number five was wailing on a monitor. Kalia searched around the room for the remote. This time she was able to mute the monitor. She sat on an oversized green couch and took several deep breaths and a tissue from a dressing table to dab her face. She thought about the industry chick from New Year’s Eve. What would she do in a situation like this? she wondered. She’d probably take a few minutes to get herself together and then what? Kalia knew she was too angry to perform.

  She got up from the sofa. First things first, she thought, pacing. I need to calm down. After doing several modified yoga positions, down she sat again, closing her eyes and leaning back against the plush fabric. She didn’t realize she’d drifted off until she awoke, startled. Looking at the screen she saw the contestant before her walking onto the stage. Without a thought she jumped up and retraced her steps through the backstage hallways toward the dressing room.

  Because she’d been crying she wanted to check her face before she went on stage, but as she came around the corner, a stagehand grabbed her. “We’ve been looking for you,” he said, pulling her by the hand toward the stage. “You’re on in like fifteen seconds.”

  “But…but…my face,” she protested as he dragged her into the wings.

  “No time. They’re playing your intro,” he said, shoving a mic into her hand.

  She turned around to walk on stage, and there was JD. “You look so beautiful that you don’t even need luck,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Make it happen, baby. Show ’em what you got.”

  Kalia opened her mouth and started singing into the mic as she floated onstage.

  The audience was on their feet instantly, but Kalia didn’t notice. She was getting in her own zone.

  She flowed into the second verse of “You Don’t Know My Name,” aching soul smoldering in her voice. She’d planned to just move on to the bridge of the long song and the chorus, but something made her walk over to the band. The electric bass player vacated his seat, and she sat perched on the stool.

  She started her favorite part of the song. As many times as she’d performed in rehearsals, she’d only done the spoken word breakdown twice because the producer had told her it was too long. But that night was different. Swaying back and forth, the audience mouthed the words along with her.

  Daring them to stop her midway, she laid her rap on thick and snuck a peek in the wings to see if JD was looking. He winked at her.

  She wailed the ending, releasing all the emotion she had into her finish.

  It took forever before the audience quieted down enough for Big Spinner to say something. Kalia stood tall and waited for his berating.

  “Wow,” he said. “All I can say is wow, wow, wow.”

  Kalia looked at him expectantly.

  “That’s all I got. Really,” he insisted. “Wow.”

  “I second that emotion,” said Lola, clapping, which started the audience’s frenzied applause. “I guess I should say that I second all those emotions because Kalia you went through every one in the book. That had to be one of your best performances ever.”

  “Thank you so much,” Kalia said. She was pleased and encouraged by Big Spinner’s and Lola’s comments, but she knew who really mattered. She turned her attention to Carter and braced herself.

  “Kalia” he said, putting his finger to his lips, “I must admit that was one of the finest showings I have ever seen in an amateur competition. Congratulations. That breakdown put you over the top. Thank you and good luck.”

  Then she was in the wings with JD’s arm around her waist, ushering her past the other contestants who were all giving her big ups. She’d only been in the dressing room a few minutes when everyone she knew and loved rushed in, congratulating her and taking pictures. She looked at her family and friends and started crying. She hugged them all, thinking that whether or not she won, she was proud of her performance and happy she was so loved. As everyone else went back to their seats, except Mari, who stayed backstage, Asha walked into the dressing room.

  “That was pretty good,” she said to Kalia. “You know you went over the time, though.”

  “She was good enough to,” said JD, stepping from behind a rack of clothes.

  Asha looked at JD, then to Kalia and back to JD. “Hey,” she said to him. “What—what are you doing back here? Did you see me sing?”

  “Yeah, you were cool,” he said, grabbing Kalia’s hand. Asha shifted her weight from one flaming red stiletto to another. “Look, they’re about to announce the winners, and I’ve got to be on stage, so I’ma jet.” He kissed Kalia on her cheek and jogged past Asha out the door.

  Asha put her hand on her hip. “So, you’re stealing my man?”

  “You stole my artist,” Kalia said defiantly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Asha said, “because I’m still gonna win.”

  “Really?” challenged Kalia.

  “Really,” said Asha, coming nose to nose with Kalia.

  Mari walked up to Asha and pushed her back. “Move out of the way,” she said, brushing past Asha. “Come on, K. You need to be front and center when they call your name.”

  “I’m out,” said Asha, walking out of the dressing room. “I know whose night it is, and it’s certainly not yours.”

  All of the contestants were crammed into the wings, waiting to see who was going to be called on stage by the announcer. The crowd was amped after JD finished his performance, and Kalia and Mari were clutching hands as the announcer described the winner’s prizes.

  “The third place winner will receive copies of all of the albums Fire has released this year. The second place winner will receive a roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the continental United States and three nights’ accommodations at any four-star hotel, and the winner of Who’s Got That Fire? will receive a one year, one album contract with Fire Records and will go into the studio immediately to record a song and film a video for his first single by summer. We’d like to thank our sponsors, our esteemed panel of judges and of course our audience. And now, for the winners…”

  Kalia thought her knees would buckle. Mari was flexing the hand her sister was holding trying to loosen Kalia’s vicelike grip. JD was in the wings on the other side of the stage, giving her the thumbs-up sign.

  “The third place winner is Brian Price.”

  Kalia breathed deeply as she watched the young man walk out on stage to accept his winnings. She was happy that she wasn’t in third place and hoping she placed at all.

  “The second place winner is…”

  Kalia closed her eyes and prayed in the pregnant pause.

  “Kalia Jefferson.”

  The crowd went into an uproar as Kalia stood in the wings, frozen. Mari leaned over in her ear.

  “Kalia, you got second place,” she said urgently. “You have to go out on stage. Go ahead.” Nudged forward by her sister, Kalia walked out on stage in a daze. She didn’t even remember shaking the announcer’s hand as he congratulated her and ushered her to the second place winner’s place. It hadn’t even hit her yet whose name was about to be called.

  “Are we ready to see Who’s Got That Fire?”

  The crowd was on its feet, thunderously applauding and whistling. Kalia looked at the excited people in the balco
ny and on the floor, wishing she were right down there with them.

  “And the winner of Who’s Got that Fire? iiiissss…Asha Wright.”

  The audience erupted into screams and yells and some boos. Kalia watched Asha glide out on stage like this was a moment for which she’d been preparing all her life. As she got to the announcer, an escort handed her a huge bouquet of white roses, and a small trophy was placed in her hand. Smiling widely, she waved, blew kisses at the audience, then suddenly she snatched the microphone from the announcer. The band was already playing the Who’s Got That Fire? theme music, but she still tried to get out a speech.

  “I’d like to thank my mom, Roxie. You’re right. You’re always Wright. I’d also like to thank all of my competitors tonight. The competition was really rough, and I’d like to especially thank these two on stage with me right now. Winning is nothing if you don’t have great talent to compete against. Thank you all very much.”

  Kalia kept a smile plastered on her face while Asha shouted into the mic over the band, but as soon as the curtains closed, she relaxed her face muscles and clenched her fist. Congratulators engulfed the whole stage, and Kalia certainly had her share. Everyone from stagehands and other contestants to JD and Mari expressed to her how much they thought she should be the one with the Fire recording contract. Accepting the hugs and pats on the back, all she could say to her admirers was “I wish you were right. I wish you were right.”

  Chapter

  16

  Mari sat on the gym steps letting the April afternoon sun warm her face. Initially, she’d been happy to find out that track practice was canceled and Coach Little just wanted to have a meeting with the team, but when he announced who was going to be in what races for the East Moreland relays, she was outdone. Why would he put Asha and me on the four-by-one relay, she wondered, leaning back on her hands and tilting her face farther toward the sky. True, they were the fastest on the team, but they’d never been on the same relay team before. Why now?

  A couple of her teammates trotted down the steps beside her, but she didn’t move. She thought about Asha’s face when Coach Little announced the four-by-one lineup. It had twisted up like someone had dropped a carton of rotten eggs. “I don’t want to pass off to you either,” she said aloud, sitting up and dusting off her palms. Ever since Asha had won the Fire contest, she’d been unbearable—or maybe it had just been unbearable going to school with her.

  Mari had seen her on every local television news show, heard her on the radio, and her picture had been in several Atlanta newspapers. At school, she’d show up to the one class they shared together late, and the teacher would let her slide because of her “I had an interview” excuse. Even the students who really didn’t pay black students much attention flocked to Asha the first few school days after she won. Her classmates ate up every bit of it, barely acknowledging Mari’s existence in the process.

  Normally the snub wouldn’t bother her. She really didn’t care about Asha, but she did care about her sister. Every time Asha would strut by smirking, or every time she saw her picture in the paper or heard her voice on the radio, she thought of Kalia. Even though she’d sworn to her a dozen times she was fine about winning second place, Mari knew her sister was devastated.

  As she drove up to pick up Mari, Kalia had the same blank look on her face she’d had since the contest. Mari put on her well-worn cheery act.

  “What’s crackin’, big sis?” she said, getting into the car.

  “Nuthin’,” said Kalia dryly.

  “How was your day?”

  “All right.”

  “Okaaaay, so did anything exciting happen today?”

  “Nope.”

  Wanting to fill the dead space, Mari got chatty, telling Kalia all about how helping Colby had inspired her to pitch an idea to the East Moreland Review about doing a story on teen pregnancy. Getting no commentary from her sister, she went on about her classes and her track meeting, being careful not to mention Asha.

  Exhausting all of her small talk, she resorted to the radio. “Let’s see what they’re talking about on Hot 103.5,” she said, hitting the button on the radio.

  “That Asha Wright…she’s a stunner, ain’t she?”

  “Yeah, man, and she can blow, too. Don’t let me catch her out one night. It’s gonna be me and her.”

  “Man, please, she don’t want your old butt. You’ll catch a case messin’ with a young hottie like that.”

  “You right. You right.”

  “Well, we caught up with her at Fire the other day, and she told us the type of guy she likes. We got the interview right here.”

  “So what you waitin’ on, pahtnah? Cue it up.”

  Kalia frowned. Mari reached to punch another station, but Kalia pushed her hand away.

  “So you laid ’em out down at the Fox last week, huh?”

  “I tried to. I was kinda nervous.”

  “You didn’t look nervous, especially in that dress. I mean that was hot. Does you mama know her baby is out there like that.”

  “My mama picked that dress out. You know I had to get fire on ’em.”

  “Yeah, well all of Atlanta knows now that you got that fire.”

  “Thanks, Rob. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate all the support you’ve been giving me since the contest. It means so much that I’ve got some fans now. Who would have guessed that I’d have fans? It’s wild.”

  Mari looked at Kalia, but couldn’t tell what was going on in her sister’s mind because of the hardened look on her face. She did know that they were flying down the expressway. They listened to Asha’s humble act nearly all the way home, with Rob RideOut’s gushing over her, making their stomachs turn.

  “So now that we know what you’re working on, you gotta let us in on what you got going on on the personal tip.”

  Asha giggled. “What do you mean?”

  “Aww, you know what we’re talking about. Are you seeing anybody? You know you’re like new on the scene, and I bet it’s a lot of cats out there trying to get at you.”

  “Well, they’ve been keeping me so busy at Fire, and you know I’m still in school, so I really don’t have a lot of time for like dating and stuff right now.”

  “You mean to tell me there’s no one out there you like?”

  “Now I didn’t say that. There was this one guy, but I think he’s not feeling me anymore. You know he kinda got with this other chick I knew.”

  “You know she’s talking about JD,” Mari said. Kalia didn’t say a word.

  “Ooh, a love triangle.”

  “Well, kinda. I just want to let her know if she’s out there listening, and she knows who she is, that you may have gotten the guy, but I got the fire.”

  Mari flipped off the radio. They’d been sitting in the driveway for the last five minutes listening to the end of Asha’s interview. Kalia had her head leaned back against the seat, her hand over her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Mari asked softly.

  “Umm, hmm.”

  They were quiet for a minute, then Kalia spoke.

  “I just don’t understand how she could win. I’ve been going over it and over it in my mind—every bit of her performance, every bit of mine—and I just don’t know how she won. I know that I did my best,” she said, turning to Mari.

  “You did. You did, and that breakdown was tight. I mean I don’t know how she won either.”

  “I’m so sick of thinking about this,” she said, abruptly opening the door and getting out of the car.

  Mari followed suit, trotting around the front of the car and up the front stairs after her sister.

  “Well, maybe it’s time to think about something else,” she gingerly suggested.

  “Like what? College? Yeah, I got accepted into Penn like Daddy wanted, but I haven’t heard one thing from Howard or Juilliard. They had the performing arts programs I really wanted to get in,” she said, walking through the kitchen and up the back steps. “Maybe I’m just not good enough. I mean ma
ybe I need to take a hint. I lost the contest, didn’t I? What made me think that Howard or Juilliard would want me anyway? I’m trippin’.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Mari, following Kalia into her room. “I just think that you haven’t heard from those schools yet. You’ll hear. Of course you’re good enough. You got second place. That’s great out of more than two hundred people who tried out.”

  “Oh yeah. No one ever remembers the name of the person who got second place,” Kalia said, kicking off her shoes. “They only remember the winner, and that isn’t Kalia Jefferson. It’s Asha Wright.”

  Mari leaned against the doorway, not knowing what to say to her sister, so she changed the subject.

  “Hey, I need a favor,” she said.

  Kalia looked at her, annoyance registering on her face. “What? What do you want?”

  “I need someone to help me throw a baby shower for Colby.”

  “And you’re asking me?”

  “Yep. You’re my big sister, and I need your help.”

  Kalia threw her hands in the air. “Why not? I sure don’t have anything else to do.”

  “Cool. We can come up with some ideas a little later, okay? I’m gonna hit the books. I’ve got a quiz in poli-sci tomorrow, and I haven’t even done the reading.”

  “Okay, whatever,” said Kalia, walking over to her window.

  Mari stood there in the doorway looking at her sister, wishing she had some words of wisdom or a great idea that would make her feel better. Luckily her father swooped in to the rescue. Later that evening, he showed up at the house with three tickets to see Sade. Sitting in the audience, Mari looked to her right. There sat her sister entranced by the depth of Sade’s performance. If the building were on fire, she doubted Kalia would move one inch. She looked to her left and there was her father, just as caught up in the show. The only thing missing was her mother. As Sade padded shoeless around the stage, Mari sat back in her seat thoughtfully, realizing this was how their lives were going to be from now on. Even though they hadn’t been on a family outing in a while, the fact that all four members of the Jefferson family might never go out again made Mari wistful for her childhood. Willing back tears, she closed her eyes and let Sade take her away.