by Paula Chase
Michael busied himself searching for pins he knew weren’t there, doing anything to avoid the questioning expression in Rob’s eyes. His basement bedroom was huge, the full length of the house, but Rob’s inquisition made the room feel like the troupe’s tiny sewing room. Stumbling over the small raised platform, Michael muttered to himself more about being on the hot seat than his stumped toe.
Pretending to check the dress’s fold, he slyly checked his watch. It was six-thirty. He needed to wrap this up, get Rob on his way and meet the clique at Rio’s. But Rob remained stoic, on the other side of the platform, his dissatisfaction radiating from his crossed arms to the upturned scowl.
“For real,” Rob said, his eyebrow inching ever higher. He crossed the short distance between them and stood shoulder to shoulder with Michael, invading his space, boldly asserting his point. “Do you know how many people would be, like, creaming themselves if Zora had started a program based on their talent?”
“Don’t hate ’cause your jealous,” Michael said, attempting to lighten the mood.
Rob rolled his eyes. “Hells yes I’m jealous.” He folded his arms, making his well-sculpted biceps pop. “I have to try out for my spot this year and Zora’s practically handing you a scholarship.”
Michael frowned. “Hardly. I still have to apply.”
“Dude, she went to the school’s board of trustees and asked them to start a fashion program ’cause of your designs.” He shook his head, as if the whole idea were too outrageous to comprehend. “For real, what are the odds they’d turn you down?”
Refusing to look up, Michael shrugged. His neck burned from a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The way Rob framed it, he was the world’s biggest idiot for even uttering he wasn’t down for applying. Michael had already explained to Rob that it wasn’t that easy, but Rob wouldn’t let it go.
Michael envied how openly passionate Rob was about theatre. Michael loved fashion as much, but he couldn’t go around rhapsodizing about it 24/7 in the halls of DRB High or even around the clique ... especially not around the clique, JZ specifically.
It wasn’t a big deal, really. Michael had a life outside of Bay Dra-da. He couldn’t help it if Rob couldn’t say the same.
Still, his seesawing doubts forced his hands to move faster for the phantom pins.
“When your peeps at college, what are you gonna do?” Rob pretended to flip through the pages of a huge book. His eyes mocked wistful reflection. “Reminisce over your portfolio in between your shifts at Subway?”
Michael sidestepped Rob and squatted, checking the dress’s hem for the fifth time. The haughty hitch in Rob’s voice grated like nails on chalkboard.
Normally, Michael was equally as balls-to-the-walls honest with people. He just wasn’t in the mood for it tonight, even though Rob was his boy.
It was his job to be straight with Michael. And dude never slept on that job, not once in the three years they’d been friends. They’d been tight ever since Michael ran his very first errand for Madame, dropping a package of patterns to Madame Zora, just a few weeks after getting the gig with Bay Dra-da. He’d been wandering the Player’s cavernous auditorium for ten minutes when Rob took mercy on him and walked him to Zora’s office.
It was the first time Michael had met another African American dude, his age, in Del Rio Bay into theatre. It had been like discovering a long-lost family member, and they’d clicked immediately. They didn’t disagree often, but when they did Michael received a good, old-fashioned heap of his own medicine in Rob’s practical scolding.
Unable to stall any longer, Michael stood up. He scowled, snapping his answer to hide the fear clouding his mind.
“Trust, I’m not putting anybody else first.” He elbowed Rob not so gently in the chest and smiled weakly.“And you’ll be the first person trying to get the hookup during my Subway shift. So don’t trip.” He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “I told you I don’t want to spend my summer running back and forth to DC.” He took a deep breath and found the courage to face Rob’s angry disdain, infusing commanding annoyance into his words. “And I don’t want to spend my senior year at another high school. That’s wack.”
“Why? You’d already know me, Maribel and Ferdinand.” Rob’s face hardened waiting for Michael to challenge. When Mike kept silent, Rob traced the shape of the finished baby-doll dress, barely touching it. His voice was all awe and respect. “Even if you didn’t know anybody, you got mad talent. It’s straight madness to waste it. You turning this down is like ... it’s like a model being discovered on the streets and telling Tyra Banks, no thanks, I don’t want be on your show because I don’t wanna miss my prom.”
Michael snickered and Rob joined in. There was a moment of comfortable silence as Michael basked in Rob’s subtle compliment until the indignation returned in Rob’s voice.
“You worrying about leaving DRB High, but let you tell it, your friends wouldn’t put off their life for you. That’s for sure.”
Michael had no response for that. What could he say? Yes, they would? He knew better. Obviously he’d complained to Rob about being the odd man out one time too many. It was a truth he didn’t want to hear, not like that would shut up Rob.
He was caught off-guard when Rob’s voice took on a light paternal lilt. “Mike, it’s your decision but I bet if you get all your designs together in a portfolio and see just how tight your work is, you’ll change your mind and want to apply to the Carter.”
“Maybe,” Michael said, playing down the excitement the thought of his arsenal of designs brought on.
Rob’s shoulders hitched. “So just do that. If you still ain’t down once you see ’em all laid out, then you ain’t down.You know?”
As if assured the decision had been made, Rob stretched his lean, muscular body to the ceiling, then leaned to the right, stretching his left arm in a graceful arc.
“Oh, I met Mina the other day.”
“Word?” Michael said.
“Yup. She cool peoples,” Rob said. He did a deep knee bend, lowering and raising his body fluidly as if rhythmic movement was the only way he knew to move. “She invited me to hang with y’all tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Michael said, working to keep his tone neutral. “Thought you had studio time booked tonight?” He darted over to the table holding his material, unwilling to let Rob see the mixture of surprise and anxiety on his face. He wasn’t ready for Rob to meet JZ. Truth be told, never was too soon.
“I do,” Rob said. He hesitated a moment before going on, his voice probing. “I don’t know, I still might stop through.... I mean, ’cause Mina might take offense if I didn’t.” He chuckled. “I might be breaking one of her friend rules you always talking about, right?”
Michael’s mouth provided an answer—“Yeah, she’s a little loopy when it comes to rules of engagement”—even as his mind scrambled for a way to prevent Rob from stopping by.
His hands automatically went through the motions of straightening pins, scraps of material, cushions, and miscellaneous sewing supplies. His constant talk about the clique to Rob was finally coming back to haunt him. Although Rob teased him, questioning if the clique actually existed outside of Michael’s mind, tonight was the closest he’d ever come to confirming Michael’s suspicion that he wanted to meet the friends Michael spent as much time boasting about as venting.
Rob didn’t have a single friend in Del Rio Bay not associated with the Players. He brushed it off when the topic arose, but Michael suspected Rob was still plenty bitter about growing up friendless in a neighborhood overrun with other guys his age.
“I can see why she’s your girl, though,” Rob said, grabbing his jacket off a nearby mannequin. “Cute. Nice. Just like I figured she’d be.”
There was no mistaking the longing in his voice, but Michael kept his answer neutrally witty. “I’ll let her know you approve.” He stood woodenly by the table, nothing else to put away.
“You do that,” Rob said, his usual pragmatic
tone back. He put his fist out for a pound. “Deuces, brother. I gotta get back over the bridge and burn this studio time.”
Saved by the dance, Michael thought, tapping his fist against Rob’s, his grin a mile wide. “All right. Later, kid.”
Rob paused at the stairway. “Hey, where does that girl Kelly live again?”
“Folger’s Way,” Michael said cautiously, his grin faltering.
Rob’s eyebrows scrunched in concentration, then eased with recognition. “Oh, right.” He shrugged his jacket to his ears. “See you.”
When Worlds Collide
“It’s good to be crazy, ain’t it baby.”
—Ne-Yo ft. Jay-Z, “Crazy”
Michael sent invisible waves across the table to Mina. He was pissed at her. It baffled him that it never occurred to her that there was a reason it had been three years and he hadn’t bothered to invite Rob out with the clique. He stared a hole through her, waiting for her to see him glaring. She was oblivious as she and Brian whispered, dipping in and out of the rest of the table’s chorus.
The door to Rio’s Ria opened and Michael cracked his neck looking up, hoping and getting his wish that it wasn’t Rob.
His heart pattered erratically.
Even as he breathed a sigh of relief, guilt throttled him, making his temples pulsate. It made him sick that he didn’t want Rob to show up tonight. But it was what it was. Mina believed in that fairy tale ending, let’s all be friends stuff. He didn’t. Some people simply weren’t compatible. And JZ and Rob wouldn’t be. Michael knew it with a certainty that made the pounding in his head boom double time.
JZ was leading man confident, certain laughter would follow at his every witty remark and that people would agree with him as long as he flashed his charisma. Rob was master dancer arrogant, matter-of-fact about his point of view, never doubtful that his way was the obvious “right” path.
They were actually more alike than different, but JZ would never notice, much less ever admit it. Talk about clash of the titans.
Michael willingly played the straight man to JZ’s Joker, his role sealed after eleven years of friendship. He rolled with JZ’s macho flow without ever giving in to it. On the flip side, he and Rob were on more equal footing. Their similar opinionated personalities meshed surprisingly well, giving their relatively new friendship an old-couple’s comfort.
Michael slipped comfortably into either skin when he was with his two best guy friends, but until now lived blissfully ignorant of what life would be like if the two ever crossed paths.
He had no doubt Rob would see his easygoing, low-key attitude around JZ as too side-kickish. And JZ would see his and Rob’s comfortable bond as girly. Not that it would take much for JZ to go there. Just knowing Rob was a dancer, the kind who saw beyond hip-hop dancing, would be enough for JZ to discount Rob as soft.
Michael rubbed his throbbing temples. His eyes focused on Lizzie’s mouth moving and he slowly emerged from his fog in time to realize she was asking him for his part of the check. The clique was making moves to leave. He’d zoned out of the conversation almost from the start and now they were ready to roll.
Relief washed over him. Rob hadn’t shown.
Kelly’s nabe was gated. Michael couldn’t see Rob showing up in a strange neighborhood with a guard at the gate. His heart did a happy flip.
There was the usual minor confusion as they all chipped in to pay for the food. As he placed a five on the table, Mina’s eyes finally connected with his.
His eyebrows furrowed. “We need to talk,” he mouthed.
She frowned, but nodded. As everyone streamed to the door, Mina hung back until Michael was by her side. They lagged behind.
“What’s up, baby boy?” Mina linked arms with him.
Michael slid his arm out. “Uh-uh. I’m mad at you, Mina.”
She stopped just short of the door, looking as if she were having a tough time processing the words. “Why?”
Michael walked into the pizza place’s small foyer and leaned against the wall, his arms folded, his expression disapproving. He wasn’t that mad anymore, now that Rob hadn’t shown, but he had to give Mina the proper amount of grief.
She stood in front of him, chucked his elbow. “What did I do?” She was too sincere for Michael to hold on to his pretend anger.
“Deev, why didn’t you tell me you invited Rob?”
Mina’s eyes rolled. “Who told you? I wanted it to be a surprise. He’s a sweetie. I—”
Michael put his hand up to stem the flow of her words. “He told me. Look, don’t take this wrong, but Rob is like ... he’s who I kick it with to get away from y’all.”
Mina pouted. “Gee, thanks, Michael.”
He grinned. “I told you don’t take it wrong.”
Michael linked arms and led Mina to the door. It was full dark in the early winter evening. The clique’s voices rang above the steady stream of traffic on Main Street. They were already fifteen yards ahead, but Michael purposely strolled, enjoying the few minutes he had Mina to himself.
“You know how Cinny always talking about keeping her life in the Cove from straight mashing her life in the Woods?” He draped his arm around Mina’s shoulder as she nodded. “It’s kind of like that.” He grinned down at her, his smile shining in the dark, and bumped her hip with his. “Plus, Rob is like my parallel world JZ. No one knows what happens when parallel worlds meet. One of ’em might dissolve into a million pieces.”
He was relieved when Mina threw her head back and laughed.
“I know, right?” she said. “Maybe if we’re lucky just JZ’s mouth will dissolve.”
Michael’s laugh carried in the night’s breeze. “You not right.”
Their steps sped up, in sync, as they neared Folger’s Way, a large enclave of mini mansions set off the main road.
“I’m sorry I asked him to pop over,” Mina said, squeezing his waist for emphasis. “I honestly thought you never had him over because, like his schedule was so crazy you always said. I just figured the time had never been right. When I saw him at the mall, I thought it was a sign.”
Michael chuckled. “You and your signs.”
“Don’t sleep on my signs, Mike. For real, most times they’re seriously on target.”
Michael left it alone. He knew Mina believed in signs like some people believed in God. When it was a “good” sign, she swore by it. When it was “bad,” she fretted like nobody’s business, driving everybody crazy until her world righted itself.
“He didn’t show up so maybe that’s a good sign,” Mina said, rambling on happily.
“More likely a sign that he ended up getting some extra studio time.”
Mina stopped abruptly. “Oh, and how come you never mentioned that his body is like woah?”
Michael tugged her along. “’Cause you have a boyfriend. What purpose would mentioning that serve except to have you window shopping in a store you can’t afford?”
Mina wriggled free of his hold and gave him a shove. “That is so wrong, Mike.”
They tripped off one another, dissing back and forth until they were only a few feet from catching up to the clique, huddled near the electric eye that would grant them access through the gate. They all stood under the only streetlight near the entrance, a lit mass within a huge pocket of darkness.
“Come on, they must be waiting for us,” Michael said, his steps quickening.
The huddle separated as they approached.
Michael tripped over Mina’s foot as Kelly said, “There he is. Mike, Rob is here.”
Rob’s right eyebrow arched. “What’s up, Mike?” A big, warm smile spread across his face. “Hi, Mina.”
“Hey, Rob. I’m glad you made it,” Mina said.
The extra cheer in Mina’s voice hurt Michael’s ears. He was likely the only one who knew Mina inside out enough to get that high-pitched tremor in her voice was anxiety. She threw Michael a quick, nervous glance of apology before joining the circle next to Brian, whose arm autom
atically went around her shoulders.
Oh yeah, sure, you have somewhere to hide, Michael thought, resisting the urge to grimace.
Rob had shown up. So which sign is this? Michael wanted to ask. Instead, he stepped into the huddle’s center and exchanged a halfhearted pound with Rob, his mouth too dry to respond.
“Did you meet everybody?” Mina asked, making up for Michael’s absent manners.
“Yeah.” Rob gestured to the guard booth, to their left. “Good thing Kelly recognized me from the mall. I think the rent-a-cop was ready to call the real cops on me. I’ve been here under this light for about ten minutes, hoping y’all hadn’t gone through yet.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Kelly, I had forgot your last name. I didn’t want to look dumb at the gate trying to guess at it. I ain’t never been to a nabe where I had to give a blood test and background check.”
The clique’s laughter echoed off the naked trees surrounding the neighborhood’s entrance.
“I know, right,” Jacinta said. “Wait till you go through the gate. Kelly’s neighborhood is spooky quiet.”
Rob’s eyebrow jumped. “Shoot, even more quiet than it is out here?”
“Yes,” Jacinta said.
“Where do you live, man?” Greg said.
“The hood. I live in Del Rio’s Crossing,” Rob said. He questioned Jacinta. “You’re from the Cove, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Jacinta played mad, rolling her eyes at Michael. “I see Mike spreads all our business, proper-like.”
“Girl, please, like people can’t see you from the Cove,” JZ said. He grabbed Jacinta’s wrist in a light hold just as she went to smack him. “Just jokes, baby girl. Just jokes. We know you hood fab and proud.”
As the chatter increased and grew more casual, Michael relaxed. He shifted his weight so he was perfectly wedged between Mina and Kelly, closing the huddle completely. He scanned the circle, watching everyone’s body language, as if to ensure himself everything was going well.