by Paula Chase
When she didn’t respond, Cinny’s voice came loud in her ear. “Know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” Mila said. She didn’t mean it. She heard what Cinny said and it made some sense. But it had never been this bad between her and Tai. There were good memories. Lots of them. She listened on obediently a few more minutes before begging off to get cleaned up.
In the shower she thought about Cinny’s advice. It was the same advice she always gave—don’t let Metai get to you; do you.
It was easy for Cinny to tell someone to be themselves. She never had a problem saying exactly how she felt to anyone. And, she didn’t have to live right across the street from Tai. She didn’t know how it felt to have your best friend look through you like you weren’t even there. Mila wanted to make new friends and do new things. But did it have to mean losing Tai?
The water pelted the day’s funk from her body and beat an admission out of her. She had been wrong to keep the thing about Roland from Tai, but it was dumb to beef over it. There was no way Tai could disagree with that. Could she?
Mila dressed quickly, the courage from the hot shower still steaming in her.
On the way down the hallway, she peeked her head into JJ and Jeremy’s room. It was like an explosion of two worlds. On JJ’s side were posters of NFL cheerleaders in tiny shorts and tops that barely held their breasts in. Yellowing newspaper clips from JJ’s AAU team wallpapered the areas between the posters. On Jeremy’s side were his drawings—stick people at war and play and a family pic that made them look like smiley-faced blob people.
JJ wanted his own room and had even tried to convince their dad Mila should share with Jeremy. A plan that only made sense to him. Which is exactly why he hadn’t won the argument.
Mila yelled over JJ’s ranting into his headphone.
“I’m heading out.”
His eyebrow raised. “’Scuse me? What you think, you me or something? Just dipping out. You feed Nut yet?”
“Whatever, JJ.” She walked away then stepped back. “Hey . . .” She waited until he stopped cursing out the person on the other end. “Is Mr. Bryant still out there?”
“Man, hold up. My little sister trying fug my game right now. Son, just hold up.” He sighed dramatically, paused the game, and muted his headset. His eyebrow arched higher in case she wasn’t aware he was annoyed. When she didn’t react, his lanky body relaxed. He snorted smugly. “Yeah he still out there. Why? Ms. Sophia thinking he clean? She crazy if she do.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But the other day when I was over Tai’s he came home high and just started going off because Roland and Simp were there.”
He scowled at her. “Was Ms. Sophia home while they was there?”
Mila sucked her teeth. “No. But so what? It’s just Roland and Simp.”
JJ sat up. His elbows rested on his thighs. The game controller jiggled as he lectured. “Yeah, okay, tell Daddy that.” His laugh was short and mean at the fleeting look of concern on her face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You wouldn’t. First of all, Rollie cool and all but he a dough boy.”
“JJ, stop. Roland not like that. Don’t spread rumors,” Mila said, alarmed.
Any other time hearing JJ use the term for hustlers would have made her laugh thinking about the time Jeremy had overheard their dad call Rock Jensen a dope boy and thought he’d said “dough.” He’d instantly wondered how come he’d never seen Rock selling cookies. It was the one time JJ didn’t burst his bubble to explain what it really meant. But if Roland was hustling, it wasn’t funny.
JJ’s eyebrows formed a deep V as he scolded her back. “Bean, youn know what I know. Trust, him and Simp dough boys.”
Mila’s mouth laid open. She could barely process what JJ was saying.
He snapped her out of her daze. “Second, you need stop messing with Tai anyway. Her father all messed up. And she gonna end up getting got if she don’t slow down.”
Head still reeling, she defended Tai. “Tai not like that, JJ. She just a lot of talk.”
“Puh,” he said with an eye roll. “She hung out at the court nearly every night with Sheeda all up in people’s faces including mine. Somebody gonna take her up on all she pretending to offer one day.”
His nasty snicker made Mila’s face hot. She didn’t want to think about Tai out there doing anything with any dude but definitely not with her brother. She lectured back with more force than she felt. “She all talk, JJ. You gonna end up the one with your feelings hurt if you ever try and test all that mouth she have.”
JJ leaned back in the chair, his long legs stretching out for days. “Youn need worry about me. I ain’t trying rock nobody who’s my baby sister’s friend.” He made a face like he’d tasted something sour. “On top of all that, her father straight cracked out. She cute but she ain’t worth that.” He turned his back and yelled into the headset. “Look, punk, see what I got for you.”
Mila didn’t want to believe any of it. There were definitely dough boys their age, even younger. If they were caught they didn’t get real jail time. She knew a few dudes who had gone to juvenile detention. They were older now. Some of them graduated to real jail.
JJ was tapped into what went on in their neighborhood, but it didn’t mean he was always right. She held on to that tiny hope even as she admitted to herself that he’d been right about at least half of it—Mr. Bryant was obviously high the other day. He was still using drugs.
One thing her and Tai would always have in common—drug addict parents. The only difference was Ms. Sophia kept letting her son back in the house, hoping he’d straighten up. Mila’s dad had long ago banished her mother from their home.
She had no solid memories of her mother in the house. She tried to imagine her always in and out, like Mr. Bryant, causing drama whenever she was there, and silently thanked her dad for being the way he was.
Jeremy sat on the sofa eating a bowl of cereal, flicking between five different channels, happy to have the big television to himself. The TV blared, going from commercial to cartoon mania to canned laughter in three seconds.
“Stop switching so much, Nut,” Mila chastised. “You gonna give yourself a headache.”
He munched, mouth full. “Waa-oooh-owing?”
“Over to my friend Christol’s,” she said. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Are you cooking?” he asked, hopeful.
She shook her head. “Jeremy, you’re eating now. I know this not your first bowl.”
He put up two fingers. “But I’mma be hungry in an hour.”
“Dinner is up to Daddy. See you,” she said, escaping before he could pelt her with dinner suggestions.
She stepped out into the thick air, the heat kissing her shower-cool skin. She crossed the street to Tai’s, knocked, waited, and knocked again. She leaned away as the door ripped open.
Tai stood at the door in a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair was crinkly from the shower.
“Hey,” Mila said. Hearing how loud she sounded, she started again. “Chrissy got permission to use La May to rehearse for the jazz round. Not sure when yet. But want to come?”
“Why would I?” Tai frowned.
Mila chanted in her head: Be the bigger friend. Be the bigger friend.
“Just to get out the house,” she said. She thought using the line Tai usually used on her would make her laugh. Instead, Tai went in on her.
“Oh, like I’m always telling you and you always—‘I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to,’” Tai said, mocking. “Naw, I’m good.” She leaned against the door, arms folded.
Mila pushed her frustration aside with effort. “So how long are we going to keep fighting? I mean, just let me know and then I’ll check back when it’s good.”
She’d sat on the sidelines many times as Tai had treated other people like they were a gnat she wanted to smack. And she’d always sent her apologies to them in her head. Now she was the gnat.
“Who are you anyway?” Tai’s e
yes scoured Mila’s face like she was really trying to identify her. “I don’t know no more.”
“I’m just trying to dead the drama between us, Tai.” Mila put her palms out, turned them over. “See no tricks. That’s it.”
“Okay, Bean. My bad . . . I mean Mila or Jamila, whatever you going by these days.” Tai’s little shoulder shrug was worse than a fake apology. “I get it. Good girls be having a guilty conscience, so you apologizing for the shade. Cool.”
“How is me trying to make up a bad thing, Metai? Like, what do you want me to say?” Mila asked. She held Tai’s dead-eyed gaze even though she wanted to run and never bother again. With every ounce of energy she had, Mila forced herself to stand her ground. “I didn’t throw shade, but if you thought I was the other day or whatever, I’m sorry.” She took a breath to gain control. “It’s stupid for us to keep arguing, especially over a boy.”
Tai laughed a loud “ha.” Her eyes beamed into Mila’s, not letting go. “This not even really about Rollie since it’s me he like anyway.” Her shoulders shrugged hard. “But for real, I’m tired of being the ghetto chick while you pretend to play the goodie-good bougie girl. Period. That act been old.”
For as long as Mila could remember, she and Tai had been connected like some Siamese twin experiment gone bad. And all summer, she had finally felt like they’d been separated enough so she could think her own thoughts. Walking out of Tai’s face should have been easy. Yet all Mila wanted to do was apologize, for everything—for not telling her about talking to Roland, for not being able to get that day out of her head, for the sun being yellow if that would just end it.
Because the thought of them living across the street from each other and never uttering another word set a new flock of moths loose in her belly. She couldn’t do it. They couldn’t be enemies. Even if it meant begging Tai to let this go and go back to how they had always been. The apology was on the tip of her tongue, then Tai’s rant changed everything.
“What’s messed up is, you keep wanting everybody to think you so above it. Like you don’t have no secrets.”
“I should have told you I saw Rollie this summer. I just—” Mila said before Tai cut her off.
“Oh my God, please. If you wanted to tell me, you would have.” The smirk on her face took Mila’s breath away. She felt gut-punched as Tai added, “Girl, bye.”
Mila’s will to fight for their friendship was in the wind, instantly, leaving her deflated.
She stumbled home with the finality of Tai’s last words whispering in her ears, for hours, forcing her to lie about having cramps—the only way in a house full of boys that ever got her time to herself.
Her and Tai were officially no longer friends. She laid in bed, draped in two big blankets, shivering, thinking about it until sleep took mercy on her and quieted her mind.
Chapter
14
Nona was big on breakfast.
Tai usually liked their mandatory morning meal. But this time Nona was on one, going on and on. It was like Nona sat and took notes on everything, even stuff Tai didn’t think she was paying attention to. Today it was how come Mila hadn’t been around?
Tai would have bet her life that normally her answer, “I don’t know, Nona, you know Mila half nerd always wanting be by herself,” would have shut down any more questions. But no, Nona put her coffee cup down and folded her arms. Her brown eyes pierced Tai’s long enough to make her squirm. When Tai offered no more explanation, Nona’s lips pressed together, then opened with a small pop as she sighed.
All Tai could think was, Here we go. She stared into her half-eaten bowl of cereal as Nona asked, “What’s going on, Metai?” like she’d already decided something was wrong and Tai was at fault.
Tai pushed the soggy bowl of cereal back and made the mistake of folding her own arms and glaring back.
Nona was up, like a whip, sending her chair skittering back a few inches. She pulled herself up to her full five feet and got that look on her face that threatened a beating that never came but always promised to.
“Unah, don’t you dare look at me like you trying to challenge me, girl. I had to watch your sad butt walk around this house grumbling like you ain’t have no other friends around here while Bean was gone. Now she back home and y’all barely seen each other . . . what’s up?”
Tai’s arms dropped limp to her side fast. She wanted to come clean. To ask Nona why people changed? And, the one question that had really been on her mind the last few days, how could people change? Because a part of her wanted to be whatever kind of friend Bean seemed to be looking for.
It hurt to admit that she wasn’t a good enough friend anymore. Bean had never really fit in, in their hood, always so quiet in the middle of how loud the Cove was. But now it was like Bean finally realized that. Worse, this sudden knowledge seemed like it was a light beaming on every flaw Tai had.
Tai knew she wasn’t perfect. Yeah, she could be bossy. But in the Cove it was boss or be bossed.
She was seconds from confessing it all to Nona until her grandmother turned around and said, “What did you do, Metai? Is Bean mad at you because you finally hurt her feelings enough to make her stand up for herself?”
Tai’s mouth pinched into a stubborn pout. If Nona was gonna assume, there was no point in going into the whole mess.
Nona was by her chair in two steps, her hands around Tai’s shoulder, rubbing.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, baby girl.” She squatted easily beside Tai’s chair. “I know you can’t help always being so . . . tough on the outside. But I see how you always beaugard Jamila. Even the best of friends gotta learn when enough is enough, Metai. I thought maybe y’all being apart all summer would make you appreciate how good a friend she is and help you tone it down a little.”
“Why you assume I did something, Nona?” Tai asked, finally letting tears flow hot and hard.
Nona nodded. “You’re right. That was wrong of me.” She pushed herself up and pulled her chair over so she was at Tai’s side. The smell of her soap mingled between them, making Tai want to lie in her arms, but she stayed upright rigid. Angry at Nona, Bean, and herself.
“Do you want to share what happened?” Nona asked. “Because I’m not stupid. Something not right.”
“I really don’t feel like talking about it,” Tai said. She wiped her face and dared folding her arms again. “Me and Bean fine.” Her sigh was heavy. “I mean, me and Jamila fine. That’s what she want to be called now.”
Seeing Tai’s side eye at her chuckling, Nona stroked her hair in apology. “What’s so wrong with her growing out of a nickname, Metai? Y’all be in high school soon.”
“Nothing,” Tai said. She wasn’t in the mood to explain it all. “Like I said, we fine. She just all into this new girl, Christol. I’m not feeling the girl so—” She shrugged with force. “We not chilling as much. That’s all.”
Tai’s phone chimed four times, her tone for Mini Chat with Sheeda, Bean, and Mo. “That’s her now.” Her heart leaped, hopeful. “See. We cool. Can I go?”
Nona eyed the phone. A smile lurked behind her doubt that everything was suddenly good. Tai forced it all the way out by shining the phone screen at Nona. The words My girls ran across the bar alerting her she had a message.
“Go ahead.” Nona’s head shook. “I swear I’m too old to be dealing with this kind of drama.”
Tai couldn’t resist teasing. “So next time I call you old, don’t get mad then.”
Nona’s laugh was rich in the quiet morning. “Your fast butt make me feel old.” She wiggled her hips. “But make no mistake, Nona fit and forty.”
“Forty-five,” Tai corrected before racing away from the towel Nona swatted at her.
Nona switched sides about her age every other day. Either she was too old to be doing this or that or she was fussing about not being old enough to be doing this or that. It depended on the situation, but both declarations usually came whenever she had to step in and be the mot
her and grandmother for Tai.
Tai raced up the stairs, leaving her grandmother muttering good-naturedly about having to clear up the dishes. The phone sounded again and again as others jumped into the chat. She sailed onto her bed, sat cross-legged, and scrolled the messages fast, looking to see what Bean had said. But it was only Mo and Sheeda.
Mo’Betta: 2nd day of auditions leggo!!! im siced and don’t care who know it especially since we on jazz and I can shake my lololol
She-da-Man: the drama audition was pretty cool. Im tired as shankypook. Wuz up all nite memorizing that spoken word thing I did at church 2 years ago. I think I was saying it in my sleep. Lolz
Mo’Betta: omg I remember dat. U went HAM on that Maya Angelou and the church lost they minds. I had almost forgot
She-da-Man: yeah like itz the only thing I could get together. I didn’t know we was supposed to prepare a piece. Nervous!! Where everybody at? Hello Mila? Umm Tai?
Mo’Betta: u gon tear it up. U got today and long as u don’t go first u got time to keep rehearsing tomorrow. Idk where these chicks at. But I hope they done made up by now lololol
At seeing her name, Tai reluctantly entered the fray.
DatGirlTai: for yall information if we just talking bout TAG I’m ready be out.
She-da-Man: u so common. Always shading somebodys shine. Lolz Mo said ur audition went good yesterday. Whut u scurred bro?
A grin wormed its way across Tai’s face. If Mo thought Tai did good, that had to mean something. She wasn’t about to let on she cared, though.
DatGirlTai: Ain’t nobody scared. just not all pressed like yall. #Noshade
Mo’Betta: y put urself through it though for real?
She-da-Man: cuz rollie got that azz open and she trying keep her eye on him b4 one of these county girls get him
Tai laughed out loud. Sheeda was closer to the truth than she probably knew.