Next Semester

by Cecil R. Cross

  “Oh, okay,” she said. “I didn’t know. You should’ve said something.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Well, you just tell Katrina if she has any questions, give me a call,” my mom said. “And I’ve got a few cool slogan ideas, too.”

  “Mom!” I said.

  “Just call me later,” she said, laughing.

  There were six members of our group—Me, Dub-B, Destiny, Timothy, Fresh and Katrina. Our first meeting was a disaster. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked down at my watch. We’d been in the conference room for nearly an hour and gotten absolutely nowhere. We hadn’t even made it through our first group meeting, and already, I wanted out. Each time the question of who would represent our group on the ballot was raised, the same number of hands went up.

  Zero.

  I damn sure wasn’t running for student body president. My grades were much too low to even consider adding my name to the ballot. Dub-B’s priority was basketball, so he wouldn’t have the time to run for office. Destiny was a pretty sorority chick, but she didn’t have the charisma to take out Howard Harrell. Timothy was too timid. And even Fresh, the most overzealous and ambitious member of our group, had come to the realization that he had a better chance beating LeBron James in a game of one-on-one than defeating the almighty Howard Harrell in the upcoming student government election. Katrina was our only hope. Despite being the talk of the campus, Kat’s credentials were impeccable. She was the only upperclassmen in our group and her transcript was flawless—she was on track to graduate magna cum laude, honors reserved for students in the top five percent of their class. When it came to spearheading fund-raisers and event planning, Kat had the campus on lock. Although she was thrust into the rumor mill for all the wrong reasons, Kat’s leg-up on Howard Harrell was that her name was buzzing in the streets. If the saying “all publicity is good publicity” holds true and there is any truth to the theory that student government elections are just popularity contests, then Kat had a legitimate chance to win off namesake alone. Still, she was reluctant to step up to the plate and accept the challenge.

  “I don’t know, guys,” Kat said, looking down at her notepad and nervously doodling. “Y’all sure you want me to run for president?”

  “Yes!” Destiny said for the third time. “No offense to anyone at this table, but, girl, look around. On the real, none of us stand a chance against Howard Harrell. It just ain’t happenin’.”

  “I think she’s made a very valid point there,” Timothy added.

  “But me?” Katrina said second-guessing herself. “Student Body President? I don’t know. There hasn’t been a female student body president here at U of A for over twenty years!”

  “A woman has never been elected President of the United States, either, but that didn’t stop Hillary Clinton from adding her name to the ballot!” Fresh said.

  “And a black man never won the presidential election, now look at Obama!” Dub-B added.

  “That’s true,” Kat said. “Still, though. I just can’t see it.”

  “Look,” I said, sounding restless, “honestly, I couldn’t care less who wins the damn election. I just need to pass this class. And I ain’t even gonna lie. As far as our group goes, I think you’re our best shot.”

  “Preach,” Fresh said in agreement.

  “So y’all really think I can win?” Katrina asked with a smile.

  “Yes!” Fresh screamed, pounding his fist on the desk. “You can! You’re cute, smart, well spoken, Greek, you know how to dress and everybody on campus knows you. Why not?”

  “But what about me being…” Kat said, looking down and fidgeting with her cuticles. “Well…you know…having HIV and all.”

  “Just look at this as another way for you to spread awareness about safe sex,” Timothy said. “Another avenue for you to share your story with those who need it most—the students. Just be honest with them. In the end, I think that will help you gain their trust.”

  “And most importantly, their votes,” Destiny added.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know a thing about writing speeches or fund-raisers, or any of that stuff,” Kat said.

  “Well, I already told J.D. and Timothy that my pops is a very successful politician back home in New York,” Dub-B said. “And I know he would be down to help us come up with some strategic ways to win the election.”

  “That would be awesome,” Timothy said. “I was actually brainstorming a few ideas on the way over. And I was thinking, maybe we can hit up Magic and solicit some financial support for the campaign. Maybe we can do some kind of event where we give out free tickets to students who get tested for HIV.”

  Everyone at the table looked at Timothy like he’d lost his mind.

  “Magic who?” Dub-B asked with a laugh. “Please don’t tell me you are talking about the NBA legend.”

  “That’s exactly who I’m talking about,” Timothy said with a straight face. “As big of an HIV awareness advocate as he is, he’d probably love to help out.”

  “You know, I’ve heard some pretty crazy stuff come outta your mouth,” I said, laughing. “But this takes the cake! How the hell are we supposed to reach out to a Hall of Famer?”

  “And even if we did,” Fresh said, “with all the businesses he owns, you know he is way too busy to be helping us with this campaign. Honestly, that’s got to be about the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day, fam.”

  “Hey, it was just a suggestion,” Timothy said, slightly dejected.

  “How ’bout making it your last one?” Fresh suggested.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Kat said, sitting up straight. “Actually, some kind of ‘testing for tickets’ day would be really cool. Especially if we could get some big artist to perform or something.”

  “Yeah right,” Fresh said, sarcastically.

  “Okay, so let’s forget about Magic and ‘testing for tickets’ day,” Kat said. “Hypothetically speaking, lets say I put together this awesome campaign. I write a really good speech. And I do all of the things it takes to get elected. Have y’all forgotten about Howard Harrell? That man has won every election he’s run in since he’s been at U of A. What about him?”

  “What about him?” Timothy asked. “In Romans eight and thirty-one, the Bible says, ‘If God is for you then who shall be against you?’ I’ll tell you who. Nobody! That’s who. End of story.”

  I’d never heard Timothy sound so adamant about anything. Hell, I don’t think any of us had. Timothy’s encouraging words were enough to get Kat to see the big picture.

  “You’re right!” Kat said. “All of you are right! Thank you so much for inspiring me to do this. I’m gonna do it. I’m running for student body president!”

  The round of applause started with Jasmine’s two hands. Her praise had a domino effect on each of us. I was last to join in. For some reason, I still had a sour taste in my mouth about the way my relationship with Kat came to an end. Maybe it was the fact that she’d lied to me last semester about her ongoing sexual relationship with Downtown D. Or maybe the fact that my gullibility landed me on death row for a week, until my HIV test results came back. Rumors swirling about the two us still dating may have even had something to do with it. But for whatever reason, I still had a great deal of resentment in my heart toward Kat. I tried not to let it show, and avoided her at all costs. But working so closely together on this group project made that mission virtually impossible.

  “Well, that works for me,” Fresh said, grimacing as he looked down at his BlackBerry. It had been going off the entire meeting. He hastily snatched his notebook from the table, slid it into his backpack and headed for the door.

  “Whoa!” Kat said. “Hold up, for a sec. We need to figure out a time that’s convenient for all of us to meet each week outside of Dr. J’s class. I’m running for student body president, but I can’t do it by myself. I’m really gonna need you guys. So what’s up?”

  “Why don’t we just meet here at the same time every Tuesday?” Timoth
y asked.

  “I’ll be on time for that,” Fresh said as he opened the door and bolted out.

  “That’s cool with me,” Dub-B said. “I should be outta practice at this time every week. I won’t be able to make it on nights when we have home games, but other than that, I’ll be here.”

  “Yeah, so that works for us,” Jasmine confirmed.

  Once I confirmed, everyone headed for the exit. Everyone except Kat. She just sat there, jotting down a few final notes as I tussled with the broken zipper on my backpack. By the time I got it shut and looked up, Kat and I were the only two in the room. Uncomfortable is the best word I could use to describe the feeling in the air—an unspoken tension presided. Not knowing what to say, I just threw my backpack over my shoulder and headed for the door without looking in Kat’s direction. I damn near had one foot out the door when she stopped me.

  “J.D., wait!” she said.

  I had a good mind to act like I hadn’t heard her and keep steppin’, but my feet stopped moving the second I heard her call my name. By the time I turned around, she’d already stood up and was approaching me.

  “Let’s talk,” she said, perching on the edge of the table.

  “All right,” I said, still avoiding eye contact with her. “But I don’t have long. I’ve got some studying to do for my other classes. What’s up?”

  “Studying for other classes, are we?” she asked mockingly. “Well that’s great news! I see somebody is starting to get the hang of things around here.”

  “Gotta keep my grades up,” I said.

  “I know that’s right,” she said, smiling. “Keep those priorities straight.”

  I looked down at my watch, as if I were really in a rush.

  “Well, I’m not gonna keep you long,” she said. “I just wanted to try to patch things up between us. If for no other reason than for the sake of the both of us getting a good grade in this class. I mean, we do have to work together and all, so I figure, we might as well get along. Ya know?”

  “I can dig it,” I said. “I can respect that.”

  “Good!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “I am so happy to hear that. Especially after the last conversation we had before you came back out here.”

  Although I knew Katrina was HIV positive, she still had a glow about her that exuded sexy. Everything from her bubbly personality down to her picture-perfect smile, and the sweet, subtle smell of the Issey Miyake perfume she wore made her desirable. Not to mention her keen sense of fashion and flawless skin. As bad as I wanted to play the hard role, the longer I stood next to her, the more I wanted to share a moment of passion with her again. Not that I would. But she was that fine. Any unsuspecting brotha would jump at the chance to get Kat between the sheets. As I stood there listening to her ramble on, I reminisced about all of the nights the two of us spent together talking on the phone until one of us fell asleep. All of the nights the two of us went at it like the Energizer Bunny and neither of us got any sleep at all.

  “I know you’ve gotta go and all, but there is something I’ve gotta tell you,” she continued.

  Oh, God! Not another one of her confessions, I thought. As I sat there, close enough to Kat’s face to smell the Big Red gum she was chewing, I braced myself for her State of the Union address. That’s when I saw someone eyeing me in my peripheral. I hoped it wasn’t who I thought it was. Less than five seconds later, my worst fear materialized. Sure enough, it was Leslie, walking with three other girls, her eyes fixed on me. With an “I knew it” smirk on her face, she held eye contact with me just long enough to let me know that she’d seen me. Then she shook her head, turned up her nose, slightly rolled her eyes and went back to conversing with her friends as they walked by. While nonchalant, her lack of words said it all. I felt like someone had just sucker punched me in the gut and knocked my wind out. I wanted to run out after her and let her know that it really wasn’t like that with me and Kat, but I figured I’d talk to her when she was alone…if she ever picked up the phone again.

  “It’s really hard for me to put this into words,” Kat said, her voice cracking as she teared up.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before…. In fact, I don’t know exactly how to put it. I guess the best way to say it is just…thank you,” she said, wiping tears from both of her cheeks.

  “Thank me for what?” I asked, still discombobulated by Leslie’s random appearance.

  Of all the moments for her to pop up, I thought.

  “For saving my life,” Kat continued, a continuous stream of tears rolling from her eyes. “I would have been dead if it weren’t for you, J.D. I would have pulled the trigger. I just thank God that he sent you through that door to talk me out of committing suicide. I felt like I had nothing to lose and you convinced me otherwise. I am so sorry for getting emotional. I told myself when I had the chance to talk to you about this, I wouldn’t cry. And look at me, crying like a baby.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder, trying my best to console her as she poured her heart out.

  Truth be told, I felt like shedding a tear myself. I hoped I hadn’t blown my chances with Leslie. But judging by her demeanor, things weren’t looking too good for me.

  “Anyway,” Kat continued, “I just want you to know that I am eternally grateful for what you did for me. I know that things have changed and we aren’t the best of friends or whatever anymore, but if you are ever in need of anything, you can call on me, and I will be there for you. Anything.”

  After my heart-to-heart with Kat, I decided to head back to Marshall Hall to finish up the rest of my homework. As I was walking out of the library, I saw Fresh walking toward me, smoking a Black & Mild cigar.

  “What was Katrina talking about, folk?” he asked.

  “A whole lot of nothin’, blood,” I said. “Hella apologetic and shit. Tryna get back on my good side.”

  “You think she’s sincere?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said. “She’s a good person. She just made a dumb-ass decision. She gotta pay for it her whole life, though. I overheard her telling Destiny how many pills she has to take a day. That HIV ain’t no joke, blood.”

  “Just be thankful you didn’t get that shit,” Fresh said.

  “Thankful ain’t the word.”

  When we finally made it back to Marshall Hall, I let out a big sigh of relief. Somehow, operating only on the forty minutes of sleep I snuck in during biology, I managed to get through my first day of classes, run the errands for the Kappas, knock out my homework assignments and meet with my public policy group. I was off to a good start. Everything was going according to plan, except for the fact that I hadn’t heard from Leslie since our incidental run-in inside the library. No text messages or missed calls from her at all. After kicking off my shoes, I tried to call her to smooth things over, but she didn’t answer. I figured that kind of thing is always better to do in person rather than over a voice mail, so I decided not to leave a message. Instead, I shot her a simple text message that read: Good night, gorgeous. Meanwhile, Timothy lay curled up in his bed next to mine. I was so tired, I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t in it alone. At first, when I heard what sounded like a girl giggle, I thought he was just under the covers talking to his girl on speakerphone, as he usually did for some weird reason. But the second time she did it, I heard some tussling, so I peaked my head up in curiosity. And sure enough, I saw an extra hump in his bed lying next to him. T-Mac was definitely in rare form. Not only was he in bed with a girl, but he was also in bed with a girl after visitation hours. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like a Peeping Tom as I peeked over at his bed from under my covers, interested to see what would happen next. I didn’t see much action, but I heard a few things.

  “Not with your roommate in the room, baby,” she said. “I think I’d better go back to my dorm.”

  A few moments later, I saw her roll out of bed and slip into her jeans.

  “I love you, too, baby,” Timothy said as
he let her out.

  He can’t be serious, I thought. He’d just started dating the girl and he was already using the L word.

  “No, I love you more,” he said just before pecking her on the lips and leaving to walk her out.

  “Oh, Lord,” I mumbled. “What a sucka.”

  It was a few minutes past midnight when I felt myself dozing off. Thank God my first class doesn’t start until 10:00 a.m., I thought as I set my alarm for eight o’clock. As exhausted as I was, I figured eight hours of shut-eye was just what I needed.

  Four hours later, I was awakened by the thud of thunder. It was so loud, it almost sounded like someone was knocking at my door. I rolled over and wiped my eyes. The moment I saw that it was only 4:03 a.m., my head crashed right back on my pillow. That’s when the knocking sound returned, even louder than before. But this time, it was definitely somebody knocking at my door. I rolled out of bed half-asleep and stumbled over to the door. Fresh was standing on the other side, wearing a baggy sweatsuit and a panicked expression on his face.

  “It’s about time you opened the door,” he said in a frantic whisper. “I’ve been knocking for the last five minutes!”

  “Huh?” I asked, still trying to figure out what was going on. “I mean, why? What’s up?”

  “C’mon!” he said. “We gotta go! Hurry up and throw some sweats on. We gotta be at the baseball diamond in five minutes.”

  “Baseball diamond?” I asked. “For what?”

  “What do you think? Just hurry up, joe!”

  “Man, bump that,” I said. “I’m going back to sleep.”

  “What you mean going back to sleep?” Fresh said, stepping inside the room, lowering his tone once he saw Timothy was sleeping. “If you quit now, all that stuff we did the other night would be for nothing. You can’t quit, fam. Just throw on a sweatsuit—one with a hood on it.”

  “A hood?” I asked. “For what?”

  “I don’t know, man!” Fresh said. “I’m just going by what Dex told me. Just hurry up!”