by L. Divine
“Don’t you have other happy couples to harass,” Jeremy asks, wrapping his right arm around my shoulders and leading me toward campus.
“Yeah, Chance. Can’t you see we’re busy,” I ask.
“Jayd, you’re never too busy for your boy,” Chance says, kissing me on the cheek and falling into step with me and Jeremy while the other students rush past. “And, did I hear you say couple?” he asks.
“Yes, which means no more free kisses,” Jeremy says, pulling me slightly away from Chance.
“Hey, just because you’re my man don’t mean my cheeks, or any other part of my body for that matter, belong to you,” I retort, as sassy as ever. I do like Jeremy’s newfound possessiveness. It’s kind of sexy, as long as he doesn’t get too carried away.
“Hey dude,” Matt says as he and Seth walk up to us. “Chance, Jayd.”
“What’s up dude,” Chance says, giving Matt and Seth dap.
“Well, don’t you two make a picture perfect couple,” Seth says as Jeremy and I stop and lean up against the bicycle racks next to the Science building.
“How’s Nellie handling the nomination,” Matt asks.
“I think she’ll be fine,” Chance says looking around the buzzing campus. “Do you know if she’s here yet?” he asks, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and flipping it open to check the time.
“No, but I’m about to find out,” I say. “I have to get to my locker before the bell rings. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her then,” I say, reluctantly rising from my comfortable position next to Jeremy.
“Could you please tell her we need to talk,” Chance says. “She needs to know how to handle the nomination, know what I mean.”
“Yeah. Tell her we’ve got her back if any shit goes down,” Matt says.
“Yeah, I can’t wait until the Reid gets wind of our nomination. He’s going to be so pissed,” Seth says, looking like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
“Why did y’all nominate Nellie?” I ask. I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m hating because I’m not. Why they’re now her personal cheerleaders is what I don’t get.
“Honestly Jayd, we think she can win. She has that princess quality about her that gives her the competitive edge necessary for full domination,” Matt says. It sounds like he gave this a lot of thought.
“And also, she’s just enough of a bitch to instill fear in all the other candidates, which is exactly what we need to win,” Seth adds.
“Don’t be calling my woman a bitch,” Chance says, punching Seth in the chest. I knew he had a thing for Nellie.
“Your woman? Did I miss something?” Matt says.
“Nah, you didn’t miss nothing. My boy’s just got it bad for Nellie and she could care less,” Jeremy says, rising from his spot on the bike rack to walk me to my locker.
“I’ll relay all the messages,” I say, instinctively taking Jeremy’s hand and leading him up the walkway toward the main hall.
“I’ll catch up with y’all later,” Jeremy says, leaving his crew behind.
“Later, you two,” Chance says. “And, tell Nellie if she needs anything at all, hit me up.” Poor Chance. He’s picked the wrong Black girl to have a crush on. Although, I think it would be cute if he and Nellie became a couple. Then, we could all hang out together and start our own crew. But, I’m sure Mickey would have a serious problem with that. She’s already not feeling hanging out with the White side of campus. If Nellie crossed over, she’d be liable to leave us both behind.
When we reach my locker, Nellie and Mickey are already there waiting for me to arrive.
“Hey girl. What took y’all so long? The bell’s about to ring and we haven’t even had a chance to catch up,” Nellie says, reaching out to give me a hug.
“Sorry. It was my fault. We ran into my friends, a.k.a. your fan club,” Jeremy says.
“Her fan club? What are you talking about,” Mickey asks. She’s already on the phone with her man, I assume, and I’m sure they just saw each other. He comes to her house every morning before he goes to work, bringing her fresh donuts from Randy’s donut shop. They are too cute.
“Chance, Matt and Seth are looking for you. They want to give you some pointers on being the Drama Club’s nominee for Homecoming Princess, with the first round of voting taking place at lunch and all.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Nellie says, twirling strands of her hair around her index finger; she must have gotten a fresh perm this weekend. “I’ll have to catch up with them at lunch.”
“Voting? What the hell we got to vote for,” Mickey says, completely out of the loop. When it comes to school business, Mickey couldn’t care less. She might as well not even come to school sometimes, as oblivious as she is to the ins and outs of Drama High. All she cares about is what she’s wearing, who’s hating, and getting her diploma on time so she can go to beauty college. Everything else is secondary.
“Girl, where you been?” Nellie asks. “You have to vote for the top three candidates for each grade level,” she says, filling Mickey in while I retrieve my books from my locker. The bell has just rung and the race is on, with students bustling around the spacious hall, rushing off to first period.
“I don’t get it. If you’re nominated, doesn’t that mean you’ve already been voted in,” Mickey asks, putting her man on hold to get a better understanding of the voting process. I guess she cares now that her girl’s on the ballot. Jeremy shakes his head, amused by my girls’ conversation.
“No silly. I have to win a place on the actual ballot for next week’s election. This is just the beginning,” Nellie says all dreamy as if she’s running for Miss America.
“Shit, that means I have to vote twice,” Mickey says, resuming her phone conversation. “Baby, I got to go. The bell’s about to ring,” she says before hanging up her cell.
“That goes for me too,” Jeremy says, giving me a kiss before sprinting down the hall. “Check y’all later,” he says to my girls.
“Bye Jeremy,” they say at once.
“So, when is the voting supposed to take place?” Mickey asks, truly annoyed. Anything that takes away from her chill time aggravates her.
“At lunch. And the finalists will be announced Wednesday at break. Make sure you tell everybody in your classes, Jayd. I have to make it onto the ballot,” Nellie says as we all head toward our classes.
“Will do, Princess,” I say, teasing her. I’m sure she’s popular enough to make the ballot on her own accord. I really don’t want to get involved with all the election business. It’s too volatile here. These folks take their politics very seriously, as Nellie will soon find out.
When I get to Spanish class I notice our teacher/football coach, Mr. Donald, is dressed in a dress shirt and tie like he does on game day every Friday during the regular football season. I wonder what’s going on.
“Good morning class,” Mr. Donald says, waiting for the bell to finish ringing before continuing. “I have a new student coming in this morning and I’ll need to talk to him outside for a few minutes. You’ll need to complete page eight in your workbooks. And, if you finish before we’re done outside, you can start your homework on page 25 of your textbooks,” he says, picking up his teacher’s edition and writing the homework assignment on the board under today’s notes.
When I reach into my backpack on the floor next to my seat, I notice my workbook’s not in there. Damn it. I can’t go more than two days without leaving one of my Spanish books in my locker. Reluctantly, I have to ask for yet another hall pass.
“Mr. Donald?” I ask while raising my hand. He’s turned toward the board and doesn’t turn around to look at me. He already knows what I’m going to say.
“Let me guess, Miss Jackson,” he says. “You left your books in your locker.”
“Yes, I did,” I say. “I’m usually not this forgetful.” Mr. Donald turns toward the class and looks straight at me with no emotion.
“Here, Miss Jackson,” he says, handing me th
e hall pass. “And, please make this the last time.”
“Thank you and I will,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed. I like to remain somewhat anonymous in my elective courses. I just want to pass, not make friends or enemies.
As I rise from my desk to open the door, someone’s already on the other side pulling it open. I step outside, almost losing my footing, to see a familiar face from the past.
“There she is,” Nigel, my old friend from back in the day says as he releases the door to give me a tight hug. “How’s my girl been?” he asks. He looks too good to be visiting, dressed in a dark blue pinstriped suit and dress shoes.
“Nigel, what’s up?” I say as he lets me go just enough to look up at him. Damn, he gives good hugs. “And more importantly, what are you doing here?”
“Girl, it’s been a while and we miss you around the way,” he says, allowing the door to completely close and leaving us outside to quickly catch up.
By his “we” I know he means Raheem. Whenever we’d get in a fight, which was often, Nigel would always play the middle man. But, this is the longest we’ve gone without talking, mostly due to us all leaving our old school, Family Christian, at the same time. Both of them now live in Windsor Hills, which isn’t far from Inglewood, but still a completely different hood from my mom’s.
“A while? Try two years,” I say, releasing myself from his embrace to look him in the eye.
“So, you’re balling like that now, huh,” he says, grabbing my wrist and eyeing my gold bracelet. “Must be nice chilling with the White folks,” he says. “But I’ll know soon enough.”
“What do you mean by that,” I ask. “Is Westingle turning all White or something?” I say, referring to their school. It’s basically the Black South Bay High. My mom tried to get me to go there, but no such luck. Her address wasn’t in the right area and she missed the deadline for submitting a transfer request.
“No, but the coaches from South Bay said they could promise me a starting position, basically guaranteeing me recruiters from the top schools in the nation looking at me for scholarships. Now, a brotha can’t pass that up, can I?” he says, throwing me off a little.
“So, you mean to tell me you’re going to my school?” I ask, almost shouting. Oh, hell no. This can’t be good. And, knowing Raheem, he’ll be at every game, if not trying to transfer himself. They are each other’s clique, no other members allowed or needed.
“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Nigel asks, smiling. “Don’t worry; I won’t blow your cover, as long as you don’t blow mine.”
“No, not at all,” I say as Mr. Donald opens the door. But, hell yeah I got a problem with it. First Nellie’s nomination and now this. What the hell?
“Jayd, you know our new student Nigel?” Yeah, a little too well. But, Mr. Donald doesn’t need to know all that.
“Yeah, me and my girl here go way back,” he says, putting his arm around me and giving me one last hug before I head to the main hall.
“I was just going to get my book,” I say, leaving the two of them to talk.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Jayd. Raheem gave me a letter for you, but I left it in my locker.” A letter saying what, I wonder? All I need is more drama to deal with.
After voting, Nellie, Mickey and I decide to hang in South Central for the remainder of lunch. Although I miss my man, I need to chill with my friends, too. Most of the usual suspects are still voting in the cafeteria. So, it’s unusually peaceful in the quad area.
“Do you think I made it?” Nellie asks.
“I think so. The other names on the ballot weren’t nearly as recognizable as yours. Well, except for Laura,” I say. Laura’s the first lady of ASB and that unofficial position always has its perks.
“What’s the big deal,” Mickey says, picking at her hamburger. We each settled for cafeteria food today, which isn’t so bad. But, the voting line was long and our food has gotten cold. “So what if you don’t win. Does it really matter?” The look on Nellie’s face surely makes Mickey regret her statement.
“How can you say that?” Nellie asks, beginning what I predict to be the tantrum of all tantrums. Whenever her voice raises ten octaves, I know she’s about to throw a fit. “This is very important to me. And, it’s good for our social status,” she says, giving Mickey the evil eye.
“Okay, whatever. Slow your role and bring it down a notch,” Mickey says, taking a bite out of her lukewarm burger. “All I meant was you shouldn’t be disappointed if you don’t win.”
“That’s just the type of negative thinking I don’t need. And besides, I wouldn’t be worried about our social status if Jayd had come to Byron’s party with us as planned,” Nellie says, bringing up old news.
“Why are you dragging me into this,” I say as I get up from the bench where we’re seated to throw away my chili fires. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s cold potatoes.
“Because Jayd, not showing up to Byron’s party wasn’t a good move. It seems like you just don’t care about your popularity anymore,” Nellie says, sounding truly concerned. “Yes, it helps you’re dating Jeremy. But, he’s not concerned with popularity at all and that’s okay for him. He’s a rich White boy. You, on the other hand, need to think more seriously about your reputation.” Both Mickey and I look at Nellie like she’s lost her damned mind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mickey says, finishing off the last of her fries. To be as skinny as she is, the girl can out eat all of us combined.
“I’m talking about me winning. It doesn’t help my campaign if I hang out with someone whose reputation is taking a turn for the worst.”
“What the hell?” I exclaim, almost choking on my Coke. “My reputation is just fine, contrary to popular belief. And besides, if it weren’t for your affiliation with me you wouldn’t have been nominated in the first place,” I say, checking my uppity friend. Just then, Misty, KJ, and Shae return from the cafeteria to their usual post at the table across from our bench.
“Hey y’all,” KJ says, smiling at me like he’s just won something special.
“Hey KJ,” Nellie says. Mickey and I are still in a state of shock over Nellie’s growing head.
“I don’t even need to ask who y’all voted for, do I?” Nellie says, hot on her campaign trail. She’s taking this princess thing a little too seriously. But, I guess Seth had it right this morning. Nellie does have just enough bitch in her to make it to the top.
“Of course we voted for you, Nellie. I made sure everyone in South Central did,” KJ says, unwrapping his sub sandwich while Misty sits next to him, holding his Snapple in her hand. This girl’s so sprung on him I’m almost embarrassed for her.
“Yeah. We Black folks stick together, ain’t that right Mickey,” Shae says, obviously trying to say something to me without directly saying it.
“Don’t ask me. I couldn’t care less about all this homecoming shit. Although I am going to the dance.” Now, that’s a shocker. Last year her man was on lockdown in county jail and Mickey didn’t attend any school functions. But, this year is different I guess.
“And, was that supposed to mean something to me Shae?” I ask. I don’t really want to confront her, but I can’t let her get away with that little comment of hers. How come she thinks I’m such a sell-out? Black folks get on my nerves with that mess.
“Not at all,” Shae says, smiling. “I’m just saying if there’s a Black name on the ballot, you know we’re going to pick it because that’s how we get down over here.” Yeah broad, clean it up why don’t you. Frankly, I’ve had enough of her and Nellie. Besides, I can’t stand to watch Misty practically feed KJ for another second. I wonder what my man is up to. Maybe I can catch up with him on my way to drama class.
“Well, as lovely as this little chat has been, I’ve got to roll,” I say, grabbing my backpack from the ground before getting up to leave.
“Can’t keep the White boy waiting, huh,” Misty says.
“Better than bein
g someone’s maidservant,” I snap back at her before saying bye to my girls and heading away from the quad and down the hill. “I’ll catch up with y’all after school,” I say to Nellie and Mickey, ignoring Misty’s evil glare and KJ’s intense eyes.
“Jayd, I’ll walk with you,” Nellie says, hurriedly picking up her bag and tossing the rest of her chicken strips into the trash can before following me. It’s not like her to leave Mickey, so this must be good. “I’ll see y’all in class,” she says to Mickey and everyone else, since they all have fifth period together.
“Jayd, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings about the whole reputation thing,” she says. “I just never imagined I could get nominated at this school for anything,” she says, looping her arm into mine, forcing me to listen. Honestly, I don’t want her to win if this is what’s going to happen to her. She’s already enough to deal with. Becoming princess will just make her ass even more uptight and stuck up.
“I know. And, for the record, I couldn’t care less about what people up here think of me,” I say, not letting her completely off the hook while letting her know we’re still cool.
“I know. And you’re right. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been nominated. So, thank you, girl. This means so much to me,” she says, returning to her princess dream. “I can’t wait until the nominees are announced tomorrow. I just know I’m going to win.” For Nellie’s sake, I hope if she does, Matt, Seth and Chance are going to be right there for her. Because, folk won’t be happy with her nomination and when the shit hits the fan, I don’t know what she’s going to do. She’s never had to face any drama of her own up here. And, if my dream predicted correctly, they’ll be plenty to go around.
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Courtesy of the DRAMA HIGH series
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