Magic Touch

by Treasure Hernandez

  “Heard that before,” Simmy murmured.

  Jayla looked her in the eyes and raised her right hand. “I promise on my mother’s grave, I will come back more. I’m going to make sure we have more weekends like this.”

  “Swear?”

  “Swear,” Jayla said, putting her right hand over her heart.

  The girls showered, got dressed, and grabbed a quick breakfast before heading back to Mummy Pat’s. Simmy felt her heart racing as they got closer and closer to the house. She felt as if she were being brought back to jail after the little taste of freedom she’d gotten over the last few days. The way they’d gone shopping this weekend took her back to how it used to be before she had to move back to Brooklyn. She missed her big house on Long Island. She missed her bedroom, her clothes, shoes, accessories. Most of all she missed her parents.

  “Simmy!” Jayla snapped her fingers in front of Simmy to get her attention.

  “Huh?”

  “Damn, bitch, you zoned out on me.” Jayla chuckled.

  “I’m sorry, Jayla. I just hate having to go back there. I love Mummy Pat, but everyone else in that house is a bunch of jerks. I usually just stay locked up in my room to avoid them.” They pulled up to the house just as she said that. Simmy placed her hands in her lap and looked down at them.

  “Simmy.” Jayla reached over and put her hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “I know what it’s like in there. And I hated it just as much as you do. But, I promise you, it’s gonna be all right. And I’ma be here for you, no matter what.”

  Simmy looked up and locked eyes with Jayla. She could see that Jayla was being genuine. She mustered up a smile. “Thanks, Jayla.”

  “Of course, little cousin. I gotchu.” She winked. “Now let me help you get your bags out the trunk. You’re gonna be the flyest bitch in school!” The two girls shared a laugh. They grabbed the bags and were headed inside when Jayla’s phone rang.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be right there.” Jayla dropped the bags and reached for her phone in the car.

  “Okay,” Simmy yelled back as she put the bags down to open the front door.

  “My, my, my, look who decided to show up,” was the first thing she heard as soon as Simmy took a step inside.

  Great, now I have to deal with her crap. Here we go. “Hi, Auntie Sheryl.” Simmy did her best to sound nonchalant.

  “Oh, don’t you ‘hi’ me, little girl,” Sheryl snapped. “You up and left without telling anybody where you were going or when you were coming back. Where have you been? And where the hell did all those bags come from?” Sheryl questioned as she pointed toward Simmy’s full hands.

  “I was out with Jay—”

  “She was out with me,” Jayla interrupted with an attitude as she entered the living room and stood right in front of her aunt.

  “Oh, shit. It’s even worse than I thought. Simmy, you have no business hanging out with no-good people like her,” Sheryl said as she eyed Jayla up and down.

  “Oh, please. You right about me not being no good. I’m great!” Jayla snapped. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have half the shit I have and don’t nobody like you. You wish you were doing as good as I was.”

  “Little girl, you’re not gonna talk to me like that in my own motherfucking house!” Sheryl took a step toward Jayla.

  “First of all, this ain’t your house. This is your mother’s house, and you’re just living in it. Second of all, you must be crazy if you think I’m gonna let you take a jab at me and I ain’t gonna say nothing to you. You may be my aunt but let’s not forget the only thing you ever did for me was treat me like shit the whole time I lived here. I couldn’t say or do nothing back then, but I’m a grown woman now so if you wanna act all big and bad and talk shit then go ahead, but don’t think I’ll hesitate to put my pretty, manicured hands on you.”

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Simmy was relieved to see Mummy Pat walk into the room. One more minute and she was afraid she was going to end up caught in a fight between the two women bickering.

  “Hi, Mummy Pat,” Jayla said as she walked toward her grandmother and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hey, baby. How you doing, child?”

  “I’m great, Mummy. I was just dropping Simmy off. I took her shopping for some clothes for school.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice of you, Jayla. Thank you.”

  “No need for thanking, Mummy. We’re family and family looks out for each other.” As she said this, she glanced at Sheryl, who just stood there without saying a word. “Mummy, I can’t stay because I need to get to work. I’ll come by another day.” Jayla hugged her grandmother.

  “Simmy, I’ll see you soon.” She winked at her cousin and left without even bothering to look at her aunt, Sheryl.

  “Well, I’m going to head to my room and put my new clothes away.” Simmy excused herself before giving Sheryl a chance to say anything to her.

  * * *

  Simmy couldn’t wait for the first day of school. She’d laid out several of her new items the night before, pondering which high-end outfit she would rock. She’d narrowed it down to a silver and pink Gucci bomber jacket, a pair of purposely faded black Balmain jeans, and Gucci sneakers, or a close-fitting Balmain dress and a pair of Fendi booties.

  When the sun crept through her window and her annoying cell phone alarm blared, Simmy popped out of the bed like a jack-in-the-box. She picked up the picture of her parents and spoke to it. “It’s going to be a good day.”

  * * *

  As Simmy passed through the metal detector at Clara Barton High School, she could already see all eyes on her. Her hair was freshly braided in thick, feed-in braids all going back with her edges carefully slicked into tiny waves. She donned a pair of sparkly, rhinestone-accented Gucci sunglasses and carried the black classic Chanel bag that Jayla had loaned her. She definitely turned heads.

  Simmy heard the hushed murmurs passing down the hallway as she walked through in her black Balmain jeans and white, red, and green Gucci sneakers. She smiled, feeling as confident as a runway model.

  Simmy rounded the hallway corner heading to her homeroom when she heard the rapid tap of feet behind her.

  “Simone! Hold up.”

  Simmy slowed down, but she didn’t stop and turn around. The person caught up to her.

  “What’s up?” Kyan huffed. “I was trying to get your attention when you first walked in. But, you wasn’t trying to hear it. What’s up?”

  “Ain’t nothing,” Simmy replied, purposely adding a slight attitude to her tone. Jayla had told her if she wanted a dude to really be interested in her, she’d have to act disinterested in him. “Men like a challenge. If you’re too easy, you’re boring, and they hate boring girls.” Simmy replayed Jayla’s words in her mind.

  “Can I walk you to class?” Kyan asked.

  “Looks like you’re already doing that,” Simmy said, trying her best to keep up the disinterested act when really her organs were jumping inside with excitement.

  Simmy noticed all of the usual popular girls watching her as she glided through the hallways riding on her new cloud of confidence.

  “All eyes on you,” Kyan remarked, noticing as well.

  “Maybe the eyes are on you. Everybody loves you,” Simmy came right back with.

  “A’ight, you got that one.” He laughed.

  “This is my class.” Simmy stopped at the door.

  “Can I stay in touch with you though?” Kyan asked.

  Simmy wanted to scream, “Of course you can! I’ve been waiting for this day for years!” She wanted to throw the Chanel bag down and do a little dance. But, she kept her cool.

  “If I give you my number, your little posse from the other day won’t be playing on my phone, will they?” Simmy asked facetiously, making reference to the mean girls who had surrounded her the day she had bumped into him.

  “Nah. You’ll never have to worry about nothing like that again. I just want to get to kno
w you better. I’ve been wanting to get to know you for a minute.”

  Simone mentally thanked Jayla again for the phone she had just bought her. If this had been two weeks ago, she would’ve felt really dumb having to explain to Kyan that she didn’t have a cell phone.

  “A’ight, put it in your phone.” Simone gave him her number, and she headed into her classroom.

  Simmy found it impossible to concentrate on anything the teacher was saying. She tapped her feet impatiently, stared at her pretty pink nail polish with the rhinestone embellishments, and secretly checked her cell ten times.

  All of her classes turned out the same. She couldn’t help but to keep checking her phone. She was excited to get a text or a call from him. She daydreamed and replayed the scene with Kyan over and over in her mind. She had actually given Kyan Barkley her number! The most popular dude in their school and in her neighborhood had her phone number.

  Simmy smiled wickedly thinking about all of the jealous girls watching, looking like they wanted to rip her head off, as she had punched her number into Kyan’s iPhone. Simmy felt extra special now. It was the first time in her entire four years of high school that she felt she was getting some clout. Jayla was right; all it took was a little sprucing up: fresh hairdo, banging nail job, hot name-brand clothes, and a lot of attitude to send Simmy to the it-girl side of life.

  When the last bell rang, Simmy raced for the exit doors. She couldn’t wait to be able to use her cell phone to see if Kyan had called or texted her yet. She exited the school and heard her name being called and the blare of a car horn. Simmy stopped and looked around with her eyebrows furrowed.

  “Over here!”

  Simmy’s eyes lit up. “Damn. This girl stay getting it,” Simmy whispered, her mouth hanging open.

  “C’mon, little cousin.” Jayla waved her over. “Stop looking crazy and bring yo’ ass over here,” Jayla joked.

  Simmy smiled so wide she was sure every one of her teeth, even the back ones, could be seen. She could feel the heat of everybody watching her. Simmy felt like sticking her tongue out and screaming, “Suckas!”

  As the other lame kids made their way to the train stations or bus stops, Simmy was rushing over to a shiny black Audi A8 with low-profile tires and gleaming silver rims.

  “Jay, wha . . . where’d you get this car?” Simmy gawked.

  “Why you ask so many questions? I promised I would be back and what better way to come than in luxury?” Jayla replied, leaning on the car. “Now stop acting like you work for the feds with all of these damn questions, and get yo’ ass in and let’s ride.”

  Simmy felt like her body melted against the butter-soft leather seats in the Audi. “You are so fly, Jayla,” Simmy said, running her hand along the door. She looked over in pure adoration at Jayla’s thick gold Cartier bracelets and her diamond-encrusted Rolex. “I don’t know how you can afford it all. You look like a rich lady.”

  Jayla laughed. “You’re too cute, Simmy.”

  “For real. If I could only be half as fly as you, I would never worry about girls frontin’ on me, ever.”

  “Don’t worry, little cuz. Stick with me. You’ll be learning the ropes and being just as fly or flier than me in no time. Matter of fact, lesson one starts today. You ready?”

  “Okay,” Simmy quickly agreed before she even knew what she was agreeing to. She didn’t care, either. At that point, she would’ve followed Jayla into the fiery pits of hell if she’d asked.

  “You’re older now, so I think it’s time. I feel like I can trust you, too. You always been real loyal,” Jayla said.

  Simmy shook her head vigorously. She wanted Jayla to trust her. She just wanted to be down.

  “We both know growing up in Bed-Stuy, in our hood, appearance is everything. Chicks and dudes are more interested in what you wearing than what you saying, feel me? Everything you wear, down to the socks, represents you. I don’t even go to the store looking half ass. That’s the one thing I want you to learn. Just like the celebrities do: never leave home looking less than fabulous, Simmy.”

  Simmy nodded. She was hanging on her cousin’s every word, but she could still read the highway signs. The last one had said CONNECTICUT. Simmy didn’t dare ask any questions, though. She wanted to be anywhere Jayla was going.

  “So today I’m giving you your first taste of how you get it out here,” Jayla said. “The way I get it ain’t always legit legal but, as you can see, it provides well.”

  Simmy turned and looked at the side of Jayla’s face. “How do you get it?”

  “Boosting, baby girl. Boosting.”

  Simmy laughed out loud like Jayla had said the funniest joke ever. “Please. Stop playing, Jay. I know plenty of boosters in the hood and ain’t none of them living like you. You have to be doing something else. It sure ain’t just boosting,” Simmy said, doubt creasing her face.

  “Dead ass. I’m telling you, Simmy. That’s what I do. Like everything else, there are levels to this shit. I just happen to be on a level most of them hood boogers can’t even begin to imagine being on,” Jayla declared.

  “How you get on the next level, then?” Simmy asked, her eyebrows raised into arches on her face.

  “Let’s just say, I had a good teacher. If you want to learn, I can teach you. But I gotta be able to trust you,” Jayla said.

  “You can trust me,” Simmy said, raising her right hand as if she were taking an oath.

  “Girl, you can stay fresh and always keep cash in your pockets. Ain’t no tricks to this; you just gotta be willing to listen and learn. It’s really up to you how far you go can go with it. You can choose to be like me, or you can choose to keep struggling,” Jayla said, quickly turning her head to look at Simmy before turning her attention back to the road.

  Simmy was staring at her older cousin, contemplating what she’d just said. The way all of those mean girls had stared at her in awe earlier and the way Kyan had practically run her down in the hallways helped to quickly make up Simmy’s mind. There was no other choice and nothing much to think about. She wanted to be just like Jayla. She always had.

  “I choose to be like you,” Simmy said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to learn.”

  “Uh-uh. You can’t be sounding all quiet and unsure and shit. You have to convince me you’re ready,” Jayla scolded her.

  “I choose to be like you. I’m ready to stop struggling and make some money,” Simmy said much louder this time. “I want you to teach me how.”

  “Good. So you all in?”

  “I’m all in,” Simmy said, her heart pounding so hard she wanted to cough.

  Jayla smiled. “A’ight, then, baby cousin. Welcome to the life.”

  Chapter 3

  Becoming a Pro

  “Put these on and wrap your head with this like I’m about show you,” Jayla instructed, passing Simmy a pair of dark oversized oyster-shell Chanel shades, and a silky white scarf with the gold Cs and the iconic Chanel chain strap printed on it.

  Simmy slid the shades on, then turned and watched her older cousin carefully so she could learn how to wrap the scarf correctly. When Jayla was done, she looked like Jackie O with the way she had her scarf draped around her head and her round-lens Jackie O–style shades on. Jayla put on a coat of deep red lipstick and dabbed her lips to make it look like she’d been wearing the lipstick all day. Simmy was amused at her cousin’s transformation.

  “Is this, like, a disguise?” Simmy asked, her eyes still wide with amazement at Jayla’s transformation from hood-rich chick to high-society shopper.

  “Not a disguise, but a little trick so that we fit in with the other snobs out here. If we walk up in there looking like we just came out the hood, that’s exactly how they’re going to treat us. We can’t have them following us around and playing us close, or else this would be a wasted trip. Feel me?”

  Simmy nodded and opened her mouth a little. She felt like a little kid watching her idol get ready for a big performance. In her eyes, Jayla
was the smartest person she knew. Simmy decided right then that she wanted to be just as successful as her cousin. She wanted to get her game plan together so she could move out of her grandmother’s and live the good life like Jayla.

  “First things first: here.” Jayla handed Simmy a wad of cash. Simmy took the money, examined it in her hand, and looked back up at Jayla with furrowed brows.

  “Put that in your purse until we make it out of there and I’ll get it back once we get back to the car. This is just in case—I repeat, just in case—any of those store clerk bitches try to front on you. You can pull this out and make them feel like shit for hawking you. Once they see you really do have money, they’ll leave you alone and run away, too scared they might get pulled up for harassing a legit, paying customer. I’ve had to set more than a few bitches straight in my time doing this,” Jayla explained.

  Simmy took the thick, rubber-banded roll of cash and stuffed it into her borrowed Chanel bag. She checked the mirror to make sure she’d gotten her look right, just like Jayla had showed her. Simmy smiled. She looked classy, just like her mother used to look whenever they went out to fancy places out on Long Island.

  “I’ll give you a bag from the trunk. It’s already kitted out for what you need to do. Don’t move anything inside. I’ll show you once what to do, and then you’ve got to be smart after that. This shit is all about how smart you are and using your natural instincts to your advantage. Trust me, it is not that hard. Just follow my lead and, like I said before, you’ll become a pro in no time,” Jayla said, grabbing her Louis Vuitton tote from the floor behind Simmy’s seat.

  “Okay,” Simmy said tentatively. She had no idea what Jayla meant by “the bag is kitted out,” but Simmy trusted Jayla wholeheartedly.

  “These are the things we need to get out of this trip.” Jayla dug into her bag and then passed Simmy a folded piece of paper. Simmy unfolded it and read:

  Two pairs of men’s Balenciaga sneakers any size

  Two pairs of any color Giuseppe Zanotti sneakers

  Any color Chanel espadrilles

  Any handbag worth $1,200 or more.