by Paula Chase
“How y’all catch up with us?” Michael said.
“Jogged a little bit,” JZ said, falling in step behind them.
There was a moment of awkward silence until they reached the crest of the neighborhood’s hill where JZ and Brian would take the right and Michael and Rob would keep straight. They stood under the streetlight in a four-square.
“So, man, how you like the Carter?” JZ said, surprising Michael with his curiosity. “I heard y’all don’t take regular classes. That must be sweet.”
“No, we still take regular classes,” Rob said. “But most of my core classes I finish this year. So next year, it’ll be all my majors.”
“What’s your major?” Brian said. He squinted. “I thought you only did majors in college.”
“No, we choose one by sophomore year.” Rob moved the scarf away from his mouth. His voice was animated, happy to share. “Mine is dance, classical and modern. I minor in dramatics.”
Michael tensed as JZ, smirking, asked, “So what, y’all be dancing down the halls and in the cafeteria like High School Musical?”
If Rob took offense at the stereotype, he hid it well, rolling good-naturedly along. “Yup, all the time. Now that Mike has a chance to go to the Carter, he’ll see for himself.” He chuckled. “The nondance majors are the ones you see standing on the tables singing in the HSM numbers.”
JZ frowned at Michael. “What would you go to the Carter for?” His face eased into a smile, as he joked. “So, what, you’re really a rapper or singer trying get that label deal? You been holding out on us, Money Mike?”
Michael shook his head, but couldn’t form the words fast enough. Rob happily supplied answers.
“It’s a new program for fashion design,” Rob said, happy to trump Michael’s prowess for him. “Mike could be like a trailblazer, for real.”
“Is it like an after-school thing for credit?” Brian said, genuinely curious.
“No. He’d have to transfer to the Carter for his senior year,” Rob said.
“Man, that’s crazy,” JZ said. He looked from Michael to Rob, as if questioning if they understood how little sense it made, then proceeded to tell them when neither stepped up to agree. “Mike, for real, why would you go to another school your last year? That’s like ... being the star player of a team and then being benched during the most important half of the game.”
Michael’s heart raced as a scowl spread across Rob’s face. He wanted to reply, step in before one of them said something he wouldn’t be able to fix, but the words were caged in his chest, unable to free themselves.
“Man, it ain’t like that at all.” Rob hastily tucked his scarf under his chin. He looked JZ in the eye, unflinching. “It’s like you being scouted and asked to play pro right out of high school. Are you saying you’d turn the Lakers down if they wanted to make you their next Kobe?”
JZ snorted, his eyes hardening at the challenge. “They not offering him a job, they offering him a slot at a school. How is that the same?”
“He could get into a good fashion school or maybe even get a job with a designer. That’s how,” Rob said with a mix of offense and snootiness. “Everybody can’t make it by bouncing a ball, man.”
Michael felt it coming, knew JZ was ready to say something worthy of causing a brawl. He forced out the words, now stuck in his throat, projecting them so loud, he startled the guys. “I’m not going.” He repeated it, more for himself than them. “I’m not going to the Carter.”
His chest rose and fell, laboring from the effort. Puffs of cold smoke gathered in front of his mouth before dissolving. JZ, Rob, and Brian stared at him.
Anger poured from Rob’s eyes, burning a hole through Michael.
Michael looked away from the stinging glare, unable to face the truth of his cowardice in it. Instead he faced the smug victory in JZ’s face, felt the fist-pumping triumph surging from JZ in invisible waves.
If JZ felt he’d won, he wouldn’t go on the offensive.
The tension in Michael’s chest gave way to relief.
Relief that he’d averted a war between his friends.
Relief that the night was over once and for all.
Relief that for JZ, this would be forgotten in the morning. He’d won, so this would be a hazy, extraneous memory tied to Michael’s “hobby” they never discussed.
He’d smooth things over with Rob on the ride to Del Rio’s Crossing or tomorrow or the day after. If it took a few days, that was okay; he didn’t have to see Rob everyday like he did JZ.
He and JZ were boys from way back. Like it or not, he had to play to that loyalty, right now. And the truth was he didn’t disagree with JZ. Switching schools his last year made about as much sense to him as deciding to start school from scratch, after thirteen years, by going to college.
Some things just aren’t for everybody, he told himself.
He wasn’t knocking college or the Carter; they just weren’t for him.
He’d have to make Rob understand that somehow.
Hot Duke Boys
“I’ma fly girl and I like those ... hot boyz.”
—Missy Elliott, “Hot Boyz”
The thick scent of perspiration and socks worn one day too many coated the gym. If anyone noticed or cared, their protests were lost in the crowd’s excited hum and the canned music blaring from the speakers.
The Blue Devils were wiping up the floor with Poly, a team from Baltimore City. Normally one of the state’s best teams, Poly was struggling to keep the Blue Devils in check, and the overwhelmingly DRB High crowd was feeding off the usually stellar team’s struggles.
Mina stood among her squad mates, huddled on the sideline, their bubbling conversation overflowing with talk of the game, crush-worthiness of the Poly boys, and of JZ’s New Year’s Eve party. Caught up in the babble, Mina eyed the time clock—five more minutes left—then stole a glance Brian’s way.
“Don’t worry, girl, he’s still there,” Kelis said, elbowing Mina’s side.
“I was looking at the time clock.” Mina blew out an exaggerated sigh. “You know Coach Em will have a fit if we’re not back in the cheer line at exactly thirty seconds left.”
“Uh-huh, sure, that’s what you were looking at... .” Kelis darted her eyes toward the clock, then to Brian’s seat thirty yards in the opposite direction, to show how far the two were apart.
She and Mina laughed. They were tentative friends and even that wasn’t the right definition. They’d been squad mates since recreation cheerleading, but their constant quest to be top cheerleader made for a tense, fragile friendship. They shared cheerleading in common and not much else, unless you counted the time they shared Craig, which Mina didn’t.
He’d been Mina’s boyfriend at the time. Kelis had kissed him. He and Mina had broken up. End of story.
Mina didn’t harbor much fire for the old grudge anymore, and Kelis had never seen it as a source of contention in the first place. She was eerily casual about those kinds of things in a way Mina refused to understand. Bottom line, she was way over Craig, who’d graduated the same year as Brian, and Kelis had been dating Beau, a senior on the football team, since the fiasco.
In small doses, she and Kelis peacefully coexisted.
“I don’t blame you though.” Kelis smoothed a stray hair, tucking it behind her ear. She openly ogled Brian, who sat in a front row bleacher surrounded by fellow Blue Devil alumni. “He fine as ever. It’s like whatever they have in the water at Duke is agreeing with him, for real.”
Mina nodded slightly, bypassing a formal answer. What was she going to say, “Gee thanks for scoping out my BF”?
Knowing Kelis, Mina figured she should probably be grateful that Kelis wasn’t actively gunning for Brian, just for sport.
Kelis and Beau’s relationship was shaky, due to his constant cheating and her propensity to flirt, but they’d lasted this long. Mina had no reason to believe it wouldn’t go the distance until he graduated. Still, she didn’t trust Kelis as far she
could see her when it came to Brian. But showing fear or insecurity around Kelis wasn’t too bright.
Mina peeked Brian’s way again. He laughed at something Stefan, a former teammate of his, said, but not hard enough that he missed the Poly cheerleaders walking by, heading to the visitor sideline.
Jealousy tapped Mina’s chest, knocking her blood pressure up a notch as Brian’s eyes appraised a few of the cheerleaders head to toe. His eye lingered on the last cheerleader, a tiny-waisted light-skinned chick with brown hair to her shoulders. Her phat butt swayed in the pleated skirt, tick-tocking side to side as she moved past the Blue Devil alums.
Grilling her down, Stefan said something to Brian and they knocked fists before laughing uproariously.
Kelis turned toward Mina, nearly face to face, cutting them off from the rest of the squad’s chatter. Her brown eyes were wide and slightly too far apart in her light brown face, but Kelis wasn’t unattractive by any definition, and she knew it. She carried herself with a level of confidence that came from years of people feeding her compliments about her firm build, thick brownish-black hair, and rosebud lips. It came off as flirtatious bossiness when she was around guys and as tempered patience with her female peers.
Kelis got on her nerves, but still Mina envied the ease with which she went about everything. It was as if nothing bothered her, a trait Mina would have given her right arm to have at the moment.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Kelis said, shaking her head.
Mina scowled. “Do what?”
“You must be cool with him seeing other people while he’s at school. Right?”
Mina worked to keep her face blank. But her heart thumped in time to the music playing overhead. She took her time answering, unsure where Kelis was going with it but needing to know.
“He’s three hundred miles away. I can’t control what he does,” Mina said, not believing a word of it but proud of herself for pulling it off.
Kelis’s right eyebrow steepled. “Hmm ... I always figured you’d be the clingy type, Mina—no harm.” She smiled a condescending smirk that whispered that she knew good and well Mina was the clingy type. “I tell you what, though, that’s better than sitting home stuffing your face with cookies and ice cream worrying ’bout what he’s doing. Shoot, Beau already said that either we’re breaking up when he goes to college next year or I better be cool with him doing what he wants.” Her laugh was shrill. “I was like, dude, please, like you’re not doing what you want now. He’s a trip.” Her shoulders hitched in time to the music.
Mina’s mind raced alongside the club mix playing as she tried to get Kelis back on track. “Well, me and Brian didn’t sit and talk it out like that,” she said, choosing her words carefully, hoping they prompted Kelis to reveal more. “But you know, three hundred miles is no joke.”
“I know, right.You know what I say, girl? Shoot, get yours.” She bumped shoulders with Mina as if they’d solidly agreed. “Still, I know you gotta be tripping over some of the stuff on that message board.” She scowled at Mina’s confused squint, then smacked her hand over her mouth in mock horror. “My bad. You didn’t know about the site, did you?”
“What site?” Mina said, keeping the high-pitch anxiety to a minimum.
“Uh-oh, I didn’t mean to out him,” Kelis said, looking over Mina’s shoulder toward Brian’s bleacher seat.
“Out what?” Mina said, hearing the panic in her voice. She looked up at the clock. Time counted down swiftly. Kelis had one more minute to spill. She swallowed and calmed her speeding thoughts as the squad spread out around her, gently herding her along the sideline back to her cheer spot. “What site?”
Checking the time herself, Kelis spoke hurriedly, lingering by Mina. “It’s this forum called Hot Duke Boys, and Brian is the featured hottie of the month, girl. The site is tripping. It has a message board and chat section for all the groupies. The juiciest bits are from girls at the school posting about stuff that happens on campus—the hottest guys on the yard and who they’ve hooked up with.” Her words sped up as the buzzer toned. “Look, if you really are cool with him doing whatever when he’s at school, it’s nothing to trip about. I think some of the girls are lying anyway.” Her voice rose over the announcer, welcoming everyone to the second half of the game. “Let me go before Coach trips.”
She walked to her end of the cheer line, leaving Mina openmouthed.
The words Hot Duke Boys rang in her ears the rest of the night. Nothing would blast the words from her mind—not the joking of the clique while at Rio’s Ria after the game or Todd and JZ’s overzealous happiness at the 94–78 win over Poly.
Hours later, the clique gone their separate ways and her curfew hovering, she and Brian sat cozy on the sofa in the sunroom of her house. He snuck long, laborious pecks at her neck, threatening to leave a mark, in between peeking toward the door on parent alert.
“They’re knocked out asleep,” Mina said, anticipating his usual question about her parent’s whereabouts.
Brian scooped her closer to him. He laughed a TV villain cackle. “So I got their baby girl all to myself, helpless, huh?”
His lips nibbled at her neck, then ears, feeling their way around her face until they landed on her lips. She kissed back halfheartedly even as her face and body warmed, enjoying the attention.
Brian drew back, squinting at her through the shadows flickering from the television.
“What’s up? You okay?”
Mina nodded.
Brian slid his arms under Mina’s butt and lifted her onto his lap. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have”—he stared up at the ceiling, pretending to calculate—“about fifty-five hours before I gotta book it back to school. We could spend the time violating every rule your parents ever made.” He smiled devilishly, then scowled in contrition. “Or we could share our feelings. I’m sure you know which one I want do, but you’re taking some of the fun out of it by not enjoying it. So ...” He looked Mina in the eye, serious. “What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet since after the game.”
Mina wriggled her way off his lap. She sat cross-legged, facing him. “You ever heard of Hot Duke Boys?”
A shadow flickered across his face. Mina wasn’t sure if it was emotion or the television. She willed herself to remain quiet, heart galloping, as she waited for his answer.
He shrugged dismissively. “Yeah. It’s like a fan forum. Why?”
Mina was unable to articulate her questions without whining. She played it close, keeping her answer simple. “I just heard about it and wondered if you had.”
He peered at her. “You ever been to it?”
Mina shook her head no and was sure Brian relaxed as he said, “I mean, I don’t know what else to say but that it’s a fan site.”
“I heard it’s more like a groupie site,” she said, biting back an accusation.
Brian laughed. “Yeah, that’s about right too.”
She hated how often she needed a lifeline, but clung to his laughter like a person adrift at sea would hold on to a plank of wood. His voice, casual, relaxed her and she listened unguarded. She was doing this more and more, holding on to every little word, sign, and quirk that Brian was being faithful.
“It’s like a wiki. Anybody can add information to it.” He shrugged.
“A lot of the stuff on there is true. But not all of it.” His fingers raked through his curls, fluffing the hair to perfect disarray, as he chuckled. “It was kind of cool to be on there at first. Seriously, it’s also a little scary to have your business out there like that. But I don’t buy into the hype.” He glanced at her, sideways, teasing. “What? You worried about the competition?”
Mina peered through the flickering shadows. “Should I be?”
He cracked his knuckles. “You do you, toughie,” he said, sliding down an inch on the sofa, putting some distance between them. “But I can’t do nothing about what other people are saying about me.”
A tense moment of silence hung in the air until Mina leaned in
, her face inches from his. He took the hint and kissed her, soft on the lips. Before closing her eyes, she saw him give her a hungry look and lick his lips.
His hands went to her hips, pulling her flush against him, and she willingly climbed back onto his lap. He might be Hot Duke Boy #1 on the groupie site, but based on his roaming hands and hungry lips, he was her groupie tonight.
It wasn’t until the next afternoon—exhausted from flip-flopping the desk, bed, and shelves in her bedroom—when she sat at the PC for a well-earned break that idle curiosity about the site set in.
She was still high from the night before. She and Brian had smothered themselves in one another, wrapped in mushy exchanges of how much they’d missed one another and how much more they would once he returned to school.
Hot Duke Boys who?
Yet her fingers scampered across the keyboard, typing the term into Google.
A spread of ten pages popped up. She waded through five pages of links about the Dukes of Hazzard and various other dukes—including Duke Ellington, some swing band, and an inexplicable link to something about hot pink boy toys—and was ready to call it quits.
I’ll just get the link from Kelis, she thought—and then her eyes stopped on a description:
Groupie Love’s the go-to source when you’re trying to find your guy.
A message from Jacinta popped up before she could click the link.
CinnyBon: ’sup GF?
BubbliMi: jus finished remodeling my room
CinnyBon: ummm ... yeah somebody is b-o-r-e-d
BubbliMi: ::raising my hand:: ever heard of Hot Duke Boys? CinnyBon: nope. What is it?
BubbliMi: some sort of fan site. Kelis told me about it, said Brian was all the rage on it. So I wuz gonna check it CinnyBon: lord somebody ready get their feelings hurt up in here. Y bother Mi?
Mina flushed, but Jacinta’s scorn didn’t dissuade her. She clicked on the link and drew in a breath. Groupie Love was right. The site wasn’t just a Duke thing, by a long shot. She scanned the endless list of categories: Purdue University, Georgetown, UCLA, USC, Michigan, Duke University, and just about every other NCAA Division I school was listed. It was an entire world dedicated to girls (and guys, she supposed) obsessed with high-profile students.