by Paula Chase
Uncertainty shadowed his face. The number of times he’d come to the house drunk or high doing and saying stupid stuff were too many to count. Most times Nona either sent him away or off to his room to sleep it off. He hardly ever remembered the next day. He’d gotten used to getting the cold shoulder for a few days and was an expert at apologizing and promising to never do whatever he’d done again.
Nona always forgave. Tai never did.
“If I tell Nona, she probably kick you out for good,” Tai warned. She stepped back as he stood up.
“Don’t be saying no stuff like that, Metai.” His finger wagged in her face. “Playing your little games with Momma to stay on her good side one thing. But don’t be telling lies like this.”
Tai was unflinching. “It’s not a lie.” She waited on him to smack her and make good on the threat he made every time they got into it. If that was what it cost, she would take it. It would force her to tell Nona everything and explain what would make him mad enough to hit her. She wished on it, daring him with her eyes. She owed it to Bean. “It’s not a lie,” she croaked again. When she realized he wasn’t going to strike, she shot the last bullet. “If you think I’m lying, tell on me. Tell Nona I’m lying.”
His eyes sliced her but he sat back down on the sofa, jaw and hands clenched.
The air went out of Tai. She walked away on spaghetti legs and sat on the front stoop, shaking.
Chapter
21
The crew was spread out. They sat on the wall outside the rec center, giddy with anxiety.
Roland and Chris were freestyling. One would spit a verse, then the other. They had rhymes for days. It was like if they stopped they’d have to talk about it some more. Who was in? Who was out? They hadn’t talked about anything else the last two days. Group chats. Side chats. Text messages. The torture was in the silence. Especially for Mila.
She hated that she already knew. She’d almost told Chrissy because it had been painful to watch her new friend’s confidence dwindle to nothing. Mila sat by silently as she obsessed over every step she’d taken, every answer she’d given or hadn’t given wanting to assure her, “If I made it, you had to make it.” But she’d been too afraid to trust Chrissy with the secret. Secrets had a way of backfiring.
Simp stationed himself next to Roland, like he could feel him slipping away. He had one leg up on the wall and a basketball cradled under his arm. He boosted Roland on, the hype man, shouting, “Yeah, son,” “That’s hot, B,” every few bars.
Mila sat between Mo and Chrissy. Her long legs stretched out like two pieces of dark licorice in her homemade jean shorts. The night before, while on the phone with Chrissy, she had decorated them with squiggles and shapes in puffy paint. Chrissy had on a similar pair covered in puffy polka dots. Their over-the-phone craft session had been successful.
Sheeda stood in front of them telling the story of a girl who auditioned as a lost ball wandering the street trying to get back home to its owner. She twirled in a circle, looked around, lost, then spun again. It was cracking them up. Sheeda was making fun of the girl, but she was good.
Mila hoped she’d made it. She hoped everyone had. She watched as Tai came up the street, in no hurry to reach them.
Her heart fluttered. Whenever she saw Tai, it felt like another showdown was waiting in the wings to pop off. Still, watching her walk up alone ate at Mila. Tai could be too much, but she wasn’t all bad. Mila knew that better than anyone.
No one else knew Tai was afraid of heights. She wouldn’t even go on the monkey bars.
No one else knew how at the end of sad movies she cried while yelling at the screen, “Why make sad movies? That’s so stupid.”
No one but Mila.
Figuring Tai would move Simp aside and go sit by Roland, she put her attention back on Sheeda and her story.
“Did y’all look at the list without me?” Tai asked, plunking down beside her.
Mila went along with the fragile peace, praying it wasn’t a trap. “They haven’t posted it yet.”
Roland spit his last rhyme. He put his hand out and Chris gripped it, then pounded him on the back. “Your verses are beast, son.”
“Yours, too,” Chris said. “Shoot, maybe you should have auditioned for vocal art.”
Roland grinned. “Ay, I could be that double threat.” He looked down the line at Tai. “What took you so long?”
“I had to clean my bathroom before I left. I don’t need hear Nona’s mouth,” Tai said. There was grumbling assent. Who hadn’t been held up having to do a last-minute chore or listen to a final instruction?
Noelle came around the corner. Her short pixie was curly. She had on a white net shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of navy blue linen shorts. She looked odd without dance clothes on. A large piece of yellow construction paper was limp in her hand. She shook it, trying to keep it upright. Spying the group, she walked right over. “I trust everyone’s here waiting for this?” She rattled the paper at them. “I love the enthusiasm.”
“Oh my God, I’m not ready,” Sheeda squealed. She put her hand over her chest.
“I am,” Mo said.
“Good luck to everyone,” Noelle said, looking each of them in the eye.
Mila picked at a loose piece of paint on her shorts. If she looked at Mademoiselle, everyone would know she already knew. She didn’t breathe again until her dance teacher stepped out of the circle and taped the paper to the rec center door. Once Noelle disappeared inside the rec, Chris was the first one up. “Come on, let’s do this.”
The group walked in a cluster. They stopped dead center of the door. Simp lagged behind. He dribbled the ball, slow, letting long seconds build before he let it hit the ground again. The pinging of the ball was jarring. But its rhythm helped Mila focus.
They all stared at the six pieces of white paper glued to the yellow board. The names went on and on.
“Man, how do you read the list?” Roland shouted, confused.
Mo figured it out first. “It’s in alphabetical order but all the disciplines are separate.” She stepped forward and ran her finger down the first list. “This one is for drama.”
Sheeda slapped her hands across her eyes. “I can’t look.”
Mo’s finger slid, then stopped.
“Is that my name?” Sheeda asked, peeking.
Mo blew out a breath. “You were wait-listed, Sheeda.”
Sheeda peered up at the list. “What does that mean?”
“It means if somebody else who made it decides not to do it, then you’re in,” Chrissy said, patting Sheeda’s shoulder.
“So I can still maybe make it?” Sheeda asked. Her eyes searched around the cluster.
“What number on the list is she?” Chris asked.
Mo, happy in the role as announcer, checked. “It has a number three next to it.”
“So you need somebody to drop out and then wait list people one and two have to not want to do it, either,” Chris explained. “Or three people have to drop it. Either way, for real, it can happen.”
“I mean that’s better than not making it at all, right?” Sheeda asked.
There was chorus of “Yeah” and “True.”
Mo was already back on the list. “The music list is next,” she said, without turning around. Her finger scanned a small list, then dropped down to a longer list. “Oh my God. Okay. Rollie and Chris, both of y’all in.”
They gave each other a pound. Roland’s entire face was a smile.
“Ay, yo, I meet y’all on the court,” Simp said. He walked away, slamming the ball into the ground.
“Yo, we catch up in a minute,” Roland called out.
Simp gave him a thumbs-up without looking back.
“Is he okay?” Chrissy asked.
Roland watched him go. He seemed like he was wondering the same thing himself, then he affirmed, “Yeah, he good.” Him and Chris gripped hands once more, congratulating each other.
Sheeda shushed them. “Come on, Mo. G
et to dance.”
“I’m trying to,” Mo said. Her neck strained, trying to read every list fast. Her eyes skimmed all the way down then went back up. She slowed herself down and started over.
“Well?” Tai asked.
Mila couldn’t help it. She snaked her arm around Tai’s and held on. It felt like the world was going to collapse, no matter the outcome. She wanted to run but her feet were cemented into the sidewalk. She hissed in utter relief when Tai’s arm held on.
“I feel sick,” Mila whispered.
“Me, too,” Tai whispered back. Suddenly she shouted, “Mo, wait.”
Mo scowled. “But I found—”
“I didn’t make it,” Tai blurted.
“Aw man, that’s messed up,” Roland muttered.
The crew clustered around Tai.
Tai’s arm trembled. Mila squeezed gently and it calmed.
“I guess Noelle thought I’d flip or something if she didn’t tell me first,” Tai said with a humorless laugh. “So she let me know I didn’t make it. I’m on the wait list, too.”
“Did she say where on the wait list?” Chris asked, glancing over his shoulder at the list.
Tai put up a finger.
“One is good,” Sheeda said. “Right, Chris?”
“One is real good,” he agreed. “People always trying out and then dropping out of these programs. If you one, I think you definitely in. Watch.”
“Why would they audition if they not gonna actually do it?” Mo asked.
“Look y’all, don’t be feeling sorry for me or try and boost me up,” Tai said gruffly, then added in a softer voice, “No shade. But I’ve known since last night. I’m not cool with it, but I’m not tripping, either.”
“Would you accept it if somebody dropped?” Chrissy asked, peering at her.
Tai’s mouth pursed in thought.
“Man, yeah, she’d take it,” Roland said.
Mo laughed. “Well, of course she gon’ say yes now.”
Tai swiped at her. “Dang, Mo. Don’t be letting out my game.”
“Would you, though?” Sheeda asked. “I mean, I know I would.”
“I would,” Tai admitted, with a little head shrug.
“Cool. People have until the second of September to drop. You good,” Roland said, all confidence. “Go ’head, Mo. Finish up. I know Chrissy ready kirk not knowing.”
Chrissy’s laugh was high and nervous. “I am, sort of.”
“I already saw.” Mo grinned. “Me, Chrissy, and Bean got in.” She touched Tai’s shoulder, eyes sad. “Sorry, Tai. I was still looking for your name when you told me to stop. I sort of had already figured you hadn’t made it ’cause I went through the J’s twice.”
“It’s good,” Tai said quietly.
“This gonna be crazy, y’all. I’m telling you,” Roland said. He fiddled with his hat, crushing the lid gently. “Like we ready to be on some performing arts stuff when school start.”
“Can y’all send up a prayer for me and Tai, though . . . that we make it?” Sheeda asked. “I mean for-real prayers. Not just saying you will.”
Mila rubbed her back. “We will.”
“Let’s head to the court for a while,” Roland suggested.
The herd began to move. Mila stayed rooted.
“What’s wrong?” Tai asked, stopping.
It took a few seconds before their friends realized they’d stopped. “What y’all doing?” Mo yelled back at them.
“Tai can have my spot,” Mila said. She hadn’t intended to say it in front of the group, but it was out.
“I don’t want your spot, Bean,” Tai said. “I told you I’m fine. Look, if I make it into TAG, cool, but what I didn’t say was that H3 want me to come dance with them.”
Mila’s eyes widened. “Tai, they do? That’s so good.”
Tai smiled shyly. It looked funny on her, but Mila couldn’t help smiling with her. She wasn’t sure what to do with the new information. H3 was perfect for Tai. It was better than TAG, really.
The crew edged closer but stopped short of rejoining the girls, like they knew whatever was happening was between her and Tai. Mila pushed her shades to the top of her head. She turned her face away from the sun and looked Tai dead-on.
“My dad said I could go to the Woods if I want. I mean for high school.” It hurt her face to keep smiling, but she glued it on as Tai’s mouth popped open into a tiny O. “All you need to get into TAG is for one person to drop out. So maybe that’s how it should be anyway. You take my spot.”
Mo was beside them in seconds. “Mila, no. Like Chris said, other people probably drop out. Y’all can both be in it.” She looked from Tai to Mila, apologizing with her eyes to one and pleading with the other. “Just wait till the second and see.”
No one else joined Mo’s campaign.
Tai crossed her arms. “I’ll be all right.” There was a crack in her voice then it was gone, replaced with the bossiness Mila knew well. “You’d be crazy not to do TAG. That’s all you. Just do it.”
Mila looked over Mo’s head at the curious crew. “Can y’all give me and Tai a minute, please? We’ll catch up.” Mo started to object. Mila shook her head at her. “We be right behind y’all, Mo.”
Mila waited until they were around the corner and out of sight. She sat on the ledge. Tai leaned against the wall, shoulders sagging. Before Mila could say anything, Tai took off her sunglasses and clipped them onto her T-shirt. Her eyes were red rimmed.
“You said you were okay with not getting into TAG, but it look like you’ve been crying,” Mila said.
Tai’s nod was slow and heavy. “It wasn’t about TAG, though.”
Mila leaned in. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a best friend anymore,” Tai said, then burst into tears.
Voices carried from the court. Otherwise the area around the rec was quiet.
Mila wished she hadn’t sent the crew away. Then again, she knew Tai would have never cried in front of anyone. Whether they were beefing or not, there were still some things that were just between them. She touched Tai on the shoulder. As complicated as things always seemed, they were friends. And had been forever.
Mila’s heart flooded with emotion as the memories they shared rushed over her. “Tai, we’re still friends.”
“Not like we used to be,” Tai said, chest hitching as the tears dried up.
Mila couldn’t deny that. She went back to safer ground. “You’re my girl, though, that’s why I want you to take my spot in TAG.”
“If you want to move to the Woods, just say so. Don’t—” Tai stopped, took a breath. Her eyes fixed on Mila’s. “I understand why you want to move. And I’m not mad. Not anymore.”
Mila looked past Tai at the huge yellow poster on the rec door. “Why do you think I want to move?”
Tai sniffed. “Because I don’t know how to be a good friend. Not like Chrissy.”
“I never said that,” Mila said, defensively.
“You don’t need to,” Tai snapped.
Mila shrank from the familiar anger between them. She was ready to say Take the spot and have a nice life until Tai switched gears. “I been acting real grimy lately. I’m sorry.”
Braids wriggled around Mila’s face as she shook her head. “No. If I had just told you I ran into Roland, it wouldn’t seem like I was hiding it.” Her eyes closed as she confessed. “But I was hiding it.”
“Why?” Tai asked, eyes wide.
“Because it’s like we can only be friends if I do what you want or say what you want me to say.” Mila couldn’t stop anger from edging into her voice. “I can never just be me without it being lame or stupid or crazy. And you dog me in front of everybody like you can’t wait to make fun of something I did or said.”
Tai slumped against the wall. “I just be playing,” she said.
Mila wanted to back off, but the words kept flowing. “Yeah, but it hurts my feelings. And I know if I had told you I saw Roland, you would have gotten mad that I
saw him. Even though I didn’t have nothing to do with him being in the Woods, you would have made it my fault somehow.” She looked off past Tai, unable to meet her gaze. “Then sometimes it feels like you blame me for what happened that day in the backyard. Do you think I wanted him to do it? Is that why you’ve been so mad?”
“Bean, no,” Tai exclaimed. She wiped at fat tears dropping, but replacements arrived immediately. Her head hung. Her voice was just above a whisper. “It’s not you I’m mad at. I was never mad at you. It’s him. And I should have said something when it happened. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Mila said.
“Me, either,” Tai said eagerly. There was a pause, then, “If you want, we can tell Nona what my father did, together.”
The words sent a shock through Mila. She barely felt Tai’s fingers wrap around hers.
“I think we should tell,” Tai said.
“I . . . I don’t want to,” Mila said. She wiggled her fingers out of Tai’s. “My dad will flip. I don’t want him getting in trouble for trying to fight yours. Don’t. We shouldn’t. Just . . . just take my spot in TAG. Then next year I’ll move with my aunt and—”
The words broke off. She hung her head and began to sob.
Tai was up on the ledge, her arms around her in an instant. She peeked under Mila’s curtain of braids. “If you want to move, I’m for-real cool with that. But don’t go ’cause of my stupid father.” She swatted at a braid tickling Mila’s cheek. “I think we have to tell.”
Mila stared out into the neighborhood. Her dad saw a different Cove than she did. Everything he did was to make it a nicer place to live. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if she told him about Mr. Bryant. What people would say. What her dad might do. How it would change things. Would it make them better or worse?
“We’ll do it together,” Tai said, this time stronger than before.
Mila closed her eyes. Her temples throbbed.
Tai’s voice came from far away, almost a chant. “Together. We’ll tell Nona together.”
Chapter
22
For 106 days, 12 hours, and 10 minutes, Jamila Phillips had kept a secret. She was convinced that if Tai took her spot at TAG, she could keep the secret forever.