by Paula Chase
“Why would you say that?” Mina said in a high-pitched whisper. She could barely contain her frustration. “We’ve been friends since we were five years old and ...”
“And Michael never bothered to tell you until recently and he never told me. So did we really know him?”
“I can’t pretend it didn’t hurt to know he’d already told Lizzie,” Mina said.
JZ’s eyes popped wide. “So Lizzie knew? For how long?”
“Since freshman year, apparently,” she mumbled.
JZ shook his head up at the ceiling. “See, that’s what I mean. Man, secrets is bull.” He cocked his head and squinted at Mina. “Now the two of them kept this from us and we’re supposed to be like this.” He held two fingers together. “Come on, Mina, that’s not right and you know it.”
Mina touched his thigh. “I don’t disagree, but it’s not anything we should end our friendship over.”
JZ chuckled. “Only you would say that, TV Land.”
Mina hadn’t heard that nickname in a while. In middle school, Michael and JZ used to torture her with the name, teasing her for her belief that everything could be wrapped up nice and neat, ideally in thirty minutes like the old-school reruns on TV Land. She hated being teased about being a bright-eyed optimist, but had grown to feel it had to be somebody’s job to be the optimist, so she embraced it and admitted as much to JZ.
“Well, you and Michael are beefing right now but you’ll work it out.” She shrugged at his skeptical glance. “If I don’t believe it, no one else will. And if no one believes it, it won’t happen.” The pain in JZ’s eyes made her heart ache.
He flicked her under the chin with his knuckle. “Go ’head and believe it, Mi. But only me and Michael can make it happen.”
Her eyes welled. “Are you saying you’re not going to try?”
“Just saying ...” JZ looked past her for so long, Mina was tempted to turn and see what was behind her. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “Mike was right. He need to get his. Do his thing. Go some place where he’s not the sidekick.” He chuckled, wistfully. “That’s why Batman works alone.”
“What does that have to do with y’all making up?” Mina frowned.
“Sometimes friendships die, Mi.” He swiped angrily at his eye. “Mike gotta dip and I gotta respect that.”
“But y’all can do all that and still be friends.”
Mina’s heart raced as JZ shook his head, disagreeing.
“I don’t know Mike no more, Mina.”
Mina pulled JZ’s arm, as if physically trying to bring him to her place of thought. “Jay, don’t say that.” She tugged on his arm, then smashed it down, angry. “Don’t say that.”
JZ leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thigh. He spoke toward the floor. “So is Rob his ... boyfriend?” His body flinched on the last word.
“No,” Mina said, dully. “They’re just friends, like you and him were ... are friends.”
JZ turned his head toward her. Mina looked him in the eye.
“Real talk. They’re just friends.”
She turned away, wiping at a stray tear, when she saw JZ’s eyes glisten.
“I know Michael’s mad right now, but he ...” she stopped when JZ stood up abruptly.
“All right, Mouthy Mi, time for me to jet.”
“So that’s it?” Her eyes gleamed fiery accusation. “You just gonna break up the clique like that?”
JZ stretched. He put his hoodie up on his head. His voice was tired. He was over the conversation, Mina could feel it.
“The clique not broken up, Mina. We’re all off doing our own thing most of the time anyway... . I bet after a few days you won’t even know the difference.”
Mina started to refute him, but stopped. Lately, their get-togethers with all of them present were far and few between. It was hard enough coordinating against six schedules to get together, but even random, spontaneous gatherings among two of them at once were near extinct as demands from their lives mandated attention.
JZ dangled his arm around her in a choke hold, then moved it around her shoulder.
“You still my girl, though, Mouthy Mi.”
Mina wrapped her arms around him, clinging until he returned the embrace.
She looked up at him. “What about Cinny?”
His mouth was a half-moon smile. “She ratted me out already, huh?”
Mina nodded.
“I’ll set things right with her if she ever talks to me again.”
“Why can’t you do the same thing with Michael?” Mina pleaded.
JZ squeezed her once, then let go. He took several long-legged steps and was out the door before Mina could say anything else.
Umma Do Me
“ ’Cause life is way too short and I can’t wait no more.”
—Lesley Roy, “I’m Gone, I’m Going”
Michael awoke early the next morning. It was Saturday, but he had work to do.
His hand instinctively rubbed his jaw. JZ got a good right hook, he thought, wincing.
He grimaced as the pain shot through his entire face. He didn’t even want to know what he looked like. No need to see the representation of the stinging, aching, and itchiness that buzzed across every inch. Besides, if Rob’s reaction, the night before, was any indication, his face was probably a good mix between Will Smith in Hitch when his face swelled up from eating seafood, and any Ultimate Fighter, winner or loser.
Unable to resist, his hands roamed the terrain. His left eye was soft and puffy. His right cheek jagged. His jaw swollen.
Good thing it was the weekend. By Monday ... he stopped himself from thinking about Monday, Tuesday, or any day he and JZ would have to roam the halls together. His stomach rumbled and he forced himself out of bed.
He padded over to the mini-fridge in his room and grabbed an orange juice. The sting from the acid tore into his lip, squelching his appetite immediately.
Okay, so I’m not going out or eating today, he thought.
It was just as well. He had to finish one final design. He thought he’d have the entire summer to finish it, but the fight with JZ changed the priority of the outfit.
He turned on his iPod, placed the volume as loud as he dared without waking his grandmother—he definitely didn’t feel like going there with her questions—and headed to the costume dummy in the far right corner.
He’d always wanted to be able to spend all day just designing and sketching, designing and sketching. But class work, Bay Dra-da fittings and meetings, and kicking it with the clique often kept him from tackling some of his more ambitious ideas.
Today was the day to make good on the dream.
He walked to the work table and laid out some charcoal fabric. The scissor made a whispery schk, schk sound as it ate across the material, emphasizing how quiet the room was.
He looked up and scoped out the spacious basement bedroom. The room felt huge without the clique. Images of them hanging out while he worked on his latest project flashed in his mind. Their hyper overtalking both distracted and fueled him.
The room’s silence tormented him.
He turned up the music a few notches, willing his mind to focus.
In three more months he’d be staying in the Carter dorms in DC anyway—might as well get used to something new.
He shut out his thoughts and let his hands take over.
Getting Out More
“I make this look too easy.”
—Jay–Z, “Party Life”
“Stupid phone,” Mina said, sending invisible hatred waves to her cellie. She hoped they reached Brian’s phone in Durham. She’d been calling him since she awoke an hour before, but his phone was dead or off. She hung up, sent him a text message—Life here sux!—then plopped down cross-legged on the floor in the middle of her room and stared insolently into the closet.
A sea of clothes stared back and yet she still had no idea what to wear to Jill Ling’s party. The idea of having to put too much thought into choosing an o
utfit for a party she didn’t really want to go to only made her want to flake on Vic and cry cramps or flu or something. But as soon as she considered sending Vic a message begging out, she thought about Brian telling her to get out more.
She’d get out all right, with sexy Vic, and see how much Mr. Brian James liked that.
She would prove to him she had plenty to do, even though the last place she wanted to be was at a party with the Glams.
It would have been just bearable, if all was right in her clique, but watching Jessica, Mari-Beth, Jill Ling, and the other Stepford friends enjoy themselves as a tight group tonight would be hell.
Her eyes took in the variety in her closet—miniskirts galore hanging on one bar, blouses and dressy shirts next to them, dozens and dozens of folded tee shirts, more jeans than she knew what to do with. But her mind couldn’t put an outfit together.
She brightened when her cell chirped. It was Lizzie.
R u up?
She typed back eagerly, glad for a distraction.
Yup. Whutrudoin up so early?
She nodded in agreement to Lizzie’s response:
Cldnt sleep. 2 much drama last nt
And commiserated: me either been up since 7. blegh! JZ came by last nt.
A message came in immediately, surprising her.
Dag, Liz, your fingers burning up the keyboard today, she thought, laughing, until she realized the message was from Brian
’sup, Toughie? Y ur life suck?
Her fingers flew over the keyboard: hey 2 much 2 say but mike n jz got into it lst nite.
She immediately responded to Lizzie’s:
he did? dish!!
With: asked me if mike was gay and I had 2 tell him the truth. its just a mess
She scooted over until her bed brushed her back, then leaned onto the mattress, into the text conversations for the long haul. The rhythm of the two exchanges relaxed her.
She read Brian’s message: wtf? Got into it like jus tlkg shit or throwing bows?!
She mulled over how to explain last night to Brian as she responded to Lizzie’s: I kno. Mike isn’t ansrg his phone. dreading monday!, with: who r u telling?! jz is our ride 2 school. no idea if hes goin 2 jus leave mike behind or what.
She rested her head on the edge of the mattress and stared at the ceiling a few seconds, before responding to Brian with a simple: throwing bows.
Lizzie hit her back: do u thnk they’ll make up?
Mina inflated her cheeks with air. She held her breath a few seconds then blew it out noisily as she answered: truthfully?: No. jz acted like done is done, son. Not sure abt mike but u kno how jz can get ... all stubborn!
Her heart ached with understanding at Lizzie’s response: yeah I feel same way. they said stuff they cant take back. sux majorly!!!!!
Mina had no response. It did suck majorly, no need to restate the obvious. She chuckled at Lizzie’s next message: what? no infamous Mina plan 2 fix things?!
Mina wished she had a plan and she admitted it: nope, wish there was.
Seconds later she followed it with: but its still early u never know ;-)
She didn’t feel as confident as her message, but no need to close the door on the possibility that she could work some magic and get the two best friends back on track. She checked back on the last message from Brian: dam 4 real?!
She didn’t feel like rehashing the whole thing, via text or a phone call. She wanted to forget yesterday or at the very least not have to relive it. She typed back: yeah. its bad. dont feel like goin into it rt now. Kno what I mean?—and hoped Brian didn’t take offense. She smiled, grateful, when he responded: yeah those ur road dogs, I kno u tore up. Feel better baby girl, they’ll wrk it out. U kno how guys do.
I sure do, Mina thought. That’s exactly why she didn’t think it would be as simple as them working it out like nothing ever happened.
She happily switched subjects: called u earlier was ur phone off?—and then fretted that she came off needy. Brian’s “you need to get out more” echoed in her ears.
But his response was a simple: dead. Sitting here now cant move cuz its on the charger.
She laughed as she typed back: ah-ha got ur azz on lock down lol
He played along: I kno rt! lol
So whut u doin 2day? she asked, hoping that wasn’t yet another needy question.
But any annoyance Brian had with her earlier in the week was gone.
Already had prac. Prbly catch a nap, hang out w/pop and jingle.
She chuckled, laughing at the nicknames Brian had given his roommates. Pop was another freshman starter on the team, whose real name was Damian, from upstate New York, where they still called beverages soda pop—something Brian found hilarious. And Jingle was a freshman benchwarmer who had apparently been made to carry the entire team’s keys one day on a huge ring. Brian said he jingled everywhere he went and people heard him coming a mile away. any plans 4 da nite? she typed.
She debated sharing her own plans, especially when his response came back: nope. nuttin.
Oh, so I have something to do and you don’t, she thought, giddy, deciding she’d only share if he asked what her plans were. She typed: whut no hot frat parties 2 go 2?
He replied: Plenty 2 go 2 jus 2 dam tired. Rdy 2 hit the road 4 the tourney soon, got mad work 2 catch up on.
Her heart went out to him. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for him to travel as much as the team did, practice as often as they did, and still have class work to tackle.
Poor baby, she typed, cracking up when he wrote back: u shld come down here and give me a quickie.
Her fingers danced over the keyboard as she laughed: u want me 2 travel 6 hours away 4 a quickie?!?!
LOL quickie, longie jus come down here, he wrote back.
Her heart soared. He wanted to see her. She’d be so glad when March came and went—they could talk more—and then before she knew it, he’d be home early May. Before she could respond, he typed back: gtg Toughie. pop heading out 2 get some grub n im gon roll w/him.
Ttyl she typed.
She closed her eyes, savoring the joy of a normal conversation with Brian and during the hours she was usually awake to boot.
She checked for Lizzie’s last message, saw none, and resumed the stare-off with her closet. Needing an excuse to call him, she dialed Michael under the guise of wanting fashion advice. The call was two rings in and she was about to give up—he certainly hadn’t returned her last twenty calls—when he picked up.
“What’s up, Deev?”
He sounded as tired as Mina felt. Still, she infused her voice with cheerfulness. “Hey, Mike. I need a fashion consult.”
“Dial it down a notch, Diva, you’re blowing up my eardrum.”
Mina giggled.“Sorry.”Without the false cheer, her voice broke. “I just really need your help. I’m going to this Glam party with Vic and I don’t know what to wear.”
“A Glam’s party? Found a new set already?”
He chuckled and Mina burst into tears, caught back in the reality of the other day.
“Diva, I was joking.”
“Mike, I can’t do this. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and I feel like I’ve landed on Mars or something.”
“We’re still cool, Mina.”
“But we’re all not cool and it’s wack.” She wiped her face, determined to be stronger. “Can you at least come over and help me?”
“Seriously, are you really gonna make me leave the house when you know my face looks like a plate of hamburger?”
Mina sniffled as she laughed, surprised that Michael sounded so normal. She attempted to evoke the same stance. “You’re gonna let vanity stand in the way of finding me a tight outfit?”
“And you know this,” Michael said, laughing. “No. It’s not that. I’m in the middle of something and it’s sort of important. Can’t I just talk you through?”
Mina sucked her teeth and pouted.
Michael read her mind. “Stop pouting, girl. I know
your wardrobe like it’s my own.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, refusing to be cheered up.
“Look at you doubting my skills. You’re lucky I’m busy or I’d come over there and boot you in the butt.”
Mina giggled. “Boot. Ha.”
“That’s more like it,” he said in a fatherly reprimand. “All right, let me think for a second... .”
“I could wear jeans. That’s nice and easy.”
“Shhh. How you gonna call me and ask for a consult, then tell me what you should wear?”
“Sorry,” Mina said. She waited silently, browsing the closet from the floor.
“Wear that black cotton mini with the big buttons down the middle, black tights, black boots, three quarter length or knee ... the yellow V-necked long-sleeved shirt.You know, the one that looks like a sweater but isn’t?”
Mina stood up, walked to the closet, and immediately plucked out the shirt. “Yeah.”
“And then wear that black and white houndstooth vest.”
Mina wrinkled her nose. “Black and yellow ... I’m gonna look like a bumble bee.”
Michael sniffed. “A fly bumble bee.”
Mina grabbed all the pieces, holding them up to herself in the mirror, while holding the phone with her chin. She smiled at her image. “All right, all right.Yeah, it’s fly.”
“Hmph, doubting me twice gon’ cost you two boots in the phatty.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
“Welcome, Deev.”
“Next time, though, come over. I don’t like this phone consultation.”
“Get used to it,” he said.
Mina stuck her tongue out at the phone. “What’d you say?” he said, as if he’d seen her.
She laughed. “Nothing. I said our connection breaking up.”
“I hook you up and you pull the old lost call thing on me.You’re not right.”