by Ni-Ni Simone
Kellita says, “Yeah, he broke up with her in July. It’s Christmas and she’s three months pregnant.”
I burst into laughter. “She thought you’d fall for that?”
“You think it’s funny, but I think she’s convinced herself that it’s true,” Kellin says. “You heard her. She’s still trying to pretend like I’m gonna be her baby’s father, and her man.”
“That’s kind of crazy,” I say.
“That’s a whole lotta crazy,” Kellita says. “But if she keeps messing with Mama Owens, it’s gonna be curtains.”
The twins crack up laughing together and for the first time, I can see their resemblance. Their body types are nothing alike. She’s short and curvy, probably how Mama Owens was when she was seventeen.
Mama Owens bursts through the doors with her assistant, a ridiculously skinny black dude who looks as if he could use an entire vat of lotion. I’ve never seen anyone so ashy. It’s like he jumped out of the shower, dried off, and ran through a gigantic flour sifter.
“With all this laughing going on in here, I can’t believe anyone’s getting any work done. Have y’all started on the chicken?”
Kellita says, “Kellin and I cleaned it last night. It’s in the refrigerator.”
“Humph. I wanted Zoey to learn how to clean chicken.”
Kellita says, “We’ll teach her tomorrow. Do you think I could get off early today, Mama Owens?”
“Get off early? For what?” she asks.
“It’s warm outside and I want to take the babies to the zoo. They would like that.”
Mama Owens rolls her eyes. “Them babies is too little to care anything about the zoo. They just two years old! All they care about is sipping them dang sippy cups all day.”
“Mama Owens . . . please!”
“Who’s gonna run the register if I let you go early?”
“Me! Me!” Mama Owens’ ashy assistant is just a little bit too eager.
Mama Owens replies, “Lester, you know good and well you ain’t running no register.”
“I’ll do it,” Kellin says. “And I’ll teach Zoey too, so Kellita can have a backup.”
“All right then,” Mama Owens says. “But this is your last time this week. Don’t ask again.”
Kellin and I go to the front of the restaurant. “So, I’m gonna teach you how to open the restaurant, but . . .”
“But what?” I ask.
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to learn anything from me? Being that I’m so ignorant and all.”
“That was my bad, Kellin. I jumped to conclusions.”
“As long as you don’t let that happen again, we might end up being friends.”
Friends with a handsome, athletic football player from Skyline High School? Hmmm . . . not typical Zoey, but I think it just might work.
8
“So what was your first day like as a member of working class America?” Todrick asks as we chill at Main Event.
“It sucked!” I say.
We’re watching a group of kids from our high school bowl. It’s a bowling party, I guess, but only a handful of people are bowling. The rest, like us, are sitting at tables behind the lanes.
I didn’t really feel like coming because my feet hurt like heck. Standing up all day, taking and filling orders was too much. I’ve never worked that hard in my life. There were servers who put the food in the take-out containers, but I had to check it, bag it, and hand it to the customer. If Kellin hadn’t been there helping me, I don’t know how I would’ve survived.
Cheyenne says, “Did you meet anyone interesting ? Any cute guys? Seems like I remember one working there.”
“I met these twins, Kellin and Kellita. They go to Skyline . . .”
“Hood alert!” Todrick says. “Hood alert!”
“Stop it! They’re really cool. Their grandmother runs the kitchen.”
Cheyenne puts one finger in the air. “Wait. Kellin Owens? Quarterback of the Skyline High Raiders?”
“Oh, he didn’t mention he was the quarterback. You know I don’t follow sports,” I reply.
“Yeah, he went All American his sophomore year and his junior year. They think he’s going to get a full ride somewhere, and probably go pro before he graduates from college.”
“Wow. He didn’t mention any of this,” I say.
It’s crazy that Kellin didn’t tell me any of these great things about himself. Just the fact that he’s still working in his family restaurant is tripped out. I’m sure if he threw his weight around a little, no one would make him chop onions or clean the fat out of chicken thighs (yeah, you don’t even want to know. Grosser than gross).
“I bet he’s a jerk,” Todrick says. “Most QB-1’s are jerks.”
“Actually, he was really cool,” I say. “He showed me the ropes. How to cut celery and clean chicken.”
Cheyenne makes a gagging noise. “You had to clean chicken? See this is what I’m talking about. If you have to clean a piece of meat, why would you then go and put that in your body? That’s disgusting.”
“Stop being such a vegan,” Todrick says.
“I’m not a vegan. I am a vegetarian. There’s a difference.”
“Do either of them eat hot dogs?” Todrick asks.
“Ew!! No. Unless they’re tofu dogs.”
I tune out of Cheyenne and Todrick’s pointless argument about nothing. I think about Kellin and that girl trying to pin a baby on him. He better be careful. He could end up with a child support order before he graduates.
“So . . . did he ask you for your number?” Cheyenne asks.
I scrunch my eyebrows into a frown. “Who? Kellin? No. It’s not like that. We’re cool, that’s all.”
“Why is that all? Does he have a girlfriend?” Cheyenne asks.
“Don’t know. Didn’t ask,” I reply.
Todrick says, “I thought you were moving on to the next one. If this guy is available, he might be a good one.”
Why are my two friends ready to pass me off to the next boy like I’m some kind of old maid, living with my parents at the age of fifty, and starting a collection of cats and house dresses? I’m seventeen and I just broke up with my boyfriend last week! Is there something that says I have to replace him within seven days or less? If there is no one gave me that memo. I’m tired of missing memos of such crucial relevance! Blank stare.
“I’m not ready for another boyfriend yet. I’m still kind of on Mario.”
Cheyenne slams her hand down on the table. “How are you still on him? I thought we had moved beyond that.”
“Not on him as in trying to get back with him. I just am not ready for a new dude.”
“Why the heck not?” Cheyenne asks. “There’s nothing like a new boo, to help you get over an ex-boo.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I ask.
“Cosmo Girl.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Well, what does Cosmo Girl say about you when your ex-boyfriend brings you a Christmas present on Christmas Day?”
Cheyenne’s eyes widen. “Mario brought you a present?”
“Yeah, some Aeropostale T-shirts that I already had.”
Cheyenne frowns and shakes her head. “I can’t stand him. He couldn’t be more original than that?”
“I didn’t care. I gave them to Layla. It’s whatever.”
Todrick asks, “You didn’t give him that crunk Hollister T-shirt and Fossil watch did you?”
“Yeah, I gave it to him. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve taken it back to the store and used the money for that stupid go-kart. Do y’all know that’s gonna cost two thousand dollars to fix?”
“Word?” Todrick asks.
“Word! That’s why I’m stuck chopping celery every morning for the rest of the break.”
“Are you gonna work there when we go back to school?” Cheyenne asks. “If so, this could be problematic.”
“I’m going to work there on Wednesday nights from five until nine o’clock, Friday from five u
ntil nine, and Saturday from noon until eight.”
“That’s pretty much your whole weekend!” Todrick says.
“It’s not the whole weekend. I’ve got after nine on Friday. Late night skate doesn’t even start until nine thirty. And we’ll still have time to get into Applebee’s on Saturday.”
“Not liking working class America,” Todrick says. “You’re messing up our trio.”
“Why don’t you get a girlfriend? Then you’ll have something to do,” Cheyenne teases.
“When are you going to get a boyfriend? You’re always on me, and dissing Zoey about her break ups!”
Oh, for crying out loud! I wish these two would stop fronting and just get together.
“When I want a boyfriend, I’ll have one. The guys are lining up!”
I shake my head. “I’ll be back. I have to go to the bathroom.”
“TMI!” Todrick says in his frantically-pitched voice.
Hopefully, they’re done with their pretend spat by the time I get back to the table.
The bathroom is disgusting, as usual. What is it about teenagers storming a place and destroying the bathroom facilities? I get a big wad of toilet paper and start wiping stuff down inside the last stall (which is hopefully the least used).
I hear voices outside the stall. Annoying voices. Mindy and Ashley, Dorie’s cheerleader friends. They are the last people I’m trying to see right now.
“He’s just a glee club geek. It’s all a joke, you know,” Ashley says.
“I thought it was a joke, but Dorie seems like she really likes him, so I wasn’t sure anymore,” Mindy replies.
Ashley says, “Dorie’s good! She and Ethan both have to date a geek. The one who gets broken up with first loses.”
“That is crazy. What’s the prize?”
Ashley giggles. “I don’t know if there is a prize! I think they just want to do it because they’re bored.”
Okay, this calls for me holding my pee.
I open the stall door and say, “Dorie stole my boyfriend over a joke?”
“Look, Ash, it’s Crash and Burn! How do you like working in the hood?” Mindy asks.
“Whatever. You can tell Dorie that I’m telling Mario. I’m telling him, so she’s going to lose the game.”
“You’re such a lame,” Ashley says. “You should be happy. Dorie showed you Mario’s true colors. You would’ve never known he was a player if it wasn’t for her.”
I go back into the stall and slam the door. It probably would’ve been much more dramatic if I’d stormed out of the bathroom angrily. But I really have to pee, and I am not trying to add peepee girl to my brand new nickname of Crash and Burn.
I hear Ashley and Mindy leave finally, so then I come back out of the stall. I had to wait for them to leave, because they couldn’t see my face. I didn’t want them to see me crying about Mario.
I don’t want to see me crying. But as I look in the dirty, greasy mirror, the tears are kind of hard to ignore.
9
“So what if I do like Cheyenne? Should I tell her? Do you think she’ll dog me?” Todrick asks me.
Todrick is sitting with me at our kitchen table. It seems that when I called them out at Main Event that I was on to something. I was just blurting, and now he wants to tell me all about his secret crush. I’m not in the mood, but at least listening to him rant and rave helps me keep my mind off of Mario and Dorie.
“Well, we know that Cheyenne has her rules, right? So you probably should get a Cosmo Girl to see how to approach her.”
“Funny, funny, ha, ha. I’m not reading any teen girl magazine to tell me how to get a girlfriend. I’m just gonna go for it.”
“Have you had a girlfriend before Cheyenne? If so, please do tell, because I don’t recall hearing about it, and we’ve been friends since the third grade.”
“Don’t be a hater all your life, Zoey. I’ve had girlfriends. Remember Madison?”
“Oh . . . how could I forget Madison? But was she your girlfriend, or did she just make you buy her stuff? I don’t remember her ever saying that she was officially your girlfriend.”
“Well, she sure kissed like my girlfriend.”
“Ew . . . did not need to have that visual. At all. No thank you for that.”
“So anyway, back to Cheyenne. Should I just say, ‘Look, you da best, and I’ve had you on my radar for like two years now. So, let’s both stop fooling ourselves and do the dang thang.’”
I roll my eyes. Hard.
“You are a goofball, Todrick. Don’t use any song lyrics in your approach. I’m one hundred percent sure that she won’t like that.”
“I like song lyrics. They can sometimes say what we’re too afraid to put into words.”
“I think you should just be like, ‘Cheyenne, I think you’re a great friend, and I’m crushing on you. Is that okay? Are you crushing on me too?’”
Todrick shakes his head. “No way! That leaves me way too open to embarrassment. That just sounds like I’m begging for her to say, ‘Get out of my face.’”
“I know Cheyenne. She will like that you put yourself on the line like that, and that you aren’t afraid to say how you feel. Trust me. I know my girl.”
“So you think that will work? Me sounding like a sucka?”
“I don’t think that makes you sound like a sucka. Why do guys have to be so hard all the time? Why can’t you just be honest? If Mario had just been honest with me, we wouldn’t have had such a tripped out situation.”
Todrick laughs. “I was wondering when this conversation was going to turn and be about you and Mario again. It actually took longer than I thought it would!”
“Shut up! I was just using that as an example.”
“Have you decided what to do about Dorie’s game?” Todrick asks. “Are you going to tell him, or let him get played?”
“Part of me wants to tell him, you know? Part of me thinks that maybe once he sees how horrible Dorie is, he’ll want us to get back together.”
“Do you want that? You want to get back together with him?”
“No. I don’t. I just want to feel like I won, you know? If he wants me back and I don’t take him, then I’ve won. Because right now, every time I see him I feel like a big fat loser.”
“You’re not a loser. You’re a girl that got played by a stupid boy.”
I nod in agreement. I know, deep down that I didn’t do anything wrong, and that he’s the one who’s stupid. But really, truly, does any of that matter? I’m the one with the egg on my face.
I’d like to be there to see Mario with egg on his face.
10
Cleaning chicken is a very disgusting job. You take the chicken thigh or breast and dig down into the crevices to clean out all of the little organs. Envisioning a chicken having kidneys and a liver is pretty disgusting. Having these little things slip between your fingers into a sink is beyond disgusting.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Kellin says. “It’s gonna be pretty boring if we clean all three hundred pieces of chicken in silence.”
“How’d we get stuck on chicken duty, tonight? It’s Friday! Where’s Kellita?”
“She’s got a date.”
“Wow! I’m here slinging chicken parts and that heifer is on a date?” I throw my hand into the air and a piece of chicken fat flies into my face.
Kellin cracks up and hands me an anti-bacterial wipe. “It’s the father of her twin daughters. They’re back together for now, and my mother hopes he’s gonna marry her.”
“Married at seventeen? That’s crazy.”
He shrugs. “Raising two kids alone at seventeen is crazy.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“So what’s up with you? Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Why? You don’t know me all like that to get in my business.”
Kellin chuckles. “You know all about my drama with Desiree. Why don’t you want me to know what’s up with you?”
“B
ecause you didn’t tell me all about you. We worked together all day for two days and you didn’t say anything about being the QB-1 at Skyline, nor did you tell me you were an All American.”
“Oh. Is that important to you? You a college scout or something?” Kellin asks.
He’s got this twinkle thing that happens with his eyes when he’s getting smart. It would be really hot if he wasn’t getting smart while he was doing it.
“No, but I’d like to know who I’m talking to or making friends with.”
“Well football is not who I am. It’s one of the things that I do.” I would swear that he dropped his voice an octave. Is he doing this on purpose?
“Well, who are you then?”
“I’m Kellin Owens, a funny and smart dude who likes to cook and play sports.”
I laugh out loud. “Who told you that you were funny?”
“You’re laughing aren’t you?”
I take another chicken thigh in my hand and slide the little guts out. After fifty chicken thighs, this is still gross. “Yeah, you are kind of funny.”
“Thank you. So tell me about you. Who are you?”
“I’m a singer. I love music, every genre.”
“Even heavy metal?”
“Even heavy metal,” I say. “Of course I don’t like all of the songs in that genre, but there are a few that I like.”
“Are you popular in your school?” he asks.
“Nah, not really. I’m not unpopular, but I’m in glee club. I think I probably lose cool points for being in the glee club.”
Now he’s the one laughing. “Glee club is cool.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because I was looking at your face, and thinking you might be cute if you didn’t have that hairnet on. Then I remembered the glob of chicken fat that was on your face a minute ago and got grossed out.”
“I might be cute? Wow. Whatever dude.”
“So now that you know me, will you tell me why you’ve been moping around all evening?”
“My boyfriend and I broke up. Right before Christmas.”
Kellin draws in a sharp breath. “Ouch. I’m guessing that you didn’t initiate it. Am I right?”
“Yeah. He broke up with me, for another girl . . . a cheerleader.”