“Well, they say timing is everything,” I responded. “Speaking of which, it’s about time for me to head to the library. I got so much work to do, it ain’t even funny.”
“For what class?”
“You might as well say all of ’em,” I said, sighing. “Shoot, I’ve got some homework to finish up for my algebra class and a few chapters to read before my African-American history quiz. Plus, I have a group meeting for public policy class over there in a few, too.”
“That’s funny,” she said. “So do I. Mine doesn’t start for a couple of hours, though.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there,” I said.
When I hung up the phone, I felt like I had accomplished something. My first conversation with Leslie was a meaningful one. I thought we covered a lot of ground. And now I had even more incentive to keep Lawry’s little secret. I hoped he stayed in the closet forever. Seconds after I hung up with Leslie, my phone was chiming. I could tell by the ring tone that it was a text message. I assumed it was a message from Timothy reminding me about our biology study session that was supposed to kick off in the library in about 15 minutes.
The text wasn’t from Timothy, it was from Dex. It read: We’re hungry. You’ve got 30 minutes to bring us 20 pieces of chicken from Popeye’s, a bottle of Hennessy and a 12-pack of Corona too.
“Damn,” I murmured.
This request was going to be a problem. Mostly because I couldn’t say no. I had to come through. But I had no idea how I was going to pull it off. First of all, I was definitely going to be late to my first meeting with Timothy, and he was a real stickler for punctuality. I didn’t want to piss him off, because he was my secret weapon to passing biology. I knew I could come up with some kind of excuse for Timothy, though. The real problem I faced was the fact that even though there was a Popeye’s within walking distance of the campus, there was no way I’d be able to get the chicken and the liquor and get back to the Kappa house in under half an hour. It was impossible. I needed a car. And even if I got a car, I’d need someone who was 21 to buy the drinks for me. And even if I had a car and someone to buy the drinks, I didn’t have the money to pay for all that stuff on my own. I had to think quick. I only had three options. Fats was well over 21, but he didn’t have a car—only a ten-speed beach cruiser. Dub-B had a fly ride, but he didn’t have a fake ID. When it came down to it, the only person I knew who was 21 with a car who would drop everything to come help me out was Katrina. But after the way I’d dogged her out, I didn’t feel right calling her in this situation. Plus, she was Greek, so she would know something was up. After texting Dex, “Yes, sir,” I knew I was officially on the clock. I immediately called Fresh to see if he could come up with an alternative. He came through in the clutch like a champion. In less than ten minutes, he had some upperclassman he was talking to named Tiffany outside waiting on us in her car. To my surprise, when we hopped in, I saw that she’d already copped the liquor.
“Damn!” I said, surprised. “She already went to the…”
“Yessir!” Fresh said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, then turning around and winking at me to let me know he had her in check. “That’s why she’s my baby.”
“Well, if I’m your baby, why do you smell like some other girl’s perfume?” she asked. “Who you been kissing on this time, Fresh?”
“Perfume?” he asked, sounding guilty as hell. “Girl, you need to quit being so damn insecure. You know I ain’t out here messing around on you. Cut the crap!”
“Oh, I’m not insecure,” she assured him. “I just know you’re a dog! All you men are!”
The two of them kept going back and forth at each other nonstop for the next few blocks. Knowing Fresh, ol’ baby probably had a legitimate excuse to be mad, but from what I could tell, she was definitely on the possessive side. I decided not to jump into the middle of their argument. I was more concerned about getting back to the Kappa house in time. When I looked at my watch, we had approximately 15 minutes to get the chicken and get back.
“You said you needed to go to Popeye’s, right?” she asked between fussin’.
“Yes!” I answered for him, nervously staring at the second hand on my watch. “There’s one right up the street across from the BP gas station.”
“Boy, I know where Popeye’s is,” she said.
Well, put the pedal to the metal, I thought. When we pulled up to Popeye’s with 12 minutes to spare, I figured we were in pretty good shape. However, it just so happened the day we needed chicken was the same day Popeye’s was offering eight pieces of chicken for four bucks. Of course, the drive-thru line was so long it spilled all the way into the street. There had to have been at least twenty cars in line waiting for chicken. Inside was no better. From the car, I could see the line snaked all the way from the cash register to the door. I knew we’d never make it waiting for the drive-thru, and waiting inside was just as pointless. After weighing out my options, I had only one solution.
“Y’all see that Church’s chicken over there?” I asked, pointing across the street.
“Yeah,” Fresh said. “What about it?”
“There’s no line over there,” I said, opening my door and hopping out in the middle of the street. “Y’all go over there and order the chicken.”
“I thought you said we needed Popeye’s,” he said.
“Just get the chicken, and I’ll meet y’all over there in the parking lot,” I said, before turning around and running toward Popeye’s.
Wisely, I bypassed the line and went straight to the counter, where I was told by a lady with red extensions and gold teeth that it was against store policy to give out empty chicken buckets. You’d be surprised how fast a person making minimum wage will bend the rules for a crisp five-dollar bill. By the time Fresh and his girl made it to the pickup window, I was opening her back door and hopping in with a plastic Popeye’s bag and three empty buckets. I quickly passed them up to Fresh.
“Here,” I panted, out of breath. “Put the chicken in these.”
“My nigga,” Fresh said. “You are a genius!”
“What the hell are y’all up to?” the girl driving asked.
“Just a little back-to-school potluck for our dorm,” Fresh said.
“Mmmmm-hmmmmm,” she hummed in disbelief. “Whatever! I’m a Zeta. Don’t forget that. Y’all just be careful. Church’s don’t taste nothing like Popeye’s!”
She had a point. But hopefully, after a few chugs of Hennessy, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. She dropped us off on the main drag, near Lighthouse, one block away from the Kappa house. We jogged over from there. We reached the front door with two minutes to spare—liquor and chicken in hand. Dex took his sweet time coming to the door, intentionally I’m sure.
“It’s about time,” he said, grabbing the bags from us. After digging through them to make sure all of his demands were met, he slammed the door in our face. He showed absolutely no gratitude whatsoever for all of our effort and hard work. No emotion at all. I shrugged it off, assuming maybe that was a good thing. At least we’d made it on time. As for my biology study session with Timothy, well, that was another story.
Not much had changed about Club Woody since I studied for finals there last semester. The majority of students in Woodruff Library were there for all the wrong reasons, hence the befitting moniker “Club Woody.” You could always tell who was really there to study and who was frontin’. The girls with their faces made up, dressed like they were going straight to the club after their study groups, and fellas doused in cologne, absent of textbooks or writing utensils, were usually on the latter end of the spectrum. Those there to socialize usually congregated in the front, while students actually attempting to study took refuge in the back, where there were quiet, cubicle-like desks. On this rare occasion, I was actually there to get some work done. And even if I’d wanted to socialize a bit, that chicken and liquor run killed any time I may have had to iron an outfit suitable for mingling in the front. As usual, th
ere were plenty of vacant seats in the back away from the action. Miraculously, I’d managed to make it to my study session with a few minutes to spare before our public policy meeting. Timothy and Dub-B were already going over the difference between protons and neutrons when I pulled up a seat.
“Yo, son,” Dub-B said. “You aight, yo? Why you walking all funny like that?”
My legs were still sore from sitting in that damn imaginary chair, but I didn’t even realize my limp was still visible until Dub-B mentioned it.
“Bumped my knee on a table walking in,” I said.
“Well, well, well,” Timothy said, looking at his watch. “Look who finally decided to show up.”
“My bad, blood,” I said. “I had overslept. My alarm was trippin’.”
“If you say so,” Timothy said. “Just remember, I don’t need this study session. I can really be using this time to study for one of my more difficult courses. But since you asked for help, I’m here. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. So please, just try to be on time from now on.”
Even though I didn’t appreciate Timothy talking to me like a parental figure, I could understand where he was coming from. I was in no position to issue a rebuttal. With my first biology exam swiftly approaching, Lord knows I needed help. And when it came to biology, Timothy was the man. I thought the guy loved science. But that was an understatement. He knew it like the back of his hand. But after studying with him briefly, it was clear that his relationship with his newfound love thing was more serious than I thought. They were sending each other text messages the entire time.
“You must really like that girl,” I said. “If y’all gonna be texting like that, you might as well just call her.”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “She’s definitely growing on me. To be honest with you, I think I may be falling in love for the first time.”
“Aaaawwww!” Dub-B and I sounded off simultaneously.
“Isn’t that cute?” Dub-B taunted. “Timmy’s got a girlfriend!”
“Not quite,” Timothy said, blushing. “I’m working on it, though. Just taking things slow.”
“Speaking of taking things slow, how are things going with that Elmanite you been tryna holla at?” Dub-B asked. “Fresh told me she was tryna act Hollywood with you at first.”
“I just spoke to her on the phone for the first time today,” I said. “She seems hella cool,” I said.
“Well, if she’s as half as good to you as Amy is to me, I say make her your girlfriend,” Timothy said. “U of A is big on quantity, but quality is hard to find around here. I’m glad I found my queen.”
“I’m trippin’ on how this girl got you so sprung,” I said. “You ain’t even smashing.”
“Smashing?” Timothy asked, confused.
“Hold on,” Dub-B said, slamming his biology book shut. “Wait a minute, son. Don’t tell me this girl got you out here talkin’ ’bout you in love and you haven’t even beat yet.”
“Beat what?” Timothy asked.
“Sex!” I said, louder than I’d intended to, causing a few people studying at tables nearby to look over. I continued in a whispered tone. “You haven’t even gotten any yet, have you?”
Timothy looked down, fiddling with his papers, a half grin creeping on his face. He never said yes. But surprisingly, after approximately ten seconds of silence, he never said no.
“You’re still a virgin, right?” I asked.
Still no answer. Timothy’s grin widened. That’s when Dub-B and I erupted.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!” we screamed, pumping our fists. I tried to give Timothy a high five, but he refused to raise his hand. That’s when Dub-B grabbed his elbow and raised it for him. Timothy tried to lower his hand before I could reach it, but I slapped him five anyway.
“No wonder he’s so geeked about shorty!” Dub-B said. “She took his virginity.”
“Damn, T-Mac,” I said, laughing. “What ever happened to abundance over buns, man?”
“Can we change the subject, guys?” Timothy pleaded. “Please.”
After Timothy helped me knock out my first homework assignment, I still had time to spare before our public policy class group was scheduled to meet. Dub-B left to go meet Jasmine outside her class and escort her to the library for our group meeting. I decided to knock out my algebra homework to kill some time. The answers to all of the odd problems were in the back of the book, so naturally I started working those first. I was just about to start working the even ones when I heard two very familiar voices at the desk next to me. Wooden dividers about two feet tall, separating the desks for privacy, shielded me from their view. Based on how liberally she offered up personal information, Kat clearly assumed she was alone with Destiny. I couldn’t help but listen in.
“You are so strong, girl,” Destiny said. “I don’t see how you do it. It seems like every time I turn around I have to check one of these little chickenheads running around here spreading rumors about you. Shoot, I almost got into a fight in the caf earlier defending you. I don’t care what disease you got, ain’t nobody gonna be walking around here disrespecting my girl. And that’s real!”
“You are so crazy, girl,” Kat said. “It’s good to know somebody has my back. It’s like you don’t find out who your true friends are until something like this happens. As far as people spreading rumors and hating on me goes, that kinda comes along with the territory when you’re dating someone like Downtown D. So I guess you can say I’m used to it. I can’t even front, though, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. But what can I do about it now? Everybody knows I’m HIV positive, and that’s how it is. When I first found out I was infected, I thought my life was over. But when I went to sleep that night and woke up the next morning, I realized it wasn’t. That’s when I decided that I’m going to live what life I have left to the fullest. I might as well. You only get one.”
“You never fail to amaze me,” Destiny said, sounding like she was close to tears. “I am so glad you are taking such a positive approach, considering everything you’re going through. It’s like, I’ve heard about AIDS, and seen the commercials with the little African kids on TV and everything, but I’ve never been this close to anyone who has it. And it just amazes me how you take your medicine all the time, yet still manage to get your work done in class, lead our APA chapter meetings and just go on with your life.”
“Yeah, well let me be the first to tell you that taking fifteen tablets a day ain’t easy,” Katrina said.
“Damn!” I said, covering my mouth to muffle my voice.
That’s a hell of a lot of pills, I thought.
“Fifteen per day?” Destiny asked, echoing my sentiment.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Kat said. “I used to be worried how many classes I had left to take. Now, I’m even more concerned with how many T-cells I have left.”
“Doesn’t taking all those pills make you sick to your stomach?” Destiny asked.
“Hell, yeah!” she said. “Girl, I cried the first time I saw how big some of the pills I had to take were. But I really don’t have much of a choice, so I just learned to deal with it. Now, I’m actually starting to get used to it. I have my good days and my bad days. Days where I feel weak and some where I don’t have much of an appetite at all. But I’ve learned to count every day that I wake up as a blessing.”
“You are so positive!” Destiny said. “I swear you should be a spokesperson for BET’s Rap It Up campaign or something. Just talking to you makes me appreciate life more.”
“I wasn’t this strong at first,” Kat said. “I was crying like a little baby for the first couple weeks of Christmas break. Then I started going to church more, getting into the Word, and I found strength in the Lord. It’s too bad I just started really getting into it once I found out I was HIV positive, but I guess better now than never.”
“Definitely,” Destiny said.
“Girl, I’ve just been talking your ear off,” Kat said. “Thanks for listening. You know, ever sinc
e the word got out that I was HIV positive, a lot of people who claimed to be my friends have disappeared.”
“That just lets you know that they were never your true friends to begin with,” Destiny said.
“Exactly! And it also proved who my real friends are. Thanks for being one of them.”
“You know I’m here for you if you need me,” Destiny said.
“Aawww, girl, you’re gonna make me cry before our little meeting,” Kat said. “C’mon, let’s go before we’re late.”
When the two of them stood, I put my head down. I didn’t want them to know I’d been eavesdropping.
Just as I was gathering my things, I felt my phone going off in my pocket. I hoped it wasn’t Dex calling to let me know he’d snuffed out our little slick move with the chicken swap. I took in a sigh of relief when I saw that it was my mom. We weren’t allowed to talk on our cell phones in the library, but I answered anyway, speaking in a whisper.
“Hello,” I said.
“So I’ve just finished the first draft,” my mom said with excitement.
“First draft of what?” I asked.
“The speech,” she said.
“What speech?”
“The one Katrina is going to have to give when she runs for student body president,” she said. “You really don’t know a thing about elections, do you?”
“C’mon now, Mom,” I said. “You already know this ain’t my thing.”
“Well, it’s mine!” she said. “I’m gonna go ahead and e-mail you what I’ve got.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, trying to ease off the phone with her.
“Tell her she can feel free to doctor it up however she wants.”
“Okay, Mom,” I said. “I’ll do that.”
“I’m gonna go ahead and include some other key points I think she may want to touch on, too,” my mom said. “That way, if she—”
“Mom!” I said, cutting her off. “Okay! Thank you. I can’t really talk right now because I’m in the library. I’ll call you later.”
Next Semester Page 12