With Friends Like These

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With Friends Like These Page 5

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley


  “Jasmine, as in your little ghetto friend Jasmine?”

  “Jasmine is not ghetto,” I protested.

  “Jasmine who lives in public housing Jasmine?”

  “Mama, please,” I said. She made me so sick. “Jaquan is cool, and I like him a lot.”

  My mother got up and started pacing the floor. “Lexi, sweetheart, you know I think Jasmine is a sweet girl, and I’m sure her brother is a really nice guy. But you’re meant to be with a certain type of boy.”

  I looked at my mother, wondering how in the world she got to be such a snob.

  “What type, Mom? Someone with money?”

  My mother didn’t catch my sarcasm. “That’s always good.” She exhaled deeply. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you after the night I had with your father. I do not want you to see that boy. And that’s final. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand!”

  “All those boys at the country club, or even at your school, and you want to go hook up with some thug from across town.” My mother shook her head. “Sometimes I just don’t understand you, Lexi. I don’t want you to see that boy, and it’s not open for discussion.” She slapped her legs. “Now, as I was saying earlier, let’s do a day at the spa.”

  My mother didn’t give me time to respond before she jumped up and began punching numbers into the phone.

  “Yes, this is Veronique Lansing. I want an appointment for my daughter and myself for later this afternoon.” She flashed me a smile. I rolled my eyes.

  She quickly made an appointment, then hung up the phone. “We’re going to have so much fun. Now you run and get dressed so that we can start on our special day.”

  “I am dressed,” I snapped. I was praying this wasn’t one of those times when she’d want us to either dress alike or wear the same colors. I hated when my parents fought, not just because it was embarrassing, loud, and worked my nerves, but after the infamous fights, my mom felt like she had go out for the Mother of the Year awards. And that usually left me stuck in the middle of the makeup war, too.

  See, Dad picks up on what she’s doing, then next thing you know I’m off to the golf course or some other place I don’t wanna go. When my parents fight, I’m the one who really suffers.

  Mom’s eyes roamed up and down my fringed-edged lowrider jeans and my “I Like Cute Boys” tank top. She turned up her nose.

  “This is an exclusive spa, darling. Why don’t you wear that sweater twin set and that black skirt I like,” she said, prancing over to her massive walk-in closet.

  “But I’m comfortable,” I said.

  “Yes, I know. But you can’t step into this place looking like we don’t belong. Now run and get ready, dear.” She was deep in the closet before I could say anything else.

  I dragged myself back to my bedroom to change. After I’d changed out of my jeans, I laid across my bed and began absentmindedly flipping through the channels. When I heard a knock on my bedroom door a few minutes later, I thought about not answering. But then I figured she’d barge her way in if I didn’t, so I got up, opened the door, and tried not to let my frustration show.

  Mom’s eyes got big and her mouth fell open as she looked at me. She started shaking her head and stormed right over to my closet.

  “I did not tell you to change out of those horrid jeans just so you could put on some warm-ups,” she snapped.

  I pouted, plopped down on the bed, and crossed my arms across my chest.

  It didn’t take long for Mom to come walking out of the closet clutching the sweater twin set and skirt she first told me to put on.

  “The car is waiting, so you need to hurry and change. We have a full day ahead,” she said before turning and rushing toward my bedroom door.

  “Does it matter that I don’t want to go?” I sat up, my arms still folded.

  She spun around and looked at me with beady eyes. “I’m not in the mood today, Lexi. Now get dressed and meet me downstairs. I’ll be waiting in the car.”

  I sighed in frustration. Just once, I wish someone would care what I want. Thank God for Jaquan. He was the only bright spot in my life. And I didn’t care what my mother said, we were going to be together forever.

  10

  Camille

  I watched as Jasmine stared at the big red letter scratched across the top of her exam. I leaned over to her desk and looked at it.

  “F?” I asked.

  She held the test toward me and whispered. “A big F. How in the world did I get an F?”

  I couldn’t help but smile when she said that. “Ummm, let’s see. Didn’t you say you started studying the morning of the test? You know Mrs. Reed is hard, and you can’t do any last-minute studying for her class.”

  Jasmine let out a groan. “Shut up. What did you get?”

  I held up my paper. “A-minus.” I was just about to gloat some more, but the way she slumped back in her seat made me change my mind. I know Jasmine had been bummed out ever since she and Donovan broke up last week. But I tried to tell her. I don’t know how she thought she was gon’ hang on to that boy when he went off to college, especially since she still hadn’t had sex with him. I mean, he was playing basketball at the University of Texas at Austin, and he was fine as all get-out. I just knew those college girls would be all over him. Jasmine didn’t stand a chance.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, just as the bell rang.

  Jasmine gathered her books. “I’m straight.”

  We both stood up and started heading toward the door. I knew I probably shouldn’t go there, but I was curious, so I asked, “You heard from Donovan?”

  She stopped right outside the classroom door. Her eyes got sad at the mention of his name. “Nah, I tried to call him yesterday but his roommate was talking about he wasn’t there. I know he was lying. I heard some girls giggling in the background.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jasmine shrugged. “Don’t be. I’ll be fine. Forget Donovan.”

  I was just about to say something else when Tameka came bouncing toward us. “What’s up?”

  “What’s up with you?” I said. Tameka actually had opened up a little at our last meeting. We’d even laughed a few times. Now she was bouncing around, all happy. Maybe she’d gotten out of the funk she’d been in the first few weeks she joined the Good Girlz.

  “Hey,” Jasmine echoed.

  “Y’all ready for the audition?” Tameka asked.

  “You know I am,” Camille said.

  “Shoot, I forgot all about the audition,” Jasmine responded.

  “How you gon’ forget?” Tameka asked.

  “I had a lot on my mind.”

  “Well, I have the tape from our practice run right here,” Tameka said as she waved a VHS tape back and forth. She’d made the tape of us practicing at our meeting Tuesday night, saying it would help us all to be able to critique ourselves. She’d called her cousin for tips on how we could interview each other and then videotaped us as we practiced.

  “I would’ve waited and brought it to the meeting Thursday, but you know we gotta meet the girls we’re supposed to be mentoring,” Tameka continued. “Besides, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait. I already talked with Mr. White in the TV department. He said we can use the studio to review the tape.”

  “Cool,” I said. Since our school was a magnet school for communications, we had a state-of-the-art television studio where students could get hands-on experience in the television and radio business. “When can we watch it?” I asked. I was really geeked about the auditions. Not just for the money, but because hosting the show would have been so much fun. So I wanted to make sure I gave it my all, and I was anxious to see how the practice run went.

  “After school. Just meet me in the TV studios,” Tameka said as she raced down the hall to class. “I have Mrs. Reed now, so I can’t be late. I’ll see you all after school.”

  We waved to Tameka. “Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all,” I mumbled to Jasmine as we headed
to our next classes.

  Jasmine shot me a “yeah, right” look before heading to her class.

  I met Alexis after school outside the gate, then walked her back to the studios. I had sent her a text message to meet us after school. She had a free sixth period, so she was waiting by the time our dismissal bell rang.

  When we walked into the studio, Jasmine, Angel, and Tameka were already there.

  “Hey, everybody,” Alexis said as she walked in.

  Everybody waved as Tameka popped the tape in. “I watched the tape last night, so I have a few critiques myself,” she said.

  We all looked at Tameka like, Who died and appointed her audition queen?

  First up on the tape was me interviewing Angel. I smiled as I watched myself give a brief introduction, then welcome Angel to the show. Part of our audition included interviewing another person about a hot teen topic. So that’s what we were practicing when we taped the fake interviews. Angel looked so cute and innocent as she talked about cheating on tests.

  “Okay.” Tameka stood up, paused the tape, then turned to me. “Camille, you see how you’re leaning in. You need to be aware of that, because it’s distracting. And Angel, you’re not making eye contact.”

  Me and Angel looked at her like she was crazy, but we didn’t say anything.

  Tameka pushed play again, and we watched a few more minutes of the tape before she stopped it again. “Okay, Camille, you’re going to have to have a little more personality.”

  Jasmine spoke up before I could respond. “Excuse me,” she said, waving her hand. “Since when did you become the talk show expert? I’m just wondering, because I must’ve missed the memo or something.”

  Tameka folded her arms and cut her eyes. “I’m trying to help you all out. I’m the only one here who has some television training.”

  “You sat in the audience at one taping of the Nickelodeon awards. That hardly qualifies as training,” Alexis said. Tameka had let it be known about her Nickelodeon experience. The way she boasted, you would have thought she starred with Nick Cannon in a Nick Movie of the Week.

  “It’s more than you’ve done,” Tameka said defensively. “Besides, my cousin—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I cut her off. “We know, your cousin is a reporter for CNN.”

  “Whatever.” Tameka threw her arms up. “Y’all can look crazy all you want, then. But don’t be mad when I win this competition hands-down.”

  “I thought we agreed that you guys wouldn’t see this as a competition,” Angel said.

  “Well, I wasn’t, which is why I was trying to go through the tape with y’all,” Tameka said. “I mean, if you want to know the truth, I’m the only one who even stands a chance.”

  Okay, this girl was smoking something for real. I stood up because I saw Jasmine getting worked up.

  “Look, Tameka,” I said. “I’m sure you think you have what it takes to win this thing. Heck, we all do. But one thing we agreed on was that we would keep this a friendly competition.”

  Tameka rolled her eyes and leaned back in to the TV. She pushed eject on the tape. “That’s what I was trying to do.” She pulled the tape out. “But obviously you all don’t appreciate that.”

  “Tameka, chill out,” Alexis said. “Nobody’s upset with you trying to help. I think it’s just the way you came across.”

  Tameka stuffed the tape in her backpack, then slung the backpack over her shoulder. “Well, you know what? You don’t have to worry about how I come across anymore, because I’m out.” She turned and stomped out the door.

  We all sighed in frustration. So much for thinking she’d changed.

  11

  Camille

  Walter and I sat in the parking lot of the Channel 2 studios. I was nervous as all get-out, but he was trying his best to calm me down. He was dropping me off for the on-air test with the producers.

  “I told you, you got this,” he said, stroking my hair.

  “I’m just worried I’m going to freeze up,” I replied.

  “Please. This is what you want to do when you grow up, so you’ll do fine.”

  His calmness and confidence eased my fears. I smiled.

  “Now, you need to get going.” He pointed to the digital clock on his dashboard. “To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late.”

  “Okay, now you sound like Mrs. Reed, my history teacher.” I laughed as I gathered up my purse and backpack. Today was the day the producers saw what we looked like on camera and decided if we’d even take this audition any further.

  “You know I wish I could go inside with you,” he said.

  “Yeah, right. I’m nervous enough. I would sho’ mess up if you were in there with me.”

  He grinned. “Call me as soon as it’s over.”

  I gave him a quick kiss and made my way inside.

  I was in awe at the huge lobby. All of the anchors’ pictures were lined up against the wall. I recognized two of my favorites, Melinda Spaulding and Damali Keith. I remember I used to imitate them, dreaming of the day I could take their places. And to think, I could actually be working in the same building as them.

  I checked in with the receptionist, who led me down a long hallway into the TV studio, which was freezing cold.

  Alexis, Jasmine, Tameka, and Angel were already inside, seated in chairs next to a huge news desk. I immediately recognized this as the place they taped the news every day.

  I spoke to everyone. They all looked just as nervous as me. Even Angel looked nervous, and she wasn’t even auditioning.

  “You ready?” Alexis whispered as I sat down.

  I shook my head from side to side. She laughed. “Me neither.”

  We didn’t have time to talk, as Shereen and five other people came in.

  “Hello, ladies,” Shereen said as she walked to the front of the room. “You ready to do this?”

  We all smiled and nodded our heads.

  She clapped her hands together. “Well, good. This is Bernadette, LaShauna, LaQuanta, and Dana,” she said, pointing to four of the people on her right side. “They are the producers for the show, and they’ll be judging your on-air test. This”—she pointed to the fifth person—“is our intern, Danielle. She will be helping us out today.” Shereen turned to a stage, which was sitting under some huge lights. “Now, this is our set. We have actually decided to combine your interview with the on-air test. So you’ll be answering your questions on camera.” She looked at us and smiled. “Let’s get started.” She glanced at her clipboard. “Camille, you’re first. Followed by Jasmine, then Alexis, then Tameka.”

  Shereen took her seat behind a big TV screen sitting on a table. Three of the other producers sat at a big table. The producer named Bernadette sat in one of the chairs on the set.

  “Sit down. I don’t bite,” Bernadette said with a laugh.

  Dang. I wanted to kick myself. I didn’t want to appear nervous. I tried to smile as I walked over and sat down next to her.

  Bernadette didn’t give me time to relax; she just jumped right into the interview.

  “So tell me, Camille, why do you think you have what it takes to be our new host?” she said.

  Why did I have to be first? “Well, ummm, I’m what you guys are looking for.” I went on to talk about all the qualities I would bring to the job. The interview lasted about ten minutes. I actually got better as it went on. The first few minutes were rough, though, with me stumbling all over the place. But after that, I think I did all right.

  After I was done, Bernadette thanked me and quickly shuffled Jasmine up. I couldn’t judge what she thought by the look on her face. Shoot, all the producers had these blank looks. That was really frustrating.

  Jasmine’s interview was okay. Honestly, she’s my girl and all, but she looked uncomfortable sitting up on the stage. She kept gaping her legs open—I guess it was a hard habit to break from her tomboy days.

  Alexis did pretty well. She seemed a lot more relaxed than both of us.

 
By the time they got to Tameka, I wondered whether the producers were getting tired, because I saw Dana yawn and stretch.

  Bernadette pretty much went through the same spiel with Tameka. I watched in awe as Tameka worked her jelly. She made jokes, looked at the camera, and even had Bernadette laughing.

  “Bernadette, I know we’re just about out of time,” Tameka said, sounding all natural, “but I just have to say, if you’re looking for a teen who’s in touch with the happenings in the community, who has what it takes to make Teen Talks one of the more talked-about shows in town, that would be me.” She reached out and shook Bernadette’s hand. “And I’d be honored to be your host.”

  Why hadn’t I thought to make a last-minute pitch for the job?

  “Thank you, Tameka,” Bernadette said, obviously pleasantly surprised.

  “No, thank you, Bernadette.” Tameka turned toward the camera and flashed a smile. “And thank you, Dana, LaQuanta, LaShauna, and Shereen, for giving me this opportunity.”

  How the heck did she remember everyone’s names?

  “This is your girl Tameka for Teen Talks. Until next week, see you out and about, because we’re all over town, gathering up the latest, hippest happenings to bring your way! Peace.” She flashed two fingers and smiled.

  I looked at Alexis, Jasmine, and Angel. Like me, their mouths were hanging open. Even the dang producers were smiling. I think all of us were shocked at how well Tameka had done.

  “Can you believe that?” Jasmine whispered.

  Too stunned to talk, I watched as Tameka walked off the stage with an air of confidence I’d never seen before. She came and took her seat back next to us and looked at us as if to say, “Take that.”

  “Well,” Shereen said as she made her way to the front. “You ladies did great. I definitely think we’ve found our host among you all.”

  Tameka stuck her chest out as she raised her hand. “Miss Young, will you all let us know how we did?”

  Shereen looked at the other producers and chuckled. “I guess you want to know if you were as good as you think you were?”

 

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