Mirrored Images

by Michelle Larks

  “Are you going to the party tonight?” Rhonda inquired.

  “Of course I am,” Moniqa exclaimed. “Who isn’t? I want to see what Morehouse has to offer.”

  “I hear you,” Rhonda replied solemnly. “Unfortunately I made plans to go home this weekend. So I’ll have to pass on the festivities.” Rhonda was a pretty, light-skinned plump girl who wore her hair in cornrows braids and Moniqa disapproved of the hairstyle. She felt it made Rhonda look butch.

  “Have fun.” Rhonda waved goodbye. Then sped down the hallway.

  Moniqa glanced thoughtfully down at the box in her hand and ripped it open. It was from Vanessa. She eagerly tore open the package and was overjoyed to find the familiar Nordstrom logo. She pulled out a two-piece, Kelley green, crepe pantsuit. Moniqa peered at the label and read DKNY, her favorite designer. Vanessa had also enclosed a gold lamé halter. Moniqa nodded her head in satisfaction. Mommy came through. Just when I needed her the most.

  An hour and a half later, she returned to her room from the communal shower. Natalie, a student who resided on the second floor, styled Moniqa’s hair in spiral curls and Sabrina, another dorm mate, gave her a French manicure. All she had to do was change clothes and apply makeup.

  Moniqa slipped her feet into gold sandals. Look out Morehouse! Moniqa is in the house.

  * * *

  The gym room was packed wall-to-wall with gyrating bodies. Couples bumped and ground as multi-colored strobe lights swept the room. Speakers blared The Butt as Moniqa made her grand entrance. She paused at the doorway and turned more than a few heads of both sexes. She walked to an empty table near the center of a room. A sweater was slung carelessly on the back of one of the chairs.

  Moniqa, never missing a beat, stashed it under the table. She waved her girlfriends over, her eyes snagging a handsome young man dressed in a white cotton teeshirt and black vest. His legs were encased in black, pleated cotton pants and black leather sandals on his feet. His hair was styled in a fade haircut with glistening waves on top. His body was to die for. Moniqa purred like a kitten. She unconsciously rubbed her hands together.

  Moniqa’s friends, Fay and Veronica, walked to the table and sat. She leaned toward Veronica. “Who is that guy?” She didn’t want to point, so gestured with her eyes.

  “Oh, you mean him? He’s Morehouse’s athlete extraordinaire.” Veronica sucked her teeth. “His name is Jeremiah Jeffries, star quarterback and he’s also runs track. Rumor mill has it that he’s unattached.”

  Moniqa nodded her head slowly, her eyes narrowed. “I think I’ll go over and introduce myself to Mr. Jeffries.” Her hand unconsciously patted her hair. She sashayed over to Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah did a double take and grinned. “Mel, I thought you were studying tonight? You changed your mind.” He smiled and walked toward her.

  Moniqa grinned as she walked to her dream come true. “Not so fast. I’m Moniqa, Melissa’s twin sister.” She extended her hand. Her tongue darted out of her mouth. Hmm … little sister has been holding out on me.

  Jeremiah took her hand into his. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Melissa mentioned she had a sister, she just didn’t tell me how much you two favor each other.”

  “Silly boy. Twins usually do. Favor each other that is… We’re identical twins.” She held his hand as long as possible until he gently pulled his hand away from hers. “Would you like to dance?” Moniqa asked him, smiling.

  “Uh … no thank you. I’m looking for my boys. I think one of them is calling me now.” He cocked his ear and glanced about the room. “It was nice meeting you, Moniqa. I’ll tell Mel that we’ve met.”

  “Oh, the pleasure was all mine.” Moniqa smiled coyly. Sensing Jeremiah’s eyes on her departing figure, her bottom swayed seductively.

  When she returned to her seat, Veronica leaned over and smirked “So what’s up with that?”

  “Give me time,” Moniqa replied nonchalantly. She removed her jacket. The top seemed molded to her body and just a bit of cleavage was exposed. Her eyes gravitated on Jeremiah talking with his buddy on the other side of the room.

  A young man walked to Moniqa. “Would you like to dance?” His arms were folded aggressively across his chest

  “Sure why not.” Moniqa jumped up. Dancing meant she could keep her eyes on Jeremiah.

  When the song ended, the young man followed her back to her seat and sat in the empty chair to her left. “What’s your name, pretty lady?” he asked.

  “Moniqa Adams.” Her eyes traveled around the room. Then she peeked at the man beside her. He was attractive, with a head of shoulder length, locked, brownish-gold hair. He was clad in tight blue jeans, a red tank top with Jordan sneakers on his large feet.

  His eyes twinkled with merriment. “My name is Rodgers Hardison III.” His voice was deep with a lilting quality. He held his hand out to Moniqa.

  She put her hand in his and he gently kissed it. A shiver ran up her spine. “Do you go to Morehouse?”

  “Actually, I crashed the party,” he confessed conspiratorially. “I go to Morris Brown.”

  “I see,” Moniqa replied dryly. She snatched her hand away from his as if it were poisonous.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, mocking her. “I’m not good enough for a Spelman sister?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Moniqa said turning up her nose. She muttered under her breath. “Hell no. I’ll have me a Morehouse man or no one at all.” She glanced at him. His skin was the same smooth brown complexion as Jeremiah’s.

  “So can a brother get those digits?” he asked, ignoring the brush-off the stuck-up, petite young woman delivered to him. She appeared to be more than a handful. Rodgers felt up to the challenge.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Moniqa replied, looking away from him.

  “What if I told you, that I really do go to Morehouse? Would that change your mind?”

  “No, not really.” It dawned on her that Jeremiah had flown the coop. He was probably on his way to meet her lame sister.

  Rodgers unzipped the pouch around his waist and pulled out a card. “When you have time, give me a call? And for your information, pretty lady, I attend Morehouse. I’m doing a double major. Business and communications.” He stood and left the table.

  Moniqa couldn’t resist peeping at his shapely butt.

  * * *

  Jeremiah was outside talking with his buddies, Jeff and Mark. The night air was humid. Perspiration trickled down his face. The streetlight illuminated the starry night.

  Jeremiah waved his hands in the air. “Man, I tell you, the whole thing was too strange. Melissa didn’t mention how much she and her sister look alike. Seeing her was downright uncanny.” He shook his head from side to side.

  “From where I was standing, it looked like sister-girl had eyes for you. Only the great Jeremiah Jeffries would have sisters after him and twins no less,” Jeff said as he and Mark exchanged high fives.

  “Cut that shit. You know it ain’t like that. I’m kinda digging Mel. I thought she had changed her mind and decided to come to the dance. I invited her to join me but she declined.”

  Mark doubled over with laughter drawled, “If only I had the problems that you have, my brother. All kinds of women falling at your feet.”

  “Hey, I’m outta here. I’ll holler at you guys tomorrow.” He waved as he walked to the parking lot.

  * * *

  Eventually, Moniqa figured out Jeremiah wasn’t returning to the party and decided to call it a night. After bidding her friends goodnight, she donned her jacket and headed out. She was consumed with thoughts of Jeremiah Jeffries and wondered how he knew Melissa as she walked to her room. It’s too bad Melissa is my sister. But love don’t love nobody. If he isn’t married then he’s fair game even if my competition is my twin sister. I’ll call Miss Melissa tomorrow morning and see what is really going on with her and Mr. Jeffries.

  A smug smile lit her face. She might have her work cut out for her. Still, Moniqa was up for the challenge. As she walked, she to
re up the card Rodgers had given her. Then dropped the tiny pieces on the ground.

  Chapter Eight

  Melissa lay on the bed, her face covered with her hands. She felt miserable as she wondered if Jeremiah and Moniqa had met at the dance. Wild speculations galloped unchecked through her mind. If they had met, what did Jeremiah think of her sister and Moniqa of him?

  A sliver of fear prodded her stomach muscles. Moniqa always had an unrelenting urge to one-up Melissa. She sat up and punched her pillow and sighed.

  The telephone rang. She hesitantly picked it up after the fourth ring. What if it’s Moniqa? I am not up for this. “Hello?”

  “What’s up, lady?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Nothing much. I studied as I told you I was. Now I’m chillin’ listening to some music.” Her voice rose in anxiety. Here comes the big kiss off. I know it. “How was the dance? Did you have fun?”

  Jeremiah teased her. “Hmm… Let me see? Well I would have enjoyed it better had a petite miss by the name of Miss Adams walked in with me.”

  Melissa giggled in response.

  “Let me see what else was memorable about the dance?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, there was another Miss Adams at the dance who looked suspiciously like you. Mel, you told me you had a sister who goes to Spelman but didn’t tell me you two are identical twins. I thought you’d changed your mind and decided to join me.”

  “So you did meet Moniqa?” Melissa’s head dropped to her chest as her pulse jumped erratically.

  “Yes, she made it her business to introduce herself.” Jeremiah answered nonchalantly. A blind man couldn’t have missed Moniqa’s overt glances at him during the dance.

  “Hmmm. That’s good,” Melissa lied. “I guess I won’t have to bother introducing you two.”

  Jeremiah heard a note of trepidation in her tone and wondered if he’d committed a faux pas. An awkward period of silence rose between he and Melissa. “What are you doing tomorrow night? How about going out to dinner and a movie?”

  “I’d enjoy that,” Melissa replied gratefully.

  As they chatted, Melissa wanted to ask him if he found her sister more attractive. The conversation became strained. Jeremiah ceased questioning Melissa about her twin sister and promised to pick up her tomorrow evening at 7:00 pm.

  * * *

  Connie returned at little after midnight to find Melissa nearly in tears. “What’s up amiga, why you crying?” She walked to the bed and sat.

  “I just got off the phone with J,” Melissa answered with a tear- stained face. “It was the worst conversation ever. I know Moniqa threw herself at him. I just know it,” Melissa wailed. Tears streamed down her face.

  “I told ya before. You should have gone with him. Trust me.” Connie nodded her head knowingly. She took a tissue off her dresser and handed it to Melissa. “Moniqa wasn’t the only girl at the dance with the hots for J. Trust me on that. He’s a fine brother. That’s exactly why you should have gone to the party with him. Then you wouldn’t be sitting here sniffling right now,” Connie stated impatiently, as she waved her hand around. “I don’t know why you let Moniqa get to you the way you do.”

  “You don’t know how she is,” Melissa said after she blew her nose. “She is ruthless. When she sees something she wants, Moniqa doesn’t give up until she gets it. It doesn’t matter how either.”

  Connie snorted. “Don’t let her win then. I know it’s easier said than done but I think you give her way too much power over you.” She sat next to Melissa and rubbed her back. “Did Jeremiah call after the dance?”

  “He did.” Melissa wadded the tissue up and dropped in the trashcan next to her bed.

  “Then you ain’t got nothing to worry about, girl,” Connie declared as she smiled. She unbuttoned her blouse and yawned. “You’re in like Flynn.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Melissa said doubtfully. She stretched her arms over her head. I’m tired myself. Let’s finish this conversation in the morning.”

  * * *

  The following morning the telephone rang. Connie opened an eye and gazed at the caller-id unit. “It’s for you. It’s your cousin.” She turned her body, facing the wall and pulled the covers over her head.

  Melissa picked up the telephone. No one else called that early in the morning. “Yeah, what do you want?” she asked rudely as she brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.

  “Girl, I know you know how to answer the telephone better than that. Where are you manners?” Bobo scolded.

  “I don’t have any until at least noon, on the weekends,” Melissa groused as she squinted at the clock. The dial read 8:00 am.

  “Get that wench Connie up. I’ll be over with breakfast in a half hour.”

  Melissa slammed the telephone into the receiver and turned over and went back to sleep.

  It wasn’t long before she and Connie were awakened by a booming sound at the door. “Tell me that’s not Bobo?” Connie grumbled. “Don’t that boy know the meaning of weekend?”

  “Chop, chop, get up, ladies. I’m here with breakfast. It’s getting cold…” Bobo’s voice was muffled through the door.

  “I think we should make him stay out there,” Melissa complained.

  “Not if he’s got breakfast with him,” Connie chided her. “I ain’t rich like ya’all. I gotta be careful and save my pennies. Be there in a minute.” She jumped out of the bed, put on the top she’d dropped on the floor last night and wound a bandana around her head. Then opened the door to admit Bobo.

  Bobo had stopped at McDonald’s. The aroma from hotcakes and sausage filled the room. Small cups of orange juice completed the morning meal. The three sat on the bed together wolfing down the food, smacking their lips. Connie licked the sticky brown syrup from her fingers as they talked occasionally.

  Connie’s side of the room was messy. Piles of clothing and books lay along the side of the wall. She kicked her underwear under the bed. Her desk was in an equally sorry state of disarray. Melissa had often wondered how Connie managed to finish her studies. The roommates only spent Saturday morning doing household chores. Melissa usually washing clothes and changing her bed linen. Connie would straighten the mess on her side of the room.

  The ringing telephone shattered the silence. Bobo asked, “Do you want me to get it?” His eyebrows rose questioningly.

  “Let it ring,” Melissa answered uncaringly, wiping her hands on a napkin.

  Connie belched delicately. “Oops sorry.” She covered her mouth. “That was good. Thanks, Bobo. I keep telling your cousin you’re good for something.” She winked at him.

  “How’s your sister? She called me Thursday and said she hadn’t talked to you in a while. Busy with Mr. J? Are you avoiding Ms. Moni?” Bobo cut his eyes sharply at Melissa then drained the remaining orange juice from his cup. The telephone rang again and abruptly stopped.

  “What makes you say that?” Melissa avoided his eyes. She stood. “I’ll be right back.” She scampered from the room. Connie watched sympathetically.

  Bobo turned and looked at Connie. “What’s up with the terrible twos now?”

  Connie picked up clothing from the floor and sorted it into neat piles. “You should really wait for her to tell you.” Her voice dropped an octave as she explained what had happened last night.

  Melissa walked unnoticed back into the room. “I swear you two aren’t up to any good. Why are you all up in my business?”

  Bobo crushed the bag from McDonald’s. He tossed it toward the trashcan. It fell in. He walked over to Melissa, “Girl, we blood. You’re the closest I have to a sister. So whatever concerns you concerns me.”

  Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. She hugged Bobo. They sat on her bed as she shared her fears about her twin and Jeremiah.

  Connie tactfully left the room, saying she was going to shower to allow the cousins privacy.

  As Melissa talked, Bobo listened carefully He asked questions and interjected his opinion from time to time.

  “Connie is right
. You’ve got to stand up for what’s yours, Mel. Moniqa can’t always win. I know you like J. From what I’ve seen he seems he cares for you. Stand up for yourself. Don’t just give up and hand him to Moniqa on a silver platter.” He pounded his fist into his hand. “Fight for what you want.”

  Melissa knew what Bobo said was true. But standing up to her sister was easier said than done.

  “Come on, let’s do your laundry and then head back to my dorm and do mine.” Bobo tucked her arm into his.

  Chapter Nine

  The college campus was nearly deserted as students headed home for Christmas break. The cousins sat in the boarding area of the packed airport waiting for their flight to be announced. Christmas carols serenaded the holiday travelers as thousands of people stood or sat clustered as departure and arrival times were announced.

  Melissa, in the throes of new love, longed to stay in Atlanta and spend the holidays with Jeremiah and his family. Vanessa put the kibosh on those plans by playing on Melissa’s guilt complex. She rode home the issue that Melissa’s behavior would be considered inappropriate to family members and friends.

  Nancy had talked to her granddaughter about her growing relationship with Jeremiah. Though sympathetic to the young couple, she agreed Melissa should come home. Nancy had ulterior motives; she missed her favorite grandchild and couldn’t wait to see her.

  Moniqa flipped the pages of the latest issue of an Essence magazine, pausing from time to time to gaze at Melissa and Jeremiah, who sat a couple of rows away from her.

  Bobo observed Moniqa staring at the couple and found the situation comical. There hadn’t been any occasions when Moniqa’s plans had been thwarted. Today was one of those times and he was lucky enough to witness his cousin’s distress up close and personal. The plane was scheduled to depart in 45 minutes.

  Moniqa glanced at Melissa and Jeremiah. Disgust tarnished her face. He should have been mine. She snorted aloud. Melissa doesn’t have a clue what to do with a man like that.