Fast Life

by Cassandra Carter

  “Do you wanna come in for a drink before you go?” she asked.

  “No, I’m cool. I better get going. It’s getting dark.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” She planted a soft kiss on his cheek and turned to go inside, leaving him frozen for a minute and badly wanting to stay.

  She watched from the other side of the door as he walked away, and she felt good inside. She had just found out about Makai, and as much as it hurt her, Justin helped to ease that pain. With him, there was something there. She could feel it. He was a friend, but there was something about him that made her want him to be more than that. And that was what scared her.

  CHAPTER 9

  The months flew by, and by late May, Justin and Kyra’s relationship had grown. They flirted constantly, and it was obvious to everyone around them that they cared for each other. But no one, not even Justin or Kyra, opened up and shared their feelings.

  The days carried on as usual. Everyone would go to school and chill, go to eat or go to Provo and catch a flick. Justin and Kyra went to the library for her tutoring sessions; Kyra felt that would be a “safer” move. The temptation for what she believed would be too-soon a sexual encounter at her home was too great.

  Kyra made remarkable progress in her classes and was bringing home good grades, which made her mother happy. Angel and Quentin were as in love as they wanted to be, and Michael continued to pull girl after girl, being the bachelor that he was.

  Things were going pretty well for Kyra. Her life, which had once felt like it was spinning out of control, now seemed to move at a steady pace. Of course, as Justin and Kyra grew closer, Veronica became more and more envious. Everything seemed to be going Kyra’s way until she missed her period.

  A Saturday-morning trip to the grocery store, ten dollars, a cheap pregnancy test and the most nerve-racking three minutes of her life proved to be a disaster. The results came in the form of two pink lines. She quadruple-checked the instruction packet and the stick to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating, but it was true: Kyra Jones was with child.

  Kyra heard five rings, five times, but she received no answer as she tried to reach Makai. Her patience was waning and she was ready to give up when her perseverance finally paid off the sixth time she called. On the second ring, he answered.

  “Who’s dis?” He yawned into the phone. It was only eight-thirty a.m.

  The sound of his voice sent chills down her spine, a reflex she couldn’t help.

  “Kai…” Kyra whispered into the phone, trying to calm her racing mind.

  “Kyra? How you been down there, baby girl? Sorry I haven’t had the chance to call. I’ve been so busy. I miss you like crazy, girl. You just don’t know….” Makai poured out excuse after excuse, trying to sound as devoted as possible.

  “Baby, who is it?” Mercedes groaned in the background. Makai ignored her, but Kyra heard. She could see right through his fake affections.

  “Look, Kai, I know you’ve been fuckin’ Cedes, so cut the bullshit,” she said.

  “What? Baby, I don’t know who you heard that from, but…” He acted as if he were genuinely shocked by the accusation.

  “Don’t worry about where I hear shit from.”

  “Oh shit…” Makai mumbled under his breath. “Come on, girl, you know I love you. I wouldn’t even do you like that.” He put the phone closer to his mouth as he whispered into the mouthpiece.

  “Yeah, right, whateva. Me and you ain’t shit. I got someone else now anyways, besides your sorry ass,” Kyra lied. She liked Justin, sure, but he couldn’t be officially claimed.

  “What? Okay, okay I got you, shawty. I see you out here. You wanna up and move and act all brand-new and shit. So tell me, if we ain’t shit, then what the fuck are you calling me for?”

  “Because…I’m…pregnant.” The words dropped from her mouth.

  “And?” He sighed as though the news was petty and irrelevant.

  “And? It’s yours! What do you mean ‘and’!”

  “You just said you have someone else down there. It could be his. All I know is it ain’t mine.”

  “Don’t even try to fuckin’ play me like that, Kai! You know it’s yours! The only man I’ve ever fucked in my whole damn life is you!”

  “This ain’t even my problem. Don’t call me at some eight-thirty in the fucking morning talking about this bullshit. I got too much shit on my hands right now, and I don’t need a kid, too.”

  “And what, you think I do?”

  “Fuck this and fuck you, Kyra. You were right, I’m with Cedes now, so stop calling me. This shit ain’t my problem. Get rid of it.” He coldly cut her off.

  “What the fuck you mean, Makai? ‘Get rid of it?’”

  “It’s simple. Get an abortion,” Makai heartlessly advised.

  Click!

  When she reached the island of Providenciales, she didn’t have a clue where she was going as she walked along the busy streets. Provo and Prince Paul might as well have been on two separate planets when comparing how peaceful things were. The bombardment of noise almost reminded her of Chicago, a place she’d never thought she would despise but now did.

  She continued to walk along as the sun brought forth sweat from her pores, then stopped abruptly. HEALTH CLINIC was in big red letters on a small building a little farther down the way. She had questions she could not answer, but they could.

  “I just got the results from the lab.” The doctor shut the door to the small examination room behind her.

  Kyra had been pacing the length of the room for the past twenty-five minutes, but now she stood motionless and at attention. “And?”

  “No need to worry. It was a false alarm. You are not pregnant.”

  Kyra exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

  “Sometimes at-home tests don’t give the most accurate results. You missing your periods could be a result of stress or birth-control-pills. I actually want to talk to you about some methods of contraception…”

  Kyra sat in the room and acted as though she were listening. The truth was that she hadn’t listened to anything the doctor said since she’d gotten her results. She had her answer, and that was all she needed.

  School was nearing its end, but an anniversary was nearing, as well. It was death: the death of Marcus Jones, Kyra’s father. It seemed like every month since the move, something traumatic happened: the move itself, discovering the betrayal of Makai and Mercedes, the pregnancy scare and now the painful memory of June 1, 1997.

  Kyra’s schoolwork became less important and she wasn’t her usual self. It was apparent to everyone that something was wrong, but when asked to elaborate she would only respond with a meek smile and an “I’m fine.” Her response never varied. She wouldn’t open up to tell anyone about her father. Not even Justin. It was just too personal and far too painful for her. Besides, how exactly do you go about telling someone you saw your father murdered when you were only five years old?

  Kyra sat in a trance in her wicker chair. She was in a dreamlike state, lost in her own world, staring helplessly into space, when the doorbell rang. Its unexpected echo throughout the house caused her to shuffle to the door in hopes the visitor wouldn’t ring the bell again.

  “Hey,” she greeted Justin as she opened the front door to him.

  “What’s good?”

  “Nothin’, just, uh…workin’ on some homework. You know how it is. What are you doin’ around here?”

  “I was just rolling by with Q and Mike, so I figured I would stop by and see you.” She looked past him to see Quentin and Michael waiting in the convertible outside. She waved and they returned the gesture.

  “But anyways, do you need any help with that homework?”

  “No, I got it.”

  “Good. See, that tutoring paid off.”

  “I dunno how.”

  “It’s ’cause ya boy is so smart!” Justin popped his collar in the form of a boast. Kyra couldn’t hold in her laughter. S
he hadn’t really laughed for days.

  “So…are you ready for Friday?” He asked his question from the kitchen, where he was busy helping himself to a grape soda.

  “Friday?”

  “Yeah, Friday. Don’t tell me you forgot again.” He sipped the ice-cold beverage. “My birthday party at Club Xscape. Ring any bells?”

  “Oh yeah…” Her memory was slow to click in, but now she remembered.

  She fell silent and stared off. Justin had been born on the day her father had died, and every time he talked about his birthday, it only reminded her just how quickly that day was approaching.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

  “Because every time I talk about the party, you get this look in your eyes. And lately, I don’t know…you just seem down. You seem kind of out of it. I mean, if you don’t want to go, that’s okay. Just let me know.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s nothin’. I’ll be there. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” She painted her face with a false smile to reassure him.

  “Good. You know it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Justin kissed Kyra on the cheek and looked her in the eyes for a minute before leaving. He and his boys disappeared down the road, stirring up dust just as they had the first day she saw them.

  Friday, June the first. The day fell upon Kyra faster than she had thought, but no one could control the hands of time. It was the end of the day, and she sat in class waiting for the bell to dismiss her.

  Brrring!

  The bell rang, and all the students headed for the hallway, Kyra included. But right before she reached the door, Ms. Kingsley stopped her.

  “Kyra, do you have a second? I would like to speak with you.” Ms. Kingsley had perfect timing. She caught Kyra right as she reached the door. The teacher stood up from her desk, taking her glasses from their place on her nose. Kyra felt the anticipation of freedom leaving her. Kyra stopped without saying a word. She already had an idea what this was about. She had been through it more than enough times at her previous high school.

  “Kyra, what is going on with you lately?” Ms. Kingsley asked. Her face was concerned as she shut the door to her now-empty classroom.

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “In class you aren’t paying attention like you used to. You zone out. Is something the matter?” Ms. Kingsley asked as she leaned her weight on the edge of her desk.

  “No…”

  “Well, if there is, you can talk to me, okay?”

  “Okay, thanks.” Kyra quickly turned to leave the room. The idea of confiding in any authority figure was bizarre to her.

  “No. Not so fast. I also wanted to talk to you about your work. Your grades are steadily declining, and I’m missing several homework assignments from you. When you first came here you were shaky, but then you were doing so well. Now I’m not so sure. Whatever it is you have going on, your academics are suffering because of it.”

  “Look, it’s nothin’. Next week I’ll make up all my work. I swear I will. I just had some stuff on my mind lately, that’s all,” she said, putting her hand on her forehead and running it over her hair.

  “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt only because I like you.

  But don’t you try to put one over on me. I know you know how that goes. I saw you and Veronica on your first day. It looked like you were going to claw her eyes out.”

  “I was,” she chuckled.

  “Well, that’s all. You need to get on home. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Okay, bye.” Kyra shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. That was close, she thought.

  “Oh yes.…That sounds great.…I am too old for that…! Where is it…? Oh really…? How long…? God, I haven’t been out that late in ages! Well, sure, alright, I’ll be there at nine on the dot. Bye-bye.” Kyra reached her house to find her mother in the middle of a lively telephone discussion. She was very excited about something and was smiling uncontrollably, with giggles here and there.

  “Who was that?” Kyra asked curiously.

  “A friend from work. They invited me to go dancing tonight. A lot of people from work are going.”

  “Oh. You know what day it is, right?”

  “Yes. It’s the first. I don’t think I can forget it.” Her mood turned bitter.

  “Are you doing anythin’ for Dad before you go out?”

  “No. I didn’t plan on it. There’s not too much I can do.”

  “Well, could we pour out some liquor or somethin’, light a candle, I dunno. I just want to do somethin’ for him. I can’t leave flowers like I usually do, so…”

  “You already do, sweetie….” Her mother paused for a moment before speaking again. “I have some Hennessy up in the top cabinet above the refrigerator.” She pointed to the storage place and gave her daughter a crooked look.

  “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

  “Because usually you would be losing it right now with me going out tonight. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m goin’ to Justin’s birthday party tonight, anyways.”

  “I didn’t know you had plans tonight. What time will you be home?”

  “Not too late,” Kyra lied. She planned to be out as late as possible and was sure she would return sometime the following morning.

  “All I know is you better be in before I am,” her mother warned.

  “Okay,” she replied acknowledging her mother’s warning as she retrieved the bottle of dark cognac from the cabinet. “You want to do this now?”

  “Yeah. We might as well,” her mother agreed. She stood and began to make her way to the sliding doors that led out to their picturesque backyard.

  “To Daddy.” Kyra’s voice was tainted with sadness as she tipped the bottle back up. She poured the earth a drink in memory of her father’s passing.

  “To Marcus,” her mother whispered in the breeze.

  “We will always love you, and may you rest in peace.”

  Her mother solemnly repeated the sentence and closed her eyes. There was a moment of silence and a gust of air. She appeared to be almost in prayer. Then, without a bit of subtly, she opened her eyes and spoke in a normal, almost cheerful tone.

  “I need to go figure out what I’m going to wear tonight.” Those were the last words she uttered as she walked back into the house. The loss of her husband was too painful to dwell on, and she didn’t bother to offer any soothing words of sympathy to her child.

  Kyra stood outside for a moment alone. Now was the time for her to move on; she could feel it. She would not forget, but she had to let go. If she didn’t she was sure she would lose her sanity. She turned to the house as a strong gust of air blew by and made her hair flutter in the wind. She looked up and smiled sadly at the sky. She emptied the liquor onto the ground and blew a kiss from her hand to her father.

  It was a quarter after seven when the doorbell rang. Kyra’s mother answered it in her long red and black cocktail dress to let Angel inside.

  “Hello, Mrs. Jones. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks, honey. Kyra is in her room straight down that hall,” she said while putting on an earring.

  “Thank you,” Angel said.

  “Come in!”

  Kyra stood in front of her vanity in an orange skirt set. The material was sheer and the skirt was asymmetrical, giving the whole outfit an island style. She also wore heeled sandals that tied around her ankles, and her naturally wavy hair was ironed straight.

  “Angel, please tell me that’s not what you’re wearin’.” Kyra stopped putting on her finishing touches as she looked Angel over in horror. From the small black heels accented by fake flowers to the puffed-out, almost–sixties-style black satin skirt, all the way to the matching top and the pink cashmere sweater tied around her neck, the outfit was the most unfashionable thing Kyra had ever seen, next to their school uniforms.

  “This is it.” Angel looked her outfit over with an innoce
nt smile on her face. Unlike Kyra, she was pleased with her choice of clothes.

  “Angel…you’re my girl and all, but…no. I mean…yo, what the hell is that? It looks like you went in your grandmama’s closet! Those are not party clothes, and I’m not about to roll with you lookin’ like that. You won’t only embarrass me but you will embarrass yourself like that.”

  “Oh…okay.” Angel didn’t quite know how to take the criticism, and her confusion could be heard. “What am I going to do? I don’t really have anything else nice to wear to a club, and all my clothes are at home.”

  Kyra put her hands on her hips and thought for a minute, then looked at her closet. She had the perfect idea.

  “Wear somethin’ of mine.”

  “Oh no, Kyra. I love your clothes, but I just couldn’t.”

  “I insist. I won’t even touch your hair or makeup if you don’t want. I just wanna hook up your outfit. Come on. Please, Angel. My clothes have practically been going to waste with us having to wear those uniforms to school. And just think of Quentin’s face when he sees you.” She teased and coaxed her friend into delivering an answer, which came after only seconds of deliberation.

  “Okay, fine, and if we do an outfit you might as well do hair and makeup, too.” She threw her hands up in defeat.

  “Oh, this is goin’ to be fun! Come here,” Kyra exclaimed as she opened her large closet.

  “You have so many clothes!” Angel’s eyes were not at all prepared to take in the sight of the jam-packed closet full of designer fashions.

  “I know, I know.”

  “Okay, don’t look yet! No! Stop tryin’ to peek! Okay, okay. Now you can look.” Kyra touched up Angel’s lip gloss in between swatting her hands away from attempting to lift the handheld mirror. Thirty minutes had gone by and her makeover was nearly complete.

  Angel turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She had on a short white skirt, a pink and tan spaghetti-strap lace top that showed off her toned stomach, and a pair of pink and white Reeboks to keep it simple. Her makeup was light, and her hair was in a simple ponytail with two strands left to dangle on the sides of her face.