by L. Divine
PRAISE FOR THE DRAMA HIGH SERIES
“The teen drama is center-court Compton, with enough plots and sub-plots to fill a few episodes of any reality show.”
—Ebony magazine on Drama High: Courtin’ Jayd
“You’ll definitely feel for Jayd Jackson, the bold sixteen-year-old Compton, California, junior at the center of keep-it-real Drama High stories.”
—Essence magazine on Drama High: Jayd’s Legacy
“Edged with comedy and a provoking street-savvy plot line, Compton native and Drama High author L. Divine writes a fascinating story capturing the voice of young black America.”
—The Cincinnati Herald on the Drama High Series
“Filled with all the elements that make for a good book—young love, non-stop drama and a taste of the supernatural, it is sure to please.”
—THE RAWSISTAZ Reviewers on Drama High: The Fight
“…A captivating look at teen life.”
—Harriet Klausner on Drama High: The Fight
“If you grew up on a steady diet of saccharine Sweet Valley novels and think there aren’t enough books specifically for African American teens, you’re in luck.”
—Prince George’s Sentinel on Drama High: The Fight
“Through a healthy mix of book smarts, life experiences, and down-to-earth flavor, L. Divine has crafted a well-nuanced coming-of-age tale for African-American youth.”
—The Atlanta Voice on Drama High: The Fight
“Drama High has it all…fun, fast, addictive.”
—Cara Lockwood, bestselling author of Moby Clique
Also by L. Divine
THE FIGHT
SECOND CHANCE
JAYD’S LEGACY
FRENEMIES
LADY J
COURTIN’ JAYD
HUSTLIN’
KEEP IT MOVIN’
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Drama High, Vol. 9
Super Edition
HOLIDAZE
L. Divine
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
One of my aunties said to me over the holidays that she doesn’t get the lingo of Drama High and she couldn’t stand the language. I wasn’t hurt by her truthful words because I honestly didn’t write them for her generation. I am well aware that there are people out there who don’t get my flow and never will. That’s the beauty of having multiple writers for multiple audiences. And that’s why I write this series: for the readers who get how we live, write, and speak. Our culture is real and prevalent. What can I say? Fiction mimics reality and vice versa. I’m tired of writing about drive-bys, car jackings, and other violent crimes. But they are the reality of daily life for many of us. And hopefully the day will soon come when I can write about these and other negative deeds in the past tense only.
When I heard that another family member was a victim of violence, I was in an immediate daze. This volume is dedicated to my cousin on both sides of my lineage, Khary Kidd, who was murdered during this novel’s creation. I will miss you always and treasure your bright smile and deep voice eternally. I love you and will keep a candle lit for you on my shrine.
i live in fiction
it’s all in my head.
i live in a world
between here and there,
every and nowhere.
i live in a place where I have the same face
i had as a child.
where ancestors come back in their prime
and spend time refining our
perfection.
i exist in a place where
word count is my sun
and page count my moon.
i come to and wash dishes, do laundry, cook dinner, and supervise the
real lives of two other real
people.
and then, back to my
characters.
back to the weaving of this reality I crave to
be in.
i live for this fictitious place.
i breathe in this make-believe space.
my body is a vessel for its stories.
and I live to tell them.
l. divine
2009
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to go back and say thank you to the many educators who have influenced my life’s work. This list is in no way complete, but it’s a great start.
Dr. Walter Allen, Dr. Valerie Smith, Dr. Richard Yarborough, Dr. Maureen Silos, Dr. Jenny Sharpe, Dr. Sid Lemelle, Dr. Robert Hill, Dr. T.J. Desch-Obi, Thomas Ennison, Nathan McCall, Baba Medahochi Kofi Zannu, Dr. Kwame Kalimara, SongoEniola Oladeji Kalimara, Elbert Shitamoto. And a special thank you to Khisna Griffin for being the best college counselor ever and to my first West African dance teacher, Nzingha Camara, whose course changed my life.
And a very special thank you to my agent, Brendan Deneen, and my publisher, Dafina/Kensington, for keeping the series going. Thank you for your faith in Drama High. Our novels nourish my children, my audience, and myself. For that I am forever grateful. I feel like I’m living in a dream sometimes because life as a working writer is a divine blessing. Thank you for the sweet reality.
THE CREW
Jayd
A sassy sixteen-year-old from Compton, California, who comes from a long line of Louisiana conjure women. She is the only one in her lineage born with brown eyes and a caul. Her grandmother appropriately named her “Jayd,” which is also the name her grandmother took on in her days as a voodoo queen in New Orleans. She lives with her grandparents, four uncles, and her cousin Jay. Jayd is in all AP classes and visits her mother on the weekend. She has a tense relationship with her father, whom she sees occasionally, and has never-ending drama in her life, whether at school or home.
Mama/Lynn Mae
When Jayd gets in over her head, her grandmother, Mama, is always there to help her. A full-time conjure woman with magical green eyes and a long list of both clients and haters, Mama also serves as Jayd’s teacher, confidante, and protector.
Mom/Lynn Marie
At thirty-something years old, Lynn Marie would never be mistaken for a mother of a teenager. Jayd’s mom is definitely all that and with her green eyes, she keeps the men guessing. Able to talk to Jayd telepathically, Lynn Marie is always there when Jayd needs her.
Esmeralda
Mama’s nemesis and Jayd’s nightmare, this next-door neighbor is anything but friendly. She relocated to Compton from Louisiana around the same time Mama did and has been a thorn in Mama’s side ever since. She continuously causes trouble for Mama and Jayd. Esmeralda’s cold blue eyes have powers of their own, although not nearly as powerful as Mama’s.
Rah
Rah is Jayd’s first love from junior high school who has come back into her life when a mutual friend, Nigel, transfers from Rah’s high school (Westingle) to South Bay. He knows everything about her and is her spiritual confidant. Rah lives in Los Angeles but grew up with his grandparents in Compton like Jayd. He loves Jayd fiercely but has a girlfriend who refuses to go away (Trish) and a baby-mama (Sandy). Rah is a hustler by necessity and a music producer by talent. He takes care of his younger brother Kamal and holds the house down while his dad is locked up and his mother strips at a local club.
Misty
The word “frenemies” was coined for this former best friend of Jayd’s. Misty has made it her mission to sabotage Jayd any way she can. Living around the corner from Jayd, she has the unique advantage of being an original hater from the neighborhood and at school.
KJ
He’s the most popular basketball player on campus, Jayd’s ex-boyfriend, and Misty’s current boyfriend. Ever since he and Jayd broke up, he’s made it his personal mission to persecute her.
Nellie
On
e of Jayd’s best friends, Nellie is the prissy princess of the crew. She is also dating Chance, even though it’s Nigel she’s really feeling. Nellie made history at South Bay by becoming the first Black Homecoming princess and has let the crown go to her head.
Mickey
The gangster girl of Jayd’s small crew. She and Nellie are best friends but often at odds with each other, mostly because Nellie secretly wishes she could be more like Mickey. A true hood girl, she loves being from Compton, and her man with no name is a true gangster. Mickey and Nigel have quickly become South Bay High’s newest couple, even if Mickey’s not sure who’s the father of her unborn child.
Jeremy
A first for Jayd, Jeremy is her white ex-boyfriend who also happens to be the most popular cat at South Bay. Rich, tall and extremely handsome, Jeremy’s witty personality and good conversation keep Jayd on her toes and give Rah a run for his money—literally.
Mickey’s Man
Never using his name, Mickey’s original boyfriend is a troublemaker and always hot on Mickey’s trail. Always in and out of jail, Mickey’s man is notorious in her hood for being a cold-hearted gangster, and loves to be in control. He also has a thing for Jayd, but Jayd can’t stand to be anywhere near him.
Nigel
The new quarterback on the block, Nigel is a friend of Jayd’s from junior high and also Rah’s best friend, making Jayd’s world even smaller at South Bay High. Nigel is the star football player and dumped his ex-girlfriend at Westingle (Tasha) to be with his new baby-mama-to-be, Mickey. Jayd is caught up in the mix as a friend to them both, but her loyalty lies with Nigel because she’s known him longer and he’s always had her back.
Chance
The rich, white hip-hop kid of the crew, Chance is Jayd’s drama homie and Nellie’s boyfriend, if you let him tell it. He used to have a crush on Jayd and now has turned his attention to Nellie.
Bryan
The youngest of Mama’s children and Jayd’s favorite uncle, Bryan is a dj by night and works at the local grocery store during the day. He’s also an acquaintance of both Rah and KJ from playing ball around the hood. Bryan often gives Jayd helpful advice about her problems with boys and hating girls alike. Out of all of Jayd’s uncles, Bryan gives her grandparents the least amount of trouble.
Jay
Jay is more like an older brother to Jayd than her cousin. Like Jayd, he lives with Mama but his mother (Mama’s youngest daughter) left him when he was a baby and never returned. He doesn’t know his father and attends Compton High. He and Jayd often cook together and help Mama around the house.
Contents
Prologue
1. Walk on By
2. An Unholy Day
3. Pour Out a Little Liquor
4. Lovesick
5. Sweet Hearts
6. A Spiral Spell
7. Misty Morning
8. Punch Drunk
9. Santa Baby
10. 5 Golden Rings
11. Dreaming Eyes
12. Deck the Halls
13. Home for the Holidaze
Epilogue
A Reading Group Guide
Discussion Questions
Prologue
“Jayd, can you hear me?” Mama says, but I can’t see where her voice is coming from. I know I’m dreaming, but it feels too real to be a dream. “Jayd, snap out of it before you get hurt!” Why is she yelling at me? All I’m doing is walking around the living room, and I could walk around this entire house with my eyes closed and not trip over a thing. But wait, this isn’t our living room. It looks like it, but I can tell from the furniture I’m back in my great-grandmother’s time again and this must be her house.
“Jon Paul, no! Give her back to me,” Maman screams at her husband, who’s holding their daughter tight. The baby screams loudly as Maman’s cries become even more powerful. She begins to shriek like an opera singer and my great-grandfather can’t take anymore. He slaps Maman hard with the back of his hand and she falls to the floor, hitting the Christmas tree on the way down.
“Lynn Mae,” Maman cries, holding her bloody face with one hand and reaching her free hand up toward her daughter, who is still in her father’s arms.
“Jayd, wake up, now!” Mama shouts, but this time she’s not in my dream with me. Where is her voice coming from?
“What is she doing here?” Jon Paul asks my great-grandmother, looking dead at me. Oh hell, no. I don’t want to be in this dream. Maybe I should wake up, but I can’t. I wish I had more control over when I wake up from or fall into my dreams.
“You do, Jayd, and now is the time to exercise that power. Wake your ass up!” Mama’s talking to me in my head, but not like my mom does. It’s as if I’m dreaming, but in reality I’m awake. What the hell? Before I can get a grip on what’s really going on, Jon Paul charges at me with his daughter in tow like he’s going to slap me, too.
“Jon Paul, Sarah has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone,” Maman says, now on her feet, her green eyes glowing like I’ve never seen before. Unlike in my last dream with Maman, this time her eyes look like emerald fireballs. He’s in for it now. And who the hell is Sarah?
“She’s always here. You know all about her whoreish ways, don’t you, young lady?” How did he hear my thought? I back away from my great-grandfather, frightened of his temper. As I stumble over a chair, I land in it and catch my reflection in a clean pot on the kitchen stove. The face staring back at me belongs to a girl about my age, but she’s not me. I’m bugging for real. This is too much for me to handle.
“Jon Paul, haven’t you heard of picking on someone your own size?” Maman’s voice begins to get higher in pitch and her eyes even brighter as she focuses all of her attention on him. His head begins to pulsate, just like it did in the vision that Mama and I shared on Christmas Eve, and he can’t take it anymore. He begins to charge toward the kitchen door, but Maman’s not letting him go anywhere with her daughter.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Maman says, putting her arms out for her daughter, whose eyes are also glowing. “Sarah, come here. And bring Lynn Mae with you. He can’t hurt you now.” I stay put because I don’t realize that she’s talking to me. But when she focuses her glowing gaze in my direction, I jump up from the table, walk toward my now mentally paralyzed great-grandfather, and take my grandmother out of his hands. When I reach my great-grandmother, she pushes us behind her and focuses all of her energy on crippling her husband. Maman’s powers are completely off the chain. And I thought Mama was gangster with her shit.
“Jayd, drink this,” Mama says, still talking to me from outside of my dream. I look down at the baby in my arms and she smiles back at me, making me think of what my ex’s daughter Rahima must be doing now, wherever she is. But this is Mama, not Rahima, and I’m about to freak out completely if I don’t wake up soon.
“Why is Jayd standing in the middle of the living room floor so late at night?” I can hear my uncle Bryan ask, but I can’t see him either. What’s really going on?
“She’s sleepwalking. Help me keep her safe, but don’t touch her,” Mama says. Sleepwalking? Damn it. I haven’t done this in years and it’s never good when I do. “Jayd, focus on my voice, not on whatever’s going on in your dream, and snap out of it, please.” The urgency in Mama’s voice scares me, but I still can’t find my way out.
“Okay girls, it’s time to make our move,” Maman says, not letting go of her visual hold on Jon Paul for a second. “As you can see, he kicked in the front door, so we’re going to have to make our way out the back. Stay behind me. And Sarah, whatever you do, don’t let go of Lynn Mae.” We follow my great-grandmother back into the kitchen and walk around her husband, who is now crippled on the floor and holding his head, which looks like it’s going to burst. “Walk right by him. Don’t look at him. Just keep moving and everything will be okay.”
“Jayd, stop walking,” Mama says, but I can’t. I have to follow Maman and get baby Mama out of harm’s way, no matter what
my grandmother says.
“Jayd, it’s not real. Stop walking, now. Bryan, follow us.” I follow Maman out of the back door, hand her baby to her, and she looks me in the eye, releasing me from my dream state.
Upon waking, I fall back into Bryan’s arms, completely lifeless. He holds me upright as Mama brings me to.
“Here, Jayd. Swallow this,” Mama says, forcing some thick concoction down my throat. I resist at first because the smell is putrid. Whatever’s in this cup reminds me of when Mama used to make me drink orange juice mixed with castor oil when I would get constipated as a child. I still don’t drink orange juice to this day because of that experience.
“Y’all are too much for a nigga sometimes, you know that?” Bryan says, holding on to me tightly as Mama continues force-feeding me. I hate it when this happens.
“Watch your mouth,” Mama says to Bryan. I look up at the both of them and realize we are standing on the back porch. It’s dark and cold outside. Mama’s dog looks at us from her post on the bottom step and seemingly shakes her head at the sight. All Lexi does is sleep and scratch herself, so I’m not really worried about disturbing her.
“Jayd, are you okay, baby?” Mama asks. Sometimes it’s too much for me, too. If I could just leave my powers at the curb right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’m getting sick of this shit.
“I’m fine,” I say, coughing up some of the thickness she’s made me swallow. I’m shivering in my thin nightgown and sweat pants and my feet are bare, causing the cold to run straight through my body. “Can I go back to bed now?” If Bryan’s just getting in from his radio show, it must be close to two in the morning and it’s a school day for me, no matter what kind of dream I just had.