by Earl Sewell
Before I could say anything more, Wesley disappeared into the crowded hallway. I was going to tell him that trying to get back together was a waste of his time, but he wouldn’t have listened anyway.
four
The lies that had gone around the school about me were annoying and mean. Someone in my second-period class heard that I’d pulled out a gun and shot at Priscilla. A girl in my third-period class had heard that I’d pushed Priscilla in front of a bus and almost killed her. Another girl in my fourth-period class heard that I was knocked up with twins, had gotten sloppy drunk, fallen over the table, spilled fruit punch everywhere and then screamed out that Priscilla and I were both bisexual and sleeping with Antonio. The rumors had gotten so outrageous that I just stopped trying to correct people. By the time I entered history class, even Mr. O’Brian had heard about it. Since I was the first person to arrive, he decided to mention something about it.
“I hope none of the prom rumors I’ve been hearing are true, Keysha,” he said as he began erasing the blackboard. My eyes fell on a quote he hadn’t yet erased.
“Who said that?” I pointed to the writing on the blackboard.
“Those are the notes from my World History class. Sir Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill said that.”
“And who is he?” I asked.
“You mean who was he,” Mr. O’Brian corrected me. “He was a British politician known chiefly for his leadership during World War II. You’ll be taking World History next year.”
“Is he dead?” I asked a silly question.
“He passed away in January of 1965. I was only five years old when he died,” said Mr. O’Brian.
“Well, he must have been a very smart man, because what he said is so true.” I repeated what was written on the blackboard: “‘A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on.’”
“Yes, and in my lifetime I’ve seen numerous examples of lies that have outrun the truth.”
“Why do people lie anyway?” I griped. “Ever since I came to this school, vicious rumors and lies have been following me around. I just don’t get it.”
“Well, sometimes people lie when the truth is too painful or when they want to destroy someone’s character or credibility. The more scandalous the lie sounds, the quicker it spreads. However, in the end the truth always wins.”
“Well, someone needs to put some fire up under truth’s behind so it can move quicker,” I said jokingly. Mr. O’Brian laughed along with me for a few moments until more students began entering the classroom.
By the time my lunch hour rolled around, I’d grown weary of being badgered by classmates who were curious about what had gone down at prom. Even people I didn’t know were pestering me. I got to the point of just saying leave me alone to anyone who approached me with a retarded rendition of events.
I walked over to the lunch counter, grabbed a food tray and stood in line. I got two slices of pizza, chips and a soda for lunch and then found a table to sit at. A moment later, to my surprise, Mike joined me.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he sat down. He’d ordered himself a chicken-patty sandwich with French fries, soda and an ice-cream sandwich bar.
“Nothing. Just trying to keep my head on straight. I’m tired of people asking about what went down,” I admitted as I popped the top on my soda can and took a long gulp. I tried to quell the urge to belch but I couldn’t. “Ooh, excuse me,” I said.
“You’re excused, you slob,” Mike said jokingly.
“Boy, please, you’ve got some nerve,” I fired back.
“So, where is your girl Maya?” he asked.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because that’s who you’re usually sitting with. Did you two have a fight or something?” Mike was always being nosey.
“She had a doctor’s appointment but will be here later.”
“Ooh, is she pregnant or something?” Mike asked annoyingly.
“She went to see her dentist, silly.”
“Oh.” Mike took a bite of his sandwich and chewed with his mouth open.
“Close your mouth.” I gave him a nasty glare.
“What?” Mike asked puzzled.
“You’re chewing your food like a cow on a prairie,” I said.
“You know what?” Mike stopped chewing and stood up. “I didn’t come over here so that you could ride my back about silly stuff. I’m going to go sit somewhere else, because it’s obvious that you want to be alone.”
“Mike you don’t have to go. I was just—”
“Later,” Mike said. I watched him walk to the other side of the cafeteria and sit down with some of his football and track friends.
“This place is driving me crazy,” I grumbled as I massaged my eye sockets with my fingertips. I guess I was sort of lashing out at Mike because I was irritated by all the questions I had been asked. Come on girl. Get ahold of yourself, I thought. Just as I began to calm down, I was startled by the loud slap of books landing on the tabletop.
“Wesley, you’re not going to startle me twice with the same lame trick. I know you want us to get back together. I do still—”
“So, it is true!” a girl’s voice barked at me. I quickly removed my fingers and opened my eyes. I glanced over to my right. Lori, Wesley’s current girlfriend, stood next to me with her index finger pointed at my face.
I put both hands on the table in case I needed to stand up quickly. “I know one thing. You better move your finger before I break it,” I warned her. It was clear that Lori meant business, but I had no clue why she felt so threatened by me.
“All I know is you’d better stay away from Wesley before you get your behind whipped, Keysha.”
“What are you talking about, trick?” I snapped.
“Who you calling a trick, whore?” Lori pushed my shoulder. I glanced at my left shoulder where she’d pushed me.
“Fight!” I heard someone yell. Students sitting nearby quickly gave us space to throw down. They waited on the edge of their seats, anticipating how our spat was going to turn out.
“Look here, little bony girl. You’ve got one more time to put your hands on me. Do it again and I’ll smash your face into this table.”
“You need to stop sending mixed messages to Wesley. He’s mine now. I made sure of that on prom night because I gave him his manhood, which is something you weren’t woman enough to do!” I decided that it was time to stand up. Lori was slightly taller than me, but not by much. She was much thinner, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to win a fight with her. A few tugs of her hair, a couple of good claws to her face and a few well-placed punches would bring the conflict to a quick end.
“Trick, I don’t care that you’ve had sex with Wesley, although he was probably thinking about me the entire time. Why else would he get down with you and then come see me? I’ll tell you why. Because you don’t have a lot to offer. You probably bored him to death.” I raised my voice at her, hoping my insults would tip her over the edge and force her to make her move.
“Whatever! You fruit-punch-wearing scalawag. All I know is you’d better stay away from Wesley or else!” Lori was a bold and feisty girl who needed to be taken down a notch or two.
“Or else what?” I moved closer to her and was about to push her down. All I wanted her to do was touch me and it was going to be on.
“Break it up over there!” I heard one of the security guards yell out as she approached us.
“You just remember what I told you and stop sending him mixed signals,” Lori threatened as she backed away.
“Whatever!” I snapped as I sat back down. I exhaled loudly and then glanced down at my food. I’d suddenly lost my appetite.
“What was all that about?” asked the security guard.
“Nothing,” I answered. “Just a misunderstanding.”
“It looked like a lot more than a misunderstanding to me.” The guard, who was a frail-looking woman with thick, leathery skin from too many hours o
f tanning, pressed for more information.
“Look, we squashed it, okay? Nothing happened.” I wanted the guard to leave me alone.
She pointed her first and second fingers at herself and then directed them toward me. “I’m watching you, young lady. Every move you make and breath you take. I’m watching you.”
I tilted my head. “It is not that serious,” I assured her. The guard finally accepted my statement and moved on.
Geeze, I can’t wait for summer break to come, I thought.
At the end of the day, I finally ran into Maya outside near the soccer field. She was hugging Misalo and kissing him goodbye. Misalo saw me approaching and stopped kissing Maya.
“Oh, hey, Keysha. How’s it going?” he asked.
“Everything is cool,” I answered before saying hello to Maya.
“I saw Antonio earlier,” Misalo mentioned.
“What did he say?” I asked, only half-interested.
“Not much. He said that you guys had broken up.” Misalo reached down and picked up his backpack.
“And tell her what else he said,” Maya goaded Misalo.
“He just kept denying that Priscilla’s baby belonged to him. He said he knows for a fact that she’d been sleeping around and is just trying to blame him for her problems. He refuses to tell his parents about it.”
“And,” Maya said, pushing him to spill all of the information he’d relayed to her.
“He wants to get back together with you. He asked me to put in a good word for him.” Misalo chuckled.
“Huh! There seems to be an ex-boyfriend virus going around,” I uttered, as the thought of getting back with Antonio made my stomach turn.
“I’ll take that to mean that there is no way in hell you’re going to date him again,” Misalo answered his own question.
“Bingo!” I said, pointing my finger in the air.
“Okay.” He laughed before giving Maya a quick kiss on lips.
“I’ll call you tonight,” Maya said as Misalo turned to walk across the soccer field toward his house.
“Call me after eight. I should be back from the grocery store with my mother by then,” Misalo said.
Maya and I began walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the school’s campus.
“How did it go?” I asked her about her dental appointment as we walked home.
“Girl, get real. I know you didn’t walk all the way around here just to find me and talk about my dental appointment. You look like you have something on your mind.” Maya knew me all too well.
“You won’t believe the day I’ve had,” I confessed.
“Really, was it that bad? You didn’t get suspended or a detention did you?” Maya asked with genuine concern.
“Not exactly, but I did almost get into a fight,” I said.
“A fight!” Maya’s shouted, and then stopped in her tracks.
“Yeah,” I said.
“With who and about what?” I could tell that I had Maya’s full attention.
“Lori.”
“Lori! Why are you fighting with Lori?” Maya shrugged her shoulders in confusion.
“Let me finish.” I exhaled. “Okay, so this morning Wesley appears out of nowhere wanting to shoot the breeze about what went down at prom. Except that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to see me.”
“Okay, so what was he all up on you for?” Maya asked.
I reached up and scratched the back of my neck. “He wants to get back together with me,” I confessed. Maya started laughing.
“Are you serious?”
“Very,” I said.
“Why doesn’t he just give it up? It’s over and he needs to move on,” Maya said.
“I was trying to tell him that, but he just wasn’t listening. It was like he was twisting everything I said to him and kept looking for any hint that I wanted to get back with him. It was really weird and…sort of creepy.” I stared at Maya to let her know just how uncomfortable Wesley’s comments made me feel.
“So what happened?”
“Nothing. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t going to be with him ever again, but he walked way begging me to think about him.”
“Ewie, what for?” Maya curled her lips into a sour expression.
“I don’t know. So the next thing that happened totally caught me off guard. While I’m sitting in the cafeteria, Lori comes up to me and threatens to kick my butt if I don’t leave Wesley alone.”
“Wait a minute!” Maya stopped walking briefly to take in what I’d just said. “You mean to tell me that she’s worried about you and Wesley getting back together?”
“Yup. I think Wesley must’ve have told her that he wanted to be with me or something stupid like that, and she got all knotted up about it because she claims that she had sex with him on prom night.”
“Get out of here!” Maya spoke very loudly. “Oh, that’s just too damn wild.”
“It couldn’t have been all that good if less than two days later he’s coming to me looking to hook back up.”
“Let me ask you a serious question, and I want a straight answer from you,” Maya said.
“What?”
“Do you want Wesley back? I mean, it’s okay if you do, I’m just trying to—”
“Maya, no. I have no intention of ever going back to Wesley. It’s over, and he needs to get that through his head. Right now he’s just as annoying as a fly at a picnic.”
“Well, okay, then it’s settled. Wesley and Antonio are history, which means you’re free to have a new summer romance,” Maya said with a smile.
“Yeah, right. I’m leaving boys alone for a while,” I proclaimed with absolute certainty.
“That’ll change, I’m sure,” Maya said sarcastically.
“No, it won’t. I’m serious. I just don’t want to deal with guys right now.”
“No. What you really mean is that you don’t want to deal with guys at this school right now. What you need is to expand your pool of datable guys, and I know just how to do it.”
“Girl, what are you talking about?” I asked.
“How would you like to make some money this summer?” Maya asked.
“Doing what? I’m not flipping any burgers,” I quickly said.
“Neither am I.” Maya chuckled. “How would you like to sit around the community swimming pool all day and make some decent money?” Maya grinned like the cat who ate the canary.
“Swimming pool?” I asked, wondering where she was going with her question.
“Yes. My mother knows the head of the park district. There are two slots available for lifeguards. We can take the training course right here at school. It doesn’t take long, and once we get our certifications we’ll automatically get the jobs, or at least an opportunity to interview for them.”
“I’m not about to go and be a lifeguard. I can’t get my hair in the pool every day. That’s just too much maintenance with the blow-dryer.” I looked at Maya as if she’d lost her ever-loving mind.
“What are you talking about?” Maya asked, honestly perplexed by my reaction.
“Black women, their hair and water don’t mix, Maya. If our hair gets wet it will turn nappy. Even if we sweat, it’s a problem. That’s the very reason why you don’t see black women on an Olympic swim team, white-water rafting or any sport that has to do with water. Hell, it’s even a challenge for us when it rains.”
“Well, you swim in gym class all the time,” Maya pointed out.
“That’s because I have to and trust me, I do everything humanly possible to keep my hair from getting wet.”
“Well, just do the same thing while you’re taking the certification course,” Maya reasoned.
“Maya, it takes a lot of work,” I complained.
“I’ll help you. It can’t be all that bad.”
“Girl, you don’t understand the issues with my hair,” I huffed. “I don’t know why God gave all the other women on the planet water-resistant hair except for black women. There has
to be a reason behind that decision.”
“Look, maybe I’m just totally stupid when it comes to this, but there are black women in the WNBA. They run up and down the basketball court all night and I’m sure they sweat and their hair looks fine to me. And what about Venus and Serena Williams? They sweat and their hair looks fine.”
“A lot of those women wear braids,” I answered, slightly annoyed by the way she was getting around my excuses.
“Then have your daddy pay to get your hair braided. Come on, Keysha. This is a great chance to make some money to go back-to-school shopping with. Just think about how fly we’ll look in the fall when we return for our senior year.” I was about to come up with another defense but paused when the idea of buying my own clothes with my own money began to sound appealing. I suddenly saw a flash of myself in all of the hottest fashions. My hair was on point, my makeup was flawless, and I had on so much bling that I had to put on sunglasses.
“Is swimming a good way to stay in shape?” I asked as the fantasy of flaunting a hot body like Ciara or Shakira around boys appealed to me.
“Of course it is, Keysha,” Maya assured me.
“When does the training course start?” I asked.
“This coming Saturday. I have all the information in my backpack. I even grabbed you an application. We can sit in your backyard and take a look at everything,” Maya explained.
“Okay,” I said, liking the thought of hanging out with her at my house.
Maya leaned toward me. “Trust me, it will be a blast. We’ll get to wear bikinis and work on our suntans,” Maya said.
“That’s another thing. Black folks generally avoid the sun,” I said, finding another reason to not make a commitment to do the swim training.
“Well, that’s a silly rule. Where do these rules come from anyway? Is there like a book of black-people rules floating around somewhere, because my father has never mentioned any of them to me,” Maya asked, trying to understand why I was being so difficult.
“No. It’s just sort of passed down from generation to generation,” I admitted.