by Coe Booth
I have the worst headache I ever had. I mean, I could feel the pain in and outta my sleep. It’s the kinda pain that you can feel behind your eyes where your whole skull feels like it’s gonna break apart or something. I can hardly even pick my head up from the pillow.
So I lay there, trying to relax so the pain will go away, but I can’t stop my brain from thinking and thinking about everything. I’m thinking about Renée and how she didn’t bother coming to the showcase last night, even when she knew how important it was to me. And, of course, I’m thinking about Nashawn, too. About what almost happened between me and him.
And what did happen.
It’s too much, what’s going on in my head. But if I lay here all day, I’m only gonna drive myself even more crazy, that’s for sure. And I have to do something to get rid of this headache. So I get up and go out to the kitchen, where Nana is sitting having breakfast. The green tea is back.
I sit down at the table and rub my forehead, feeling kinda dizzy.
“You okay?” Nana asks me.
“Headache,” I say. “It’s bad.”
She gets up from her chair. “Let me get you something for that.”
She leaves the kitchen, and I sit there hoping she don’t take too long because I don’t know how long I can take this hammering that’s going on behind my eyes. She comes back fast with a packet of Goody’s Headache Powder. She’s kinda oldfashioned when it comes to medicine, and even though I hate the way the powders taste, they do work faster than regular aspirin. I pour the powder on my tongue, and Nana hands me a glass of water from the tap to wash it down with. “Let me make you some tea,” she says. “It’ll help.”
I sit still, waiting for the powder to work, trying not to think too much. But I have to ask, “Where’s Renée?”
“Oh, she called late last night,” Nana says, putting water in the kettle. “She said she wanted to get off the road, so she stopped off at Gerard’s apartment in Newark. She’s going straight to work from there.”
“Oh,” I say, not really sure what to feel. I mean, Renée already missed my show. There’s nothing more to get upset about now.
“I just hope she gives herself enough time to get to that college this morning,” Nana says to herself, “because she don’t want to be late on her first day.” She puts the kettle back on the stove and turns on the fire.
Then she comes back over to the table to finish eating. And I just sit there trying to relax. To breathe. I’m not sure it’s gonna work, though, because I still can’t stop thinking so much.
Finally, the kettle whistles and Nana gets back up to fix me my green tea. It’s not ’til I’m drinking the nasty stuff that I notice the gym bag on the floor by the radiator.
“Is that yours?” I ask.
She turns to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I joined Curves with Rhonda from the office. We’re going to work out at lunch hour, three days a week.” She laughs. “Well, that’s the plan.”
“That’s good,” I say, and go back to drinking. But I’m definitely adding this to the evidence file. Not that I need any more.
After a while, Nana tells me to go get ready for school. “Because you’re going to feel better once you get moving,” she says, “and you get some fresh air in your lungs. Come on.”
Part of me wants to stay home and not have to face Nashawn and deal with what happened yesterday. I mean, the thought of seeing him again, in the daytime, and remembering everything we did, I did, is almost too much to deal with. But being home isn’t gonna change that. Because all I’ll do is lay in bed all day worrying if he’s telling everybody about what happened, wondering what he’s saying about me.
It takes me a second to stand up, but I do. And I go to the bathroom real slow. I know I have to do this. I can’t hide forever.
I’m still not dressed when I hear the doorbell ring. I’m still sitting on my bed, putting some lotion on my legs since I decided to wear my denim skirt to school. Before Adonna gets to my room, I take some deep breaths and remind myself to act natural. Because there’s no way I can let her find out about me and Nashawn. This is one thing I definitely have to keep from her.
“Hey, girl,” she says, coming into my room and sitting next to me on my bed. “Why are you so late today? You’re never late.”
I don’t look at her. I just say, “Headache.”
“Well, I still need you to hurry up. I have to talk to Tanya before homeroom.”
I stand up and go to my dresser, taking out a plain blue T-shirt and pulling it over my head. It feels like I’m moving in slow motion today.
“Where’s Renée?” Adonna asks with that tone in her voice. “She come to the showcase last night?”
“No,” I say, not looking at her, tucking the T-shirt into my skirt. “She got stuck in traffic coming home from Maryland.”
Adonna sighs real loud.
“Adonna,” I say. “Can you please just stop?”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
I shake my head, which only makes it hurt more.
Nana sticks her head in the door and asks, “Feeling any better?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
“You will. Give the medicine some time to work.” She looks over what I’m wearing and nods a little bit. The skirt isn’t too short and my T-shirt isn’t too tight. So I guess I’m just right. “Okay,” she says. “Hurry up and don’t be late for school.”
I hear her walk back down the hallway. And then the front door opens and closes. And right away I pull the T-shirt off and start looking through my dresser for something better. The cute pink top with the square neckline is perfect. I put it on and see Adonna smiling at me outta the corner of my eye.
Between Nana and her, I can’t help but feel like everybody’s judging me all the time. Like it’s up to them to approve of what I’m wearing or doing. And when it comes to Adonna, I always feel like I’m a project to her, something to fix up or make over. And it’s not just my clothes, either. With her it’s everything. It’s me.
“Here,” Adonna says, reaching into her book bag and pulling out a lip gloss. “Try this. It’s called Betrayal.”
I take the lip gloss from her and put it on. It’s a little darker than the one she’s wearing, but it looks good on me. Makes me look a little older.
Adonna leans forward on the bed. “You know that girl Pam, the one with all the teeth and gums?”
“Hmm,” I say, because I know Adonna’s about to go into one of her stories again.
“Well, let me tell you what happened Saturday when I saw her at the movies in Bay Plaza.”
As Adonna goes on and on, I put on my sandals, then stand up to comb my hair back into one of my I-really-need-a-touch-up-bad ponytails. My mind is all over the place. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it, walk into that school like nothing happened yesterday. And what am I gonna do if I run into Nashawn at our lockers or in the cafeteria? Say hi like we weren’t naked together, like, twelve hours ago? I probably won’t even be able to look at him.
And how am I gonna handle it if everybody knows?
Adonna is still talking. “And when she got up off the floor, girlfriend had popcorn in her hair and butter stains on her ass! It was so funny. You should have been there.”
“I was doing the showcase, remember?” I say, so she won’t know I missed her whole story. “And I never get to go anywhere.”
I’m putting in my earrings when Adonna asks, “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” I say, not looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Why?”
“’Cause you’re acting weird.”
“I have a headache,” I tell her again. “Remember?” I grab my book bag off the floor. And I even remember to take my jacket this time. “Let’s go.”
But before I leave, I take one last look at myself in the mirror. I don’t really look the same anymore, and it’s not just the lip gloss. I kinda look nice. Pretty. And I’m wondering if I always looked th
is way or if I really changed.
EIGHTEEN
My head is still hurting at lunch, but Adonna’s talking so much she don’t even notice that I’m in pain. Or that I’m hardly paying any attention to her. We’re sitting at a table together, just the two of us so far, but she’s not even looking at me. She’s looking—no, staring—across the cafeteria at this girl Sade.
At least it’s not Nashawn this time.
“Look at her,” she says, and the thing about Adonna is that she don’t try to hide it when she’s looking at somebody. Not even a little bit. “That weave just changed her whole personality. She actually thinks her shit don’t stink no more.”
I rub my head, but at the same time I’m kinda scanning the cafeteria, looking for him. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I see him, though. Just thinking about that makes my heart race and my head hurt even more. But I’m still looking.
“You see the way she’s flipping her hair back all the time?” Adonna says. “Wish that thing would fall right off her head, I swear.” She laughs.
Normally, I would laugh with her, at least a little bit, but I can’t do it today.
“Her weave does look nice, though.” Adonna laughs again. “I’m gonna see if I can get my hair done like that for the summer. What d’ya think? Can you see me at the block party with all that fake hair down my back?”
I close my eyes for a second. Why does Adonna have to always sit right in the middle of the cafeteria where she can see everybody and everybody can see her? Especially today, when I’m already feeling all open and exposed. And with Tanya and the guys still in line buying their food, it’s like I don’t have anybody around to kinda block me out a little.
“You okay?” Adonna finally asks me.
I open my eyes. “I don’t know. I just can’t get rid of this headache, that’s all.”
Adonna stares at me for a long while. “That headache named Renée?”
Across the room, some guys at the table where Nashawn always sits, the baseball team guys, bust out laughing. Nashawn isn’t there, but still, I can’t help but think they’re probably laughing about me, about what I did. And, really, it’s too much to sit here and have to deal with this.
I look over at that table for a few seconds, but none of those guys look back at me, thank God. They’re busy throwing packets of salt and pepper and sugar at each other and ducking and acting wild. Finally, this teacher Mr. Gordon goes over to their table and they start to calm down.
“They are so stupid,” Adonna says. “That whole team is made up of one asshole after another. Well, except Nashawn, of course. He shouldn’t even play baseball. He really should play basketball or something else just so he won’t have to hang out with those idiots.”
Every ten seconds, I find myself scanning the whole cafeteria, looking for him. I wanna see him, look in his eyes for just a second. Because if I do, I’ll know if he been talking about me, telling everybody everything that happened.
“Baseball players aren’t even all that hot,” Adonna says. “I mean, like one or two, maybe, but basketball players are way hotter with those shorts, and football players with those tight pants that shows off their ass.”
He walks into the cafeteria and stands there by the stack of trays. His eyes go straight to our table, to me, but I have to look away because what if his eyes tell me he been talking about me? What do I do then?
“Why does he always do that?” Adonna asks. “Look over here and not come over and say anything to me. It’s so annoying.”
I can’t help it, but I glance up again. Just long enough to see him leave.
And all of a sudden, I can’t just sit there anymore. I stand up fast.
“Adonna, um, I’m gonna go see if I can get some aspirin from the nurse’s office.” I grab my book bag and the apple juice I never even opened.
“Okay,” she says. “If you don’t come back, I’ll meet you after school.”
I walk away from her, throw my apple juice in the garbage, and leave the cafeteria. Who am I kidding? The nurse never gives out aspirin, and the stupid headache powder I took this morning didn’t help any, anyway. So I just walk down the hall and up the stairs to my locker.
And he’s there, waiting for me.
Without saying anything, I open my combination lock and grab the key off the top shelf of my locker. Then I slam the locker closed and walk away, back toward the staircase. I can feel his eyes on me.
“Hey, where you going?”
“Theater,” I say.
And again I hear him walking behind me, following me just like yesterday. By the time I get to the first floor, he’s walking with me. We don’t talk, but we’re together. I go straight to the side door of the theater and unlock the door. It’s dark and quiet in there, and the set looks kinda dead now. Looking at it makes me feel even sadder because at least I had the play. But not anymore. It’s just one more thing that’s gone now.
Nashawn follows me inside and pulls the door closed behind him. Then we go backstage to the girls’ dressing room, the only one with a lock. As soon as we’re inside and the door’s closed, Nashawn is pressing me up against the wall and we’re kissing real hard and I can’t even remember to breathe. It’s like yesterday never ended, that we been like this since then. And still I can’t get enough.
“You still need to be an um-virgin?” he asks after a couple of minutes, whispering in my ear.
“No,” I tell him. “I don’t care.” I’m feeling kinda dizzy. The way his hands are on me, reaching under my shirt and unhooking my bra, I can’t even think straight right now.
Then he’s taking off my shirt and my bra and he’s saying over and over, “You are so hot. So beautiful.” And he’s kissing my neck and my shoulders.
What he’s doing with his lips and his hands feels so good, it takes me awhile to force myself back to reality. “No, I can’t,” I say. “My grandmother—”
But that don’t stop him for a second. He kisses my ear and says, “We can do it the other way.”
“I don’t know—” I say, but my voice comes out kinda shaky because I don’t even know what he means. Not that it really matters, because no way am I gonna stop now. “The other way?”
“Here.” His hands go straight for my butt. “Your grandmother won’t know.” Then when I don’t say anything for a few seconds, he says, “C’mon, girl. I want you so bad it’s not even funny. Do I have to beg?”
That gets me to smile, but only a little. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s okay like that?”
“Come here.” Nashawn takes my hand and leads me over to the couch that’s still covered with costumes. He pushes everything to the floor. And then we’re sitting down and he’s taking off the rest of my clothes and then his own, and he’s putting on a condom, and he’s kissing me the whole time.
Pretty soon I’m closing my eyes and letting him do whatever he wants. I try not to think about the pain. I just try to relax like he keeps telling me to do. And I focus on how good his hands feel around me and the way his body is connecting to mine. And I don’t want it to end. Because right now I know I’m all he’s thinking about.
About forty minutes later, right at the beginning of sixth period, I actually make it to the nurse’s office. Only I don’t want an aspirin. I want permission to leave school early.
I sit on the wooden bench and listen as the nurse talks to Kenny on the phone. “She’s going to leave now,” she tells him. “Please call the school when she gets home, just to let us know she arrived safely.”
I can’t believe they’re treating me like I’m still in middle school or something.
The nurse hangs up the phone. “Okay, Kendra. Your father says he’ll be looking out for you. I hope you feel better.”
“Thanks,” I say, keeping my head down.
I walk outta the office, then outta the school.
Besides the headache, I’m not feeling anything.
NINETEEN
When I get back to Bronxwood, I try walking pas
t Kenny’s truck again, fast, so I can get to my building without facing him.
Of course, he sees me. He probably been waiting for me, just like he told the nurse he would. Besides, the man never misses a thing.
“Babe,” he calls out from one of the windows. “Slow down.”
I try to wave at him and keep walking like I did last night, but I know he’s not gonna let me get away that easy.
“Girl, come over here and let me make sure you okay,” he says. “The school got me all worried about you.”
It’s hard to ignore him even though all I wanna do is get in the tub, then go to sleep. I stop walking, take a deep breath, and tell myself I can do this. I can talk to him for a few minutes. He won’t find out anything.
I walk across the street to the back of the truck and step inside. Right away Kenny’s giving me a hug, but I pull away after a few seconds. I just can’t take any more touching today. Any kinda touching.
“I couldn’t believe the school was calling me, telling me you not feeling good and you wanna leave early. What’s the matter?”
I can’t look at him. I have to keep my eyes away from his. “My head,” I whisper. “And my stomach.”
“Oh, I got just what you need.”
Not only does Kenny sell junk food and soda, he sells those little packets of aspirin and cold medicine, too. He grabs a pack of Alka-Seltzer, then a little tiny bottle of Poland Spring from one of the refrigerators. Before I can say anything, he’s opening the packet, breaking up the tablets, and sticking them through the little opening in the bottle. The water bubbles up and almost spills over the top. “Here. Drink fast.”
I don’t even know why, but I take a sip of the foamy water. Probably because I know he’s trying to help. But it tastes so nasty, like salt water, only worse, that I practically gag. “Kenny, I don’t need this. It’s not that kinda stomachache.”
He takes the bottle outta my hand. “Girl problem?”
I nod ’cause I know that’s gonna stop the questions.
“Okay…alright. Okay. Um, you need anything?”