Tilly paused for a minute. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t change her mind about talking to me. I wanted to hear anything from her at this point. She had never told me much about her childhood, just that her high school years in the Bronx were the worst.
“A girl approached me in the hallway one of my first days at that school and asked me if I wanted to sit with her and her friends during lunch. I didn’t know anyone else, so I said yes. I didn’t understand until later how bad of a decision it was to align myself with this group of girls. I just wanted to fit in and have friends.”
Tilly seemed to be in some kind of trance, as if the girls were sitting right in front of her and she was telling them her side of the story. She continued softly.
“Once I got to the table, the girls created a list of tasks that I had to complete in order to gain their full friendship. Each task was a little harder than the other, and a little more illegal than the one before it. But I did every last one of them. I wanted to be friends with them so badly. When the list was completed, I thought I was done. But I was wrong.”
Tilly’s voice started to crack and she squeezed my hand hard.
“I knew those girls weren’t worth my time, but I let it continue anyway, just so I wasn’t alone. A few nights later, I got invited to a slumber party. The girls took turns yelling questions in my face and then spitting at me when the answers weren’t right. The next day at school they apologized and told me they were only having fun with me. I forgave them right away, but the next night it was more of the same, except they wanted to see how much pain I could handle. One girl would pull my hair and see how long it took me to scream. I came home with so many patches of my hair missing that my mother thought I’d been in a fight. And now that I think about it, I was in a fight. Those girls punched at me and kicked at me like I was a robber trying to take away all of their money. It was almost two weeks before I spoke to them again, but they convinced me, somehow, that things would be different. This time I followed them on the train to a part of New York I’d never been to. We were supposed to be touring a new neighborhood together. I turned my back for a second and they were gone. I had to find my own way home. Eventually, I learned to start making decisions for myself again. These girls were not my friends and as soon as I realized that, I was better off.”
The tears were flowing from my eyes. A little boy sitting across the train car handed us tissues from his backpack. I reached for the tissues and tried to clean myself up. Tilly went through some pain, too. I guess we all had to go through something.
I held Tilly’s arm to help her off the train and followed her through the turnstile and out onto the street.
“Wow, Tilly, I didn’t know you went through anything like that,” I told her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
“Tash, all the girls at Amber’s Place have a story, including you and me. This building we meet in is named for a girl who couldn’t handle the pain of her abuser anymore. Amber Chambers ended up taking her own life. But that’s what the girls are learning here: We are stronger than any pain that may come into our lives. That’s what Amber’s Place is all about. Baby, there is going to be struggle in your life that you can’t possibly prepare yourself for, but let me tell you from experience, if you run from it, it’ll just follow you to another place in your life. You have to learn to face your fears.”
We stood in front of Amber’s Place and Tilly wrapped me in a big hug. My heart beat uncontrollably at the thought of walking through those doors. But, with Tilly’s encouragement, I was ready to face Monique again.
“I really hope you decide to stay and plan this recognition ceremony, but I understand if you can’t,” she said, looking at me as if she were waiting for my answer on the spot.
Tilly squeezed my hand again and walked toward the entrance. Before she got too far away, I called out to her. “I’ll do my best,” I said. Tilly nodded and I followed her inside.
Group time went by uneventfully. The girls stared at me and I stared right back. My life at home was so easy compared to what I was facing here. I had no idea how to help these girls, when I needed some myself. But I had to stay and figure it out. When Red dismissed us, I walked toward the gym, carrying Rex’s words and Tilly’s advice along with me.
“Whose side you gonna be on today, Sellout?”
Quiana started in on me as soon as I walked through the gym doors. Coach was late so I was on my own, sort of like Tilly was on her first few days of school. The image of Tilly’s hair being pulled had stuck with me. Nothing Quiana said to me now could affect me the way she wanted. I pictured her in Tilly’s story. Quiana was the one pulling at Tilly’s hair. My face grew hotter and hotter every time she opened her mouth. But I was not going to let her win.
“Maybe if we help you, you’ll know which side you belong on,” Quiana said.
She and her girls had me surrounded. Every girl in the gym looked our way, but no one moved. Quiana had everyone under her spell. Even Shaunda shook her head and looked the other way. I guess she figured she had rescued me enough already.
Quiana and Rochelle surrounded me. Rochelle stood so close behind me I could smell her cheap perfume.
“Leave me alone, Quiana,” I told her, my skin starting to crawl. “You don’t bother me.”
“Oh, yes I do,” she laughed. “If I didn’t, your face wouldn’t be all red and your body wouldn’t shake like a little leaf.”
The girls laughed. I just stared right through them. Pretended they weren’t even there.
“I’m shaking because I can’t wait to beat your team out there today,” I said.
“Yeah, whatever, Sellout,” Quiana said now. “We’ll see just how good you play today. Rochelle is the best player here.”
Their team nodded and slapped hands with one another. Rochelle was a little too close for comfort. If I stepped back at all, I’d be lying in her lap.
“Yeah, I guess we will see,” I said too confidently.
Rochelle had about three inches on me and her width was the size of a quarterback. Clearly, she could take me out with one swing, but I pretended not to care.
The girls laughed and started to shove one another playfully, intentionally bumping me around. The picture of Tilly in a circle being shoved around just like me popped into my head and I clenched my fists tightly.
“Cut it out,” I told them, trying to push my way out of their trap.
They laughed and kept shoving. I saw Tilly back on the train with her head down. I pushed them back as hard as I could and knocked Quiana down. All the laughter stopped at once.
Rochelle grabbed on to a chunk of my hair and yanked my head back. I could see Quiana struggling to get onto her feet quickly. Everything was silent now. Every eye was on us.
“You bitch,” Rochelle screamed. “You’re really gonna get it now.”
“You just don’t know when to quit do you, Sellout?” Quiana yelled.
The gym doors flung open and Coach West came barreling in, the whistle blowing loudly between her lips.
“We’ll settle this later,” Quiana whispered. “That’s a promise.”
I joined my team but stayed clear of Shaunda, who waved me over. I was just as angry at her as at Quiana at the moment. Where had she been a few minutes ago?
“Okay, ladies, let’s get changed and ready to play,” Coach said. “We have a match to settle. When you get back, grab a ball and separate into your teams.”
I pulled on my gym shorts and T-shirt and laced up my tennis shoes as fast as I could. This was my chance to shine out on the volleyball court.
Back in the gym I joined my team and prayed for a miracle. Two girls next to me had taken the time to braid their shoelaces into a pretty pattern. They reminded me of Heather and Stephanie and their stupid matching haircuts. Shaunda stood behind me and ran her fingers through her hair over and over again. This would be a long match. None of the girls on my team seemed to care whether we won or lost.
I wondered i
f anyone besides Quiana and Rochelle noticed how out of place I was on my team. There was a clear separation of color. I was on the team of girls with white skin and long hair. I stood out like a sore thumb. Quiana and her gang smirked at me from the other side of the court.
“NaTasha, is everything okay?” Coach asked, before we started. She must have seen that I was surrounded by trouble as she flew into the gym. I glanced over at Quiana, who stared at me with an all-too-eager look in her eyes.
“Everything’s fine,” I said.
“This is going to be fun,” Rochelle said, directly across the net from me.
Coach blew her whistle and the match began. Soon all I could hear were the grunts after a hit, the squealing of shoes skidding across the floor, and the whistling of the ball slamming into the net. Rochelle was good. She made every set that was sent her way. Every time I raised both hands ready to receive a ball over the net, she reached higher to connect with the ball.
We rotated every point until my turn to serve came. I took position outside the line and held the ball outstretched in my left hand.
“Choke, bitch,” Quiana pretended to cough into her hand. The girls on her squad laughed.
I served while they were still laughing at Quiana and scored a point for our team. My team gathered together in the center of the court and cheered. It wasn’t game point yet, but it felt good.
“That was the last one, Sellout,” Rochelle yelled to me.
“Okay, girls, let’s keep up a positive playing atmosphere,” Coach yelled, behind her clipboard. Positive playing atmosphere…How could she be so oblivious?
Rochelle had new fire in her eyes. I served again and this time Quiana’s team was more than ready. We passed back and forth a few times, and then Rochelle hit a line drive at my head.
“Miss it, Sellout,” Quiana yelled again from her spot on the court.
I swung too soon and the ball smacked me in the nose before I could slam it back over the net. I felt my face explode like an overfilled dam.
My team surrounded me. Through their muscled legs, I could still see the huddle of girls across the floor congratulating Rochelle for taking me out of the game. Coach decided the amount of blood coming from my nose was enough to send me to the nurse. I wanted back in.
I was completely covered by the time I reached Gracie, a volunteer nurse at Amber’s Place.
“Dios mío! What happened?” she asked, sounding alarmed.
“Oh, just a volleyball accident,” I told her. My nose felt like it wasn’t there anymore. My whole face throbbed and hurt even worse when Gracie applied alcohol on it with a gauze pad. I felt around to see if my bones were still there. Gracie pushed my hands aside. Her gloves were covered with my blood.
I wondered if Tilly had ever had a bloody face from the girls who tormented her. It was hard picturing my grandmother with a bloody face, or playing volleyball for that matter. Somehow, Tilly had survived and learned how to handle herself with people. And now she always knew the right things to say and the right way to act. I had to learn, too. Gracie wiped my face clean and put a bandage over my nose, but it felt like my whole head was wrapped like a mummy.
“You want me to call Tilly for you?” Grade asked.
Although I wanted Tilly, I didn’t want to disturb her or make her worry. I sure didn’t want Quiana and Rochelle to think they’d gotten the best of me.
“No, thanks, Gracie, I’ll be okay,” I said. I sounded like I had the worst sinus infection of my life. “I’m going back to the gym.”
Gracie gave me an unsure look, like she didn’t want to send me back to the wolves, but I didn’t give her much choice. I hugged her quickly and walked out of her office and back toward the gym.
When I got there, the girls got a good laugh at my bandaged nose. The game was still going. Rochelle’s team had the lead. Coach came over to see how I was doing.
“I’m ready to play, Coach. You can put me in,” I told her. I was ready for Rochelle this time. I wouldn’t take my eyes off of her. This was my only chance to get back at her. Coach stopped me before I made it onto the court.
“I don’t think so, NaTasha,” she said. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax for the rest of the game. I don’t want any more accidents for today.”
The look on Rochelle’s face said it all. They had won. It didn’t matter what the score was. I had been defeated.
“Yeah, Sellout, why don’t you just sit back and relax,” Quiana said. “By the way, I like your bandage. It matches.”
“What’s your problem anyway?” I asked her.
Quiana dropped the ball and walked straight toward me. My insides started to rumble. Coach blew her whistle, but no one listened.
“What did you say, Sellout?” she asked.
She stepped toe-to-toe with me. My heart dropped. If I played my cards right, she wouldn’t hit me in the nose.
“Why do you call me that?” I asked, trying to steady my voice. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on my top lip and around my forehead. I didn’t dare move to wipe.
“Because you are a sellout, stupid,” she said angrily. “You have no idea who you are. You think you’re a white girl and you think you’re better than the rest of us.”
She was glaring at me like I had tried to hurt her or something.
“No, I am not and no, I do not,” I shot back. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Relax, girls,” Coach yelled. “Let’s get back to the match.”
Even though I wanted to confront Quiana, I could feel the tears welling up. I looked up at the rectangular fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling so the tears would stay in place. When I looked back at Quiana, I could tell she wasn’t going to let this go. Her teeth were clenched, along with her fists, and her temples pulsed. She looked like a bull ready to charge.
“You talk like a white girl, you dress like a white girl, and you even wear your hair like a white girl,” she pointed out. “And you mean to tell me you don’t think you’re a white girl? You’re more stupid than I thought.”
Tilly popped into my head again.
“I’m not stupid, Quiana,” I said.
Coach blew the whistle loudly. Quiana and I both ignored the loud warning.
“Yeah, you are, Sellout,” she said.
“No, I’m not,” I told her, my voice rising to match her own.
“Yeah, you definitely are,” she said, laughing now. I crossed my arms over my chest and ignored the steady stream of loud whistles coming from Coach. She wedged herself in between Quiana and me. Every eye was on us to see how we were going to settle our score.
“Well, I can’t imagine what you’re fighting about with a girl who hasn’t been here long enough to pick a fight with anyone, Quiana,” Coach said. “You must want to sit out the rest of the game.”
“Coach, she’s a rat, and you know how I feel about that,” Quiana said confidently. “You mess with me or my girls and I’m gonna give you what you ask for.”
She said it to Coach, but it was really meant for me. I had no idea what Quiana was talking about. Me? Messing with her friends? As if I would dare mess with any of them.
“But I didn’t do anything, Quiana,” I said.
“My girl Monique says otherwise,” she shouted back, “and she’s not here right now because of you.”
Rochelle was standing behind Quiana, glaring at me. What had Monique told them? I wasn’t a rat. I hadn’t said anything about Monique to anyone. My heartbeat jumped into my stomach. I had to bend over a little in order to steady my breathing.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Coach said, pointing her finger at Quiana. “You’re out. Sit down and watch the game, because that’s all you’re going to be doing for a while. NaTasha, you feel well enough to play again? It looks like it is more dangerous right now for you off the court than on.”
I nodded and followed my team back into the game.
CHAPTER TEN
COACH WANTED TO see me in Red’s office afte
r the match was over. I dressed in record time to beat the locker room traffic—wild girls who liked to bully me in secluded places.
“NaTasha, come on in,” Red called to me. Coach was sitting in one of the comfy chairs near the door.
“Hey, Coach. Hey, Red,” I said, leaving the door open behind me. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check in with you to see how your first couple of days have gone here,” Red said, moving her computer keyboard off of her lap and back onto her desk.
They leaned forward and looked intently at me, like they really cared about what I had to say. I wasn’t so sure. Coach had now witnessed my torture firsthand. Maybe this was her way of reaching out to me. But I wasn’t ready for her help just yet.
“Oh, thanks, but everything is fine,” I told them.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to share with us?” Red asked. She opened a manila folder, similar to the one Monique was stealing earlier. “It can stay between us if that makes you feel more comfortable.”
Red wanted me to rat on Monique. That would just give Quiana and her gang real reason to rip me to shreds. I pled the fifth.
“Nope, everything is fine,” I told Red, even as she eyed all of the bumps and bruises that had appeared on me in the past few days. “The match got a little rough today, that’s all.”
Coach looked at me then and cleared her throat. She and I hadn’t had a whole lot of time together, but she understood my look of desperation, the one pleading with her to keep quiet.
“The match was a rough one for her, Red,” Coach answered after a long pause. “But NaTasha is a great player. You should come and watch the girls play sometime soon.”
Red seemed unsure that everything really was okay, but promised she’d come by to see for herself when she got the chance.
“Okay, then, NaTasha, are you still on board to help with the reception ceremony?” she asked, changing the subject.
She handed me a list of guidelines and procedures to read over when I got home. I took the paper from her and perused it while she kept talking.
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