Keysha's Drama

by Earl Sewell

  “Okay, I’ll work on that,” I said.

  Chapter 15

  Jordan and Maggie took care of the details regarding getting my records transferred to Thornwood High School, which was my new school. Going to a new school as a new kid is never easy. In my case, going to two new schools in such a short time was even more difficult. I didn’t know anyone—well, I knew Mike, but he was a jackass. I didn’t know exactly where my classes were, and I didn’t know which teachers would be mean and difficult, so on my first day I was very nervous. I was worried about the way I looked and how people would perceive me. I was worried about my new haircut because I knew girls talked about other girls with short hair. I was paranoid that someone would say something mean about my pimples, which actually were looking a lot better since Grandmother Katie had shown me how to use Proactive Solution. But still I had some concerns about self-image.

  Thornwood High was within walking distance of the house. I thought for sure Mike would at least walk with me, but he had football practice at 6:00 a.m. on my first day. As I approached the school, I saw kids hanging out in the school parking lot. Kids were pulling up in Mustangs and BMWs, which was unheard of at my other schools. I looked over at a group of girls who were standing next to a silver Mercedes. I listened as they sang the lyrics to a Missy Elliott Song.

  “Why don’t you just take a picture, it lasts longer,” said one girl who noticed me studying them. It was clear that I’d annoyed her. I walked away quickly before I ended up getting into an altercation on my first day. I walked through a set of large brown doors and searched for a sign that would point me in the direction of my guidance counselor’s office. I had to stop and meet my guidance counselor, some dude named Mr. Sanders, to pick up my class schedule. I didn’t see any signs so I asked a guy who was passing by.

  “Excuse me, can you tell me where the guidance counselor’s office is?”

  “Go all the way down the hall and make a left,” he said and continued on his way. I followed his directions and a short time later entered the guidance counselor’s office.

  “Excuse me,” I said to the receptionist. “I’m here to see Mr. Sanders.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m a new student. He’s expecting me.”

  “Name,” she said without looking at me.

  “Keysha Wiley, I mean, it’s Keysha Kendall now.”

  “Oh, yes. We’ve heard about you.” I quickly caught an attitude.

  “What have you heard?” I asked. She didn’t answer, only looked at me as if I’d offended her.

  “Are you Keysha?” A very tall Caucasian man with a round belly and thick glasses appeared from one of the offices.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Well, come on in,” he said with a pleasant voice. I entered his office and sat down. He shut the door and took a seat behind his desk, which was very junky. There were papers piled up everywhere.

  “You’ll have to excuse my desk. My student assistant is out with the flu,” he said as he searched through the mountain of papers and folders on his desk.

  “Here we go,” he said once he found my file. He leaned back in his chair and studied it for a moment before speaking.

  “The scores that have come in from your other schools aren’t very impressive, that is with the exception of your literature grade. You did well in that subject.” I wanted to explain the reason I did so poorly was because my mother never prepared me for school and how I was expected to become pregnant and bring a welfare check into the house, but I didn’t think he would care to hear my drama.

  “We’re going to monitor your progress and see how well you perform academically. This is a tough school, Keysha, and the teachers here expect nothing but the best.” He glanced up at me. I didn’t know what to say. School for me was just a place I could go to get away from my mother. I hadn’t paid attention to my grades since middle school. After I saw that my mother couldn’t care less, I stopped putting forth an effort. Mr. Sanders exhaled loudly.

  “Here is your schedule.” He handed me a sheet of paper and began to explain it to me.

  “Your math scores are very low so we’ve placed you in a remedial class.” I cringed when I heard that. “Now this doesn’t mean you have to stay there. If you can prove yourself, we’ll move up to a basic math class, and if you do well there, you can move on to a class that’s at the correct level. Math is the first class that you have. Second period you’re in a basic science class because your other school didn’t offer a science program. Third period you have gym, fourth period you have study hall, then lunch, social studies and finally literature. Is that okay?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I asked.

  “No, you don’t,” he answered me honestly. “But I’ll tell you the same thing I tell all of my other students. School is what you make of it. If you don’t put forth an effort, you’re going to get poor results. You’re responsible for the decisions you make regarding your education.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Come on, I’ll show you where your locker is and then walk you to your first class so that you don’t get a tardy slip.”

  When I walked into my math class, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me. Mr. Sanders spoke with the teacher briefly, and then I was instructed to sit next to this chick who was wearing all black. I mean, she was the strangest-looking white girl that I’d ever seen. Her hair was raven black, her eye shadow was black, her lipstick was black and her fingernail polish was black. She had multiple piercings in both ears, her bottom lip was pierced and all of her earrings were black. The girl looked like the daughter of Morticia from The Addams Family, but she was nowhere near as sexy or as cool as the character Morticia. I cautiously sat next to her because I didn’t know if she was diseased or something. Shortly after Mr. Sanders left, the teacher gave me a math book and opened it up to the section we were going over. She told me to follow along, so I took out my math notebook and a pencil. The class was studying basic addition and subtraction.

  “Hey, girl,” whispered the chick wearing all black. I nervously glanced over at her. She stuck out her tongue and flicked it back and forth against her lips, making an odd noise. Her tongue was pierced, as well. This chick is crazy as hell, I thought to myself. I looked at her clothing more closely. She had on a black top, with black jeans and black combat boots. At that moment, I told myself that my problems weren’t so bad.

  “This class totally sucks,” she whispered but I didn’t respond. “I know you can hear me,” she said but I continued to ignore her.

  “Ahhh, you’re a new chick,” she said. “I’m going to have to break you in, girl.” I was horrified at the thought of exactly what she meant by that.

  The bell rang and I pulled out my course schedule to see what room my science class was in.

  “Let me see your schedule,” asked the girl. I hesitated.

  “Come on, let me see the damn thing. I’m not going to eat it.” I was still hesitant.

  “Look, you’re new, right?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “That means you don’t have a frigging clue as to where you’re going. Let me see your schedule and I’ll tell you which way to go.” I handed it over to her. She began to bob her head up and down.

  “Oh, cool. We have the next four classes together.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

  “Nope. Looks like that jackass Mr. Sanders thought you were going to be a problem child so he stuck you in all of the classes with problem kids.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Because only the problem kids get low test scores and end up in a classroom full of rejects. Like you and me.” I looked at her like she was crazy.

  “I’m Liz.” She stuck out her hand for me to shake it. It was the first time I’d noticed that all of her fingers had black rings on them.

  “I’m Keysha,” I said as I shook her hand.

  “Come
on, stick with me. I’ll make sure you get to your classes.” We walked out of the room and into an overcrowded hallway filled with students. As we made our way through the crowd I heard other students boldly degrading Liz.

  “Aaaaaa—It’s God-Lizard,” said some basketball jock.

  “Aaaaa—It’s Hillbilly Bob from Hillbilly Heaven,” Liz quickly fired back.

  “It’s the Lizard Wizard,” said another student.

  “Ooh, it’s Loser Lou,” Liz said as she gave him the middle finger.

  It was strange watching how Liz maneuvered through that crowded hallway and through all of the teasing and wisecracks. I felt bad for her and began to think that she was misunderstood, just like me.

  We entered the science room and I followed her to the back table and sat next to her on one of the stools. We were the first students in the class.

  “Look, I need a lab partner, so what do you say? You and I can be partners.” I was hesitant at first because I wasn’t sure that I even wanted to be around her.

  “Look, you’re new. No one is going to pick you and since I don’t have a partner, the brilliant science teacher is going to pair us up anyway. So let’s just cut the middleman and be partners.”

  “What’s up, Lazy Liz?” said some guy who had just walked in.

  “Bite me! Groovy Grover,” Liz shot back.

  “Groovy Grover?” I laughed out loud.

  “Yeah, that’s Garret Groover. He’s a complete idiot. Don’t pay him any attention.”

  “Girl, I’m not trying to get any of your fleas,” said Grover. Liz gave him the middle finger and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Look, just sit someplace else. If you don’t want to be my partner then I don’t care. Just go and sit someplace else and leave me alone,” said Liz.

  “No,” I said. “I’ll be your partner.” I felt sorry for her.

  “Cool, we can both flunk the class together.” She laughed and so did I.

  Chapter 16

  So where are you from?” asked Liz. We were now on the way to lunch together. There was nothing feminine about Liz. She walked like a man and talked like a man and had a very strong presence about her. Regardless of the nasty comments a few students made about her, Liz couldn’t have cared less, and I suppose I was drawn to her because of her strength. She was strong in ways that I didn’t think I was.

  “Chicago,” I said.

  “Really? What side of the city?”

  “South side,” I answered her.

  “Cool. I used to live on the north side a few years back. Up in the Ravenswood area. I still have a lot of friends in that part of town. They’re much cooler than these stuck-up rich kids out here.” We turned left down another corridor and I could see the cafeteria ahead of us. “So how did you end up at this school?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  “Hey, I’ve got nothing but time,” Liz said as she held the cafeteria door open for me. The place was noisy and packed with kids.

  “Come on, the line is over here.” I followed Liz and stood in line.

  “The pizza sucks. Never eat it because I think they spit on it. The fries and burgers are good but never, under any circumstances, eat the fish sticks. If you do, you’ll spend the afternoon with a bad case of the runs.”

  “Eeew,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Liz responded. “The people in this school are so lame. The cheerleaders are way too damn catty. The jocks, or the jockstraps as I call them, are completely into their bodies. They’re all brawn and no brains, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, my brother is like that,” I said, thinking about the incident I had with Mike yesterday.

  “You have a brother who goes here?” Liz asked.

  “Yeah, his name is Mike Kendall.”

  “You’re kidding me?” Liz asked completely surprised.

  “No. Why did you respond like that?”

  “The kid is only a freshman, and he is one of the most popular kids on campus. He came into the school and broke the sprint record for the fifty-yard dash. The old record was 5.5 seconds and he ran it in 5.3 seconds. The football and track coaches were on him like flies on shit. I heard that he’s the only freshman on the varsity football squad.”

  “I don’t know much about all of that,” I admitted.

  “Well, just FYI for you. He thinks everyone likes him, but it’s only because of his speed and the fact that your dad works for the hottest radio station in town. People have been blowing his head up because they’re hoping to get some free concert tickets or something.”

  “Does he know kids are just using him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. Either way, the guy is popular. It’s practically unheard of to be a freshman and playing football on the varsity squad.”

  Once we got our food, I followed Liz around the cafeteria to a table filled with other students who were dressed like Liz. Everyone had piercings, spiked and multicolored hair, and damn near all of them wore black.

  “Yo, listen up.” Liz got everyone’s attention.

  “This is Keysha, she’s new and is going to be hanging out with us.” I said hello to everyone and they just nodded.

  “So what’s your story?” Liz asked as she dipped a few of her French fries in a small cup of ketchup.

  “My story is real jacked-up.”

  “Hell, honey, I’ve already figured that one out. Give me details.” Liz leaned forward so that she could hear me clearly.

  “My grandmother was arrested for bank robbery and is serving time in prison. My mother is also serving time. When she got arrested, I had to live in a group home for a while.”

  “Oh, man, you too? I knew that I liked you the moment I saw you. Which whacked out facility were you at?”

  “I was at a place on the south side. You were in a group home too?” I asked.

  “Hell, worse. I was at Sunnyville.”

  “Sunnyville?” I asked, confused.

  “You know, the nuthouse. They wanted to evaluate my mind for a while,” she said, bugging her eyes wide open as if her mind was some great mysterious phenomenon. I was intrigued by her story and wanted to know more.

  “My dad was my world. I was his princess.” I read Liz’s expression and I could tell that what she was about to tell me was deeply personal. “He and my mom got divorced a few years back. I can’t stand my mom because she’s such a bitch, so I asked to go live with my dad. He was the coolest dad a girl could have. He was a soldier in the army. When the whole Iraq War thing broke out he was called to duty. To make a long story short, his unit was escorting a supply truck and they were ambushed. He was killed.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said, feeling really bad. I knew that it had to have been hard to know her father all of her life and then lose him.

  “Anyway, when I got the news I didn’t take it very well,” she said, and then she just stopped talking. I waited for her to continue but she didn’t. It was as if she’d locked up her feelings about it or something.

  “So that’s why you wear all black, because you’re in mourning, right?” I asked. She suddenly slapped the palms of her hands down on the table, making a loud sound that startled me.

  “See.” She pointed her finger at me. “Why is it that you can see that but my all-knowing mother thought I’d flipped out and shipped me off to the damn nuthouse where a weirdo tried to fry my damn brain?” Liz was very passionate as well as angry.

  “So, you’re back at home with your mother?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and her new boyfriend, who has moved in with us. I don’t like him at all. He keeps telling my mother that I’m headed for trouble and blah, blah, blah.” I didn’t ask Liz any more questions because she appeared to be on the edge and I didn’t want to push her. Hell, and I thought I had it bad, I thought to myself.

  I met Liz after school, and since her house was in the same direction as mine, we walked home together. I wanted to know more about her dad so I as
ked another question.

  “So, what was your dad like?”

  “He was cool. If I said, ‘Hey, dad, can I get fifty bucks to go shopping with,’ he’d give me sixty and say get something to eat, as well.” Liz continued, “He was always around whenever I needed him. If my bike was on a flat, he’d fix it for me. When I wanted to learn how to swim, he’d spend his Saturday mornings teaching me how. When I was selling Girl Scout cookies, he made sure that my order sheet was always filled. I loved him. I could always depend on him for anything. He was the type of dad who always bought me something when we went shopping. Even if it was the dumbest toy ever made. He’d buy it for me because I wanted it.”

  “What do you miss the most about him?” I asked.

  “His smile, his laugh and his scent.” Liz paused in thought. “I suppose the thing I miss the most is him coming into my room at night and tucking me in. I know it sounds corny, but I’d lie in the bed and he’d wrap me up like a mummy and then hug me. That was the best feeling in the world.” I saw Liz wipe a tear away from her eyes. I felt her pain so I hugged her.

  “Ew, you’re hugging Lesbo Liz,” said a group of guys who were walking past us. I didn’t care what the other kids thought. I just felt she could use a hug, and she accepted it.

  “I hate this damn war,” Liz said as she backed away from me. “I’m sorry for dumping on you like this.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I can understand how you must feel.” We walked a little farther and finally reached my house.

  “Nice house,” Liz said. “It’s big.”

  “Maybe you could come over sometime. We could sit around and listen to music or something.”

  Liz laughed. “Or we could get online and hang out in a chat room and see what kind of perverts are out there.”

  “I’m not too sure about that one,” I said, laughing.

  “Well, don’t knock it until you try it. It’s kind of fun and exciting to talk with someone who is in another part of the country or the world.”