Drama Queens

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  We’d all stayed after school to wait on Alexis and Camille. We had a service project at Holub, the middle school where we mentored sixth-grade girls. It was too far to walk, so we needed to ride with Alexis.

  “We’re gonna be late,” Jasmine said.

  I glanced at my watch. It was almost four fifteen, and we were supposed to be at the school at four thirty.

  Jasmine held up her arm and pointed at her Betty Boop watch as she got Camille’s attention.

  Camille’s eyes grew wide, like she’d forgotten what time it was. She was the captain so she could leave at any time—that was also the reason she’d been able to put Alexis on the squad without a tryout. Camille ran over and told the sponsor that they had to leave.

  “’Bout time,” Jasmine said as Camille and Alexis approached us. “You know the people at the middle school are gonna tell Miss Rachel we were late and she’s gonna have a stroke.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Camille said, tossing her bag over her shoulder.

  We made our way to Alexis’s car. Camille was yapping about something that had happened earlier that day and I was half listening when I looked up. The sight of the too-cute guy standing in the parking lot made us stop in our tracks. He noticed us and broke out in a big grin.

  “Uh, hi,” I said, trying to contain my shock as I realized who it was.

  “Hey, yourself,” he said, flashing a lopsided smile that immediately sent my heart fluttering. “Hello, ladies,” he said, speaking to everyone else. They all looked as shocked as I did. Each of them turned to me for answers.

  “Ummm, what is he doing here?” Tyeesha whispered.

  I shrugged, trying to shoot her a look to shut up.

  “Aren’t you the guy from PV?” Jasmine said.

  “The one and only. Rico LeDay. Better known as

  R-Train.”

  “Well, what are you doing here?” Jasmine asked.

  “Isn’t this a free country?” he replied. His tone wasn’t sarcastic, just playful, and I think the bright grin kept Jasmine from going off. “Seriously,” he continued, “I was just in the neighborhood.”

  “You go to school an hour away,” Alexis said. “But you just happened to be in this neighborhood?”

  “Okay, so you got me,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “I just haven’t been able to get this angelic girl out of my head, and since she didn’t give me her number and she never called me when I gave her mine, I decided to come on down.”

  I tried my best to keep my cool. I’d wanted to call, but this boy in my third period overheard me and Tyeesha talking about Rico and he told me not to waste my time because college guys definitely didn’t want “no high school girl with a baby.” So, of course, I’d lost my nerve.

  “I thought maybe she lost my number,” Rico said, looking straight at me.

  Jasmine crossed her arms. “Or maybe she’s on to slick-talking players, so she just threw it away.”

  He shook his head, like he knew better than that. “Naw, I don’t think so.”

  His response didn’t come across as cocky, more like confident.

  “Me and Angel had a connection,” he said, still staring at me. I know my cheeks had to be beet-red. “I don’t think she threw my number away. I think she did not know how serious I was about getting to know her, so I thought if I tracked her down, she’d see just how serious I was.”

  “Or maybe she’d see that you were a stalker,” Jasmine quipped.

  He didn’t seem fazed by her sarcasm.

  “Umph,” Camille muttered. I could tell she was impressed. So were Alexis and Tyeesha. Jasmine? Well, it took a whole lot more than some smooth words to impress Jasmine.

  “Hey, I was wondering if I could take you to get something to eat,” he said.

  “We’re actually headed to a service project,” Alexis answered before I could respond.

  “A service project?” he asked. “That’s nice. Man, you’re both beautiful and generous.”

  I blushed some more.

  “How’d you know how to find Angel?” Tyeesha asked.

  He shrugged. “Well, I knew what school you went to. I called and found out what time you got out, and I’ve been hanging out here ever since.”

  “Stal-ker,” Jasmine mumbled.

  I’m sure Rico heard her, but he didn’t pay her any attention.

  “I just asked someone for the cutest girl on campus, and they told me you were still inside, so I decided to wait,” Rico said.

  Jasmine rolled her eyes. Sure, I knew he was laying it on, but I was loving it.

  “I’m glad you did,” I finally said.

  “Oh, good grief! Can we go?” Jasmine pushed past Rico and walked on to Alexis’s car.

  Camille smiled at me but cocked her head toward Jasmine. “Angel, I’m all for you getting your mack on, but we do need to go.”

  “Okay.” I turned my attention back to Rico. “I really do have to go, but ummm . . .”

  Camille stepped to my aid. “Look, my girl definitely wants to get wit’ you, but right now we have other commitments. Give her your number again and I’ll make sure she calls.”

  “Do you still have my number?” he asked me.

  I nodded. It was sitting on my dresser. I had looked at it ten times a day trying to get up the nerve to call.

  “Will you use it?”

  “I will.”

  “You promise?”

  “Girl Scout’s honor,” I tried to joke.

  “She’s not a Girl Scout,” Jasmine shouted from the car.

  I laughed. “Well, I promise.”

  “Then I’ll talk to you soon,” Rico replied.

  He lifted my hand, kissed it, then walked off.

  I watched him for a moment until Alexis honked her horn. I jumped, then raced to get in the car.

  “Could you appear any more desperate?” Jasmine asked.

  I ignored her dig. Nothing she could say could get to me today. Rico had come all the way here looking for me, I thought. He wanted to see me that bad?

  Oh yeah, I had the feeling this was the start of something real good.

  5

  Jasmine

  Let’s get this party started!” Camille sang as she bounced into the meeting room, late as usual.

  Miss Rachel cut her eyes. “We started this party about ten minutes ago. Have a seat.”

  Camille giggled as she slid in the chair next to me. I could tell that glowing expression on her face only meant one thing—she’d met someone new.

  She leaned over to me. “Girl, I can’t wait to tell you about Kendrick,” she whispered. I shook my head as I smiled at her.

  Camille’s boy-crazy stories were just one of the reasons I loved coming to the Good Girlz meetings. It also gave me the chance to get away from the madness at my house, hang with my girls, and have Miss Rachel dish some wisdom. I wouldn’t admit it to her, but her advice and all the lessons she tried to teach us over the past two years had really hit home for me. She had a way of making you think about things. I think it was because she wasn’t afraid to share her history with us. She was a buck-wild, crazy teenager, which was a trip since she was a preacher’s daughter. But I think she was able to get through to us because we knew she wasn’t one of those adults who just preached at you. She was trying to keep us from making the same mistakes she’d made.

  Miss Rachel had to work a little harder with Camille, who was always getting in trouble behind some boy. That’s how she’d come to the Good Girlz, behind a boy named Keith. He’d broken out of jail, and Camille hid him in her grandmother’s house. She hadn’t known he’d broken out of jail, but when the police had rolled up on them playing house, Keith had bolted and left Camille to take the rap for “harboring a fugitive.” The judge had let her come to the Good Girlz instead of keeping her in juvenile detention.

  Miss Rachel had a way of helping us figure out our problems, and I was hoping she could help me come up with a solution for college. I’d just finished sharing wit
h everyone what my mom had said about not being able to afford tuition. Naturally, my girls had been shocked, and Miss Rachel had looked really disappointed.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked her. I had broken down and called my dad but he’d told me he’d have to dicuss it with his wife, Cynthia, and get back with me. Since Cynthia hates me with a passion, I quickly wrote off the idea of my dad helping.

  “Well,” Miss Rachel began, “I understand your mother’s position. As much as she wants you to go to college, she has to be realistic. She simply can’t afford it.”

  “But it’s not fair,” I moaned. I didn’t even touch on my hurt feelings behind my dad, because I didn’t want to start crying.

  “How many times do I have to tell you girls that life isn’t fair,” Miss Rachel said. “You can’t let that serve as an excuse as to why you can’t do something.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I asked, feeling desperate. I couldn’t believe I was tearing up.

  “Why don’t you get a scholarship?” Alexis asked.

  I shot her a dirty look. “Oh, okay. Why didn’t I think of that? Can we run by Scholarships-R-Us after the meeting and pick up one or three?”

  I had applied for a few scholarships—the ones that didn’t require a certain grade, since I was barely hanging on with a C average. I hadn’t been all that serious about going to college until we’d visited Prairie View, so I was kinda behind the eight ball in trying to get scholarships. I’d missed the deadline on two of them that I had a decent chance of getting, and I hadn’t heard back on three others. I had gotten one for five hundred dollars, but that would barely buy my books for one semester.

  “Sorry,” Alexis mumbled. “I was just trying to help.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.” It wasn’t her fault that despite my best efforts, I struggled with school. One of my teachers once said I didn’t have good study habits, but I don’t know how I was supposed to study with all the commotion always going on in my house.

  “Well, we’ll keep looking for and applying for scholarships. Part of becoming an adult means figuring out solutions to life’s problems,” Miss Rachel said.

  “Being an adult sucks,” I pointed out.

  “Tell me about it.” Miss Rachel laughed. “But seriously, Jasmine. Let me make some calls. I’m sure with all the members we have at Zion Hill, someone is bound to know of a scholarship you can apply for. Have you prayed about it?”

  “Actually, I have,” I replied. I wasn’t deeply religious or anything, but I did strongly believe in God—you didn’t have a choice in my house. One time my older sister Nikki was dating this Muslim named Mustafah, and she told my granny that the Koran was more truthful than the Bible. I swear, I thought we were going to have to bury my granny right then and there.

  “Well, if you pray, why worry? If you worry, why pray?” Miss Rachel said with a smile.

  “Yeah, right,” I said, not sure what to think of this little saying.

  “Jasmine,” she said, taking my hand and gently squeezing it, “it’ll all work out. You just have to have faith. I’m confident we’ll find you a scholarship, grant, loan, something, and you’ll go to college with the rest of your friends.”

  I blew a sigh of relief. “That’s what I want. Okay, I’ll try to have faith.”

  “Don’t try, just do it.” Miss Rachel had made me feel a little more at ease, and I hoped that she was right. I would die if I had to pass up this great opportunity.

  “Well, before we end today’s meeting, does anyone else have anything they’d like to share with us?” Miss Rachel asked.

  Alexis raised her hand. “I do. I need help, too, because my parents are straight trippin’.”

  “And what would your parents be trippin’ about?” Miss Rachel asked, eyeing her sharply for her use of slang.

  Alexis ignored her chastising look. “They don’t want me to go to PV, and I don’t want to go to Cornell.”

  Miss Rachel was shocked. “I didn’t know Cornell was an option.”

  Camille sucked her teeth. “Unh-huh. Miss Thang was holding out on us. Apparently, not only did she get an early acceptance to Cornell, but she got a scholarship as well.”

  “Wow, that is wonderful!” Miss Rachel said.

  “Really, it’s not,” Alexis groaned. “I mean, I didn’t say anything about Cornell because I don’t want to go. That’s my parents’ dream for me. My dad went there and he’s always wanted me to go there, too. Up until we got accepted to Prairie View, I was okay with it. But being on that campus, well, that’s the experience I want.”

  Alexis looked so sad. I didn’t know this problem was weighing on her so heavily. She’d suffered so much these last few months over her parents’ divorce and was just now coming to terms with that. I know she didn’t feel like going through another fight over which school she would attend.

  “I understand your frustrations, Alexis,” Miss Rachel said. “But you have to trust that your parents are only doing what they think is best for you.”

  “When do I get to decide what’s best for me?” she snapped before catching herself. “I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “Can we talk about something else, because talking about this only makes me mad.”

  Miss Rachel let the issue drop, but I could tell Alexis’s mind was churning. I knew that determined look. Alexis was trying to figure out a way to get out of going to Cornell. And I knew she wouldn’t stop until she’d figured out a way to get what she wanted.

  6

  Angel

  I loved my daughter to death, but this was one of those days I hated being a teenage mom. It was Senior Skip Day, and all my friends were going down to Galveston to hang out. I couldn’t go because my mom and sister had to work. That meant I didn’t have anyone to keep Angelica.

  “Mama, look at picture I draw.” My two-year-old held out a piece of paper with some scribbling on it.

  “Yeah, sweetie, that’s nice,” I said, not even looking her way. I was lying at the edge of the sofa, pouting, because I couldn’t believe I had to miss Senior Skip Day.

  “That is a beautiful picture, mija,” my mother said. I hadn’t even noticed her walk into the room. She had her old, grizzled gray sweater on, so I knew she was about to head to work. “Why don’t you go in your room and color your abuela another picture?”

  Angelica beamed as she took off, toddling down the hall. My mother spun around and glared at me.

  “Angel, I know you do not still have an attitude with me,” she said.

  I didn’t take my gaze off the infomercial playing on TV. “I don’t have an attitude,” I said with an attitude.

  My mother leaned over and grabbed her keys off the coffee table. “You couldn’t possibly have an attitude because someone is insisting that you take care of your responsibilities.”

  I groaned because I knew where this speech was headed. I had gotten pregnant at fifteen, so I’d had to grow up really fast. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not promiscuous. In fact, that was my only time. And as much as I love my daughter, Angelica, I definitely could’ve waited to have her because being a teenage mom was no joke.

  Thankfully, Angelica’s father, Marcus, had come around. It had taken him two years, but he was now a part of Angelica’s life. Sometimes I fantasized that we’d get back together, but that’s as far as it went. I think part of him still resents me for having a baby, like I did it all by myself.

  Of course, Marcus was going to Galveston for Senior Skip Day. Why was I the one who had to get stuck at home?

  “I told you when you had Angelica I would be here to assist you, but at the end of the day, she is your responsibility,” my mother said, fastening her belt.

  “I know that,” I finally said. “I just don’t understand why . . .” My voice trailed off. What was I supposed to say? Why couldn’t my mom call in sick to her job and stay home with her granddaughter while I went and hung out with my friends? That sounded crazy even thi
nking about it, so I just left it alone. “I’m sorry, mami. I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “I know you will.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “You girls have fun.”

  I smiled tightly at her. Yeah, watching Dora the Explorer all night was going to be a whole lot of fun, I thought as my mother made her way out the door.

  After five minutes, I got up and checked on Angelica. She had fallen fast asleep in her room, her crayon still clutched in her hand. I picked her up gently and put her in her bed before making my way back into the living room.

  On my way out, I noticed Rico’s phone number again. On impulse I grabbed the piece of paper and the cordless phone. I had just sat down on the sofa and was about to try to talk myself into calling when the phone rang.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Is this Angel?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the caller ID. I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Yeah?” I said, putting the phone back to my ear.

  “Hey, it’s Lucas.”

  I smiled. I had been hoping Lucas would call. He’d finally broken down last week and asked me to go to the dance. I’d been excited and had given him my number to call. He’d tried to call twice, but both times Angelica had been screaming in the background, so the conversation had gone nowhere. So I was glad he called now while she was asleep.

  I tossed Rico’s phone number aside and leaned back on the sofa.

  “Hey, Lucas. How are you?”

  “I’m a’ight. Where you at?” I could hear a whole lot of background noise. “I’m at the beach with everybody else. I was looking for you.”

  I couldn’t believe my luck. I really liked Lucas. At first, I had believed he’d asked me to the dance out of pity, but then, the more we talked, the more it seemed like he really liked me.

  “Aww, it sounds like you guys are having so much fun,” I said. “I couldn’t come because I couldn’t find a baby-sitter.”

  What in the world did I say that for? The phone grew silent and I frowned. I wished I could take it back, but it’s not like he didn’t know I had a kid.