by J. Nichole
“For a week, I want you to seek newsworthy content outside of what’s being fed to you by social media.” She grabs her phone and a newspaper. “For our first week we will be learning how peer perspectives can influence our copy.” She flips open the newspaper and reads a headline aloud, “Tallahassee hotels caught charging black tax.”
We discuss the perspectives of the story and together write a different copy based on the feedback we provide. Then she looks at her phone and reads aloud tweets related to the headline. “As you can tell, a majority of the people I follow disagree with the black tax. How do you think the perspective of my article would be impacted?”
She returns to the whiteboard and begins to write, and then after discussing our next assignment class is dismissed. I linger at my desk until the room is clear, leaving me alone with Dr. King.
She smiles at me and says, “How was your first class?”
“Not too bad, but I’ll confirm that after I receive the grade on my first assignment.” Before leaving out the door I stop and my shoulders slump. “How’s Professor Douglas?”
Her smile disappears and she shakes her head. “He isn’t doing well, Laila. You should consider visiting him.” I look away from her, avoiding eye contact. “Don’t let me pressure you, Laila. It’s your call. I’ll keep you posted on his behalf.” I nod my head then walk out the door.
The Journalism building was once a place of solace for me, but now I leave as soon as my classes end. When I pass the atrium, it’s packed and laughter escapes from the door. I slow my steps to take a peek inside and recognize a few faces.
Evan looks up from his laptop and waves at me. I wave back and before turning to leave he waves me over to him. “Can you come here for a second?”
I hesitate before walking towards him. I hover over him and he points at his computer screen. "I know you have your assignment for Friday's paper," he looks up to me with droopy eyes. "I think we need to start a campaign series that will follow the process up until the elections in a couple of months."
My heart sings, and before responding, I think of all the ways I can get the inside scoop for Monica. Evan interrupts my thoughts, “You don’t like the idea.” His top lip curves up.
I hunch my shoulders and say, “I suppose I can do that.” I have to hide my enthusiasm but my insides are dancing.
He gives me a thumbs-up and continues scrolling on his laptop. “I’ll send you a link to all the student government regulations.”
“Thanks.” Before Evan attempts to outline my article I leave him scouring the net.
My car is surrounded by a couple of cops, and as I get near, one of them stares me down. “Is there a problem?”
The cop points to my car and says, “Is this your car?”
I nod my head and say, “Yes.” My eyebrow rises as I wait for the cop to explain why they are surrounding my car.
“This car was reported stolen.” My mouth drops and I don’t hear anything else he says. I bend my head around him and examine the car. Yes, that's my car. I pull my keys from my purse and click my doors unlocked.
“And I assume it’s not in your name? Just give us your license and registration.”
I pull out my wallet and hand the over-zealous cops my license. “My registration is in the glove compartment.” The cop steps out of my way and I walk toward the car and open the passenger door. As I’m reaching for my registration, my heart starts pounding. Who could have reported my car stolen?
I hand my registration to the cop, and after examining it, he hands it back to me. “Sorry for the confusion. We’ll have to track down the reporter. False claims carry a consequence.” He looks me over as if sending me a warning.
I smile and say, “I hope he or she doesn’t try to pull this stunt again.” Before they walk away I say, “I recently had my tires slashed and I can only imagine the same person probably pulled this prank.”
The cop narrows his eyes and writes in his notepad. "If we do find this person and can get them to the station I'll be sure we ask about your tires." A smile escapes and he clears his throat. "If anything else happens please let us know."
I let the cops clear the area before I climb in the car. I’m already late for the first fundraising event at Sankofa Lounge for Monica’s campaign, but I’m tempted to find Chris and unload my angst with him. If this is truly Courtney doing all these things, then there’s only one person who can get her to stop.
All the seats in Sankofa are filled, and the first entertainer is on stage pouring out her spoken word. I find the girls sitting near the stage. Monica gives me a nervous look when I sit beside her. “Where have you been?” she whispers.
Rolling my eyes, I tell her, “I have to give you details later.”
She looks at me knowingly and turns back to the stage. The next girl takes the stage and begins her monologue about a black pearl lost deep in the ocean. I stop listening when she starts swaying, demonstrating the motion of the waves.
Monica looks at us after her name is called to go on stage. Her poem is supposed to be her introduction. We discreetly want to start the buzz about her before campaign season begins. Nicole and I helped her write the poem, and Jennifer taught her a few tips to help her be at ease while on stage.
She closes her eyes and begins, “I was a little girl playing along the gulf shores of Alabama.” By the time she releases the last word of her prose, I’m in awe. Her eyes are wide open and her shoulders carry the confidence to conquer the world. We stand and give her a round of applause as she joins us back at the table.
“How’d I do?” She looks at us with her shoulders hunched.
“You fucking rocked it!” Nicole blurts out. Jennifer and I nod feverishly in agreement.
The manager of Sankofa finds us at the end of the event and we arrange a time to collect the funds from the night. As we walk to my car I’m reminded of my encounter with the cops earlier.
“Sorry for being late to the event. I had to prove to the cops that my car wasn’t stolen.” Monica’s eyes bulge and her mouth hangs open.
“What do you mean?” She looks at me in disbelief. “Why would the cops think your car was stolen?”
I smirk. “Apparently someone reported it stolen. I can only guess it was Courtney.”
Monica covers her mouth as she laughs loudly. “You are joking? How is she getting away with this nonsense?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. But I need to talk to Chris. He’s the only one who can stop the madness.” I open my car door and sigh. “I’ll see you a little later. We need to plan our next fundraising event.”
Monica hugs me and whispers in my ear, “Thank you. For everything.”
I shrug her off of me and say, “It’s nothing.”
Guys are crowded in front of the frat house but I don't let that deter me. I walk past them and knock on the door. Someone yells out, "Chris is inside, you can just go in." I indulge him and walk through the door, straight to Chris' room.
The door is wide-open but Chris isn’t inside. I reach for my phone out of my purse and dial his number. I hear the phone vibrating nearby. I peep out the door, down the hall but I don't see him. I sit on his bed and replay the events of the day through my memory.
I hear a commotion outside, but I don't move until I hear a girl's voice screaming. Looking out the window I see Chris standing face to face with Courtney. I run outside the house and before I can get to Chris, my arm is snatched. I turn to see Sean pulling me away. "What are you doing?"
“Laila, ol’ girl is crazy. You may want to stay back.” I turn to see guys rushing towards Chris and others running into the house.
“What’s going on?” I try to get closer to Chris, and he turns towards me.
"Get her out of here." The same words were spoken the last time the three of us were together.
Sean tugs at my arm again and says, “You heard him. Let’s go.”
Before I can turn and walk away, Courtney yells, “Does she know about us?”
I look at Se
an, then to Chris. Chris doesn’t look at me, but he yells, “You’re crazy. You need to get the fuck out of here.”
I wriggle out of Sean’s grasp on my arm. Walking towards Courtney, I catch a glimpse of a shiny object she is pointing in his direction.
I stop a few feet away from them and say, “What is there to know, Courtney?”
She snaps her neck around to look at me. “We are back together. He keeps telling me he is over you.” She looks at him with a smirk on her face as she waves the knife in the air. “But obviously he hasn’t shared the news with you.”
Trying to keep her calm, I slowly say, “Listen, he’s yours. I was coming over to drop off a few of his things.” Chris looks at me and shakes his head. “Chris, it’s in your room. I’m leaving.”
The sirens are blaring as I walk away from them.
Chapter Twenty
I pound my steering wheel a few times as I stifle the screams trying to escape. My face is soaked with tears streaming down my cheeks. I search my purse for tissues and can’t find anything. Before I wipe my face with my shirt, knocks rattle my window.
Sean looks in the car and says, “Let the window down.”
I let the window down and sniffle before whispering, “What’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Sean looks sincere. Too bad I can’t trust his intentions.
“No, I’m not okay.” I wipe my face on my sleeve. “Is Chris okay?”
Sean nods his head. “He’s worth it, right?” He leans against my car and peers into the sky. “You don’t believe what Courtney was saying. Do you?”
“I don’t believe her, but I just wonder why her persistence isn’t wavering.” My phone rings, and it’s Monica. “I should probably get out of here.”
“I’ll let Chris know you left, and to give you a call.” He walks away and I back out of my parking spot.
Monica stops me at the front door. Her smile fades when she sees me. “Laila, what the hell is going on?” She grabs her phone and shoves it towards me. “Someone sent me this picture from the frat house.”
In the picture, Chris has his arms in the air and Courtney’s face is distorted. “I just left the frat house. Courtney showed up and confronted Chris.” I shake my head at the memory of her waving the knife at him. “I give up. She wins.” I throw myself on the couch. “If I don't give up, someone’s going to get hurt.”
Monica sits beside me. “I totally get it, but isn’t that what she wants? For you to give up.”
“Persistence pays off.” I smirk, then close my eyes as I rest my head on the couch.
“At least the fundraising event went well. Are you ready to plan the next one?” Monica sheepishly tries to change the subject.
Opening my eyes, I smile at Monica and say, “You were amazing! Who knew that you could own the stage like that? I am ready to plan the next event.” I sigh. “Anything to get my mind off of this situation.”
Nicole waltzes into the living room and puts her hand on her hip. “Yo, what the hell is going on with Chris?” She looks down at her phone. “Why are people sending pictures around of him and Courtney… fighting?”
My eyes roll and I look to Monica and let her explain. Monica looks at Nicole and says, “You might as well pull Jennifer in here too.” I nod my head.
Without moving from her stance, Nicole yells, “Jennifer get in here.”
Jennifer with her face wrinkled up stands beside Nicole, waiting for an explanation. Nicole looks back to Monica and she continues, "Courtney is crazy as fuck and approached Chris at the frat house." Monica frowns. "Obviously everyone near the frat house has heard about the situation."
“And I’m done.” I shrug.
“What?” Nicole yelps. “The crazy chick approaches Chris and you’re done?” She sits down on the couch. “Just like that?”
Jennifer sits on the floor in front of me, gazing up at me without a word.
“Courtney was waving a knife at him. If I don’t step away one of us is going to get hurt.”
“Whoa.” Nicole’s eyes stretch. “Sounds like she needs to be admitted.” Jennifer nods her head in agreement.
My phone rings and when I see Chris’ name I answer the phone and raise my finger in the air to pause my conversation with the girls.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“I’m good. Where are you?”
“I’m at my apartment.” Before he can ask any more questions I say, “Courtney has issues. Real issues.” I want to tell him I’m done, but I can’t find the words.
“She does. Hopefully, the cops will get her straight if nobody else can.” Chris sounds as defeated as I feel. “Can I come over?”
The girls are hanging on my every word. “Yeah you can, but can you give me an hour I need to finish talking to my roommates.”
“Just text me when you are ready.”
“My campaign can wait.” Monica narrows her eyes at me after I end my call.
Jennifer cocks her head up at me and says, "You love Chris,” She pats my leg. “Although I'd rather you be single, don't give up."
“Does anyone know how much money we made tonight?” I look to Nicole, who designated herself treasurer of the campaign. “There was a good turnout. What was our cut again?”
Nicole looks at me with her mouth hanging open. “I’m amazed. You switched topics as if you don’t have a crazy woman trying to take you out and a man trying to save you.” She chuckles.
I roll my eyes and groan loudly. “How much money, Nicole?” Looking at Monica while I wait for Nicole to respond, I say, “For our next event I say we do a car wash.”
“I would say we made at least three-hundred dollars.” Nicole looks at me with her head bobbing then says, “Maybe three-fifty.”
Jennifer perks up. “And we said a thousand is our goal, right?”
Monica looks at us with her nose scrunched. "We could always skip the shirts, but we'll need flyers and posters."
Jennifer nods and says, “I’ll have the design ready in a few days.” She turns to me then says, “Can you call Chris now?”
“Yes.” I stand to walk to my room. Instead of calling, I send him a text.
Laila: Come when you’re ready.
Chris pulls me into a tight hug and whispers in my ear, “I’m so sorry.” He pulls back and kisses my forehead. “You don’t deserve any of this.” He shakes his head and I see a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
“Chris, as far as I know you don’t deserve this either.” I lay my head on his chest. “What’s going to happen next?”
"I honestly don't know." I feel his shoulders shrug. "I don't know if the cops will keep her. The knife she was waving at me suddenly disappeared when they arrived. At the most, she might be banned from campus."
“Her parents must be just as deranged. You’d think they would make her stay away from here.” I pull away and look up at him. “Have you told your parents?”
He exhales. “I did. My mom is worried and determined to speak to her parents.”
“Maybe that’s a good idea. Our efforts don’t seem to be working.” Chris rubs his hands up and down my arms landing on my shoulders.
“More importantly. When you said I was hers, you didn’t mean it did you?”
Tears break away as I try to respond. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He kisses my cheek and I feel a tear roll off his face onto mine. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“How are you hanging in this class, Laila?” I look up from my notebook and see Stephanie staring at me with a wide grin. “Ready for the exam next week?”
“I’m keeping up, but I’m not sure I will be ready for the exam.” Since the Courtney incident I haven’t been able to focus long enough to study for more than thirty minutes at a time. “What about you?”
Stephanie’s grin fades. “I’ll be ready by then.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I hope.”
Professor King walks through the door and says, “Class is
dismissed for today. Check your emails this afternoon for tonight’s reading assignment.”
Stephanie and I exchange looks. The class begins to disperse before Professor King can change her mind. I throw my notebook and pens in my bag and walk towards Professor King. Up close, I see her eyes are puffy and her nose is red. “Everything okay?”
Professor King stares at me for a minute before responding. “I just got word from Professor Douglas’ family that he passed away early this morning.”
My mouth drops open and I grab my chest. I whisper, “Wow.” My head drops and the shame weighs heavy on my back. I should have taken the time to visit him.
Professor King wraps her arms around me. “If you want details about the memorial service I’ll pass them along to you.” She guides me out of the classroom and we walk beside each other in silence until we reach her office. “This is going to be a tough time for the entire department, but I know you had a great relationship with him at one time.”
I nod as I glance in the direction of Professor Douglas’ office. “I should get out of here. But please let me know about the service.” I give her a hug before walking away.
Before I exit the building, my phone rings, and it’s Evan. I’m sure he’s heard the news by now, but I hope he isn’t calling for me to write an article. I think I’ve done enough already by interviewing the girls who Professor Douglas allegedly harassed.
I ignore the phone and continue walking to my car. Instead of going to my last class of the day I drive to Lake Ella. The trail around the lake is full of walkers and joggers taking advantage of the moderate temperatures. Doing the same activity mid-summer would nearly cause a heat stroke.
I walk around until I find a bench, and take a seat alone. My thoughts drift off to the many conversations I had with Professor Douglas and I can almost hear his Jamaican accent as if he were standing in front of me. If only I could go back to before the scandal erupted.
When our last conversation plays back in my head, tears glide down my face. I was too damn stubborn to stick around to listen to his side of the story. Now I’ll never really know what happened with those girls and why I never felt the least bit uncomfortable around him.