Boss

by Tracy Brown

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  He smiled at her. “Why didn’t you just come over to me in class and tell me you needed help?”

  She hated hearing that. She wanted to dismiss him and say that she didn’t need help, even though she desperately did. Troy was an asshole. One of those students who was a prodigy and wanted everybody to know it. Every day in class, he boisterously called out the answers with ease while Sydney struggled on the first step of an equation. Their classmates seemed enamored by him. Even the professor laughed at his antics and encouraged the rest of the class to express as much enthusiasm as Troy did. Sydney was competitive and in her other classes she excelled. But math was her Achilles’ heel. And this smug asshole reminded her by answering every question correctly every Tuesday and Thursday when their math class met.

  “I think I can find somebody who’s … maybe a little—” Sydney struggled to find a word that wouldn’t insult Troy.

  “Cheaper?” he offered. “I won’t charge you.” He knew that most of the other students weren’t as fortunate as him. “I know your money’s probably tight. No biggie.”

  Sydney was offended now. Sensitive about the fact that her father was in jail, she took pride in the fact that her mother had managed to hold the family down single-handedly in his absence. How dare this nigga assume that she was in need of his philanthropy? “I’m not broke.” She said it harder than she meant to.

  Troy’s smile faded. “I never said you were.”

  She scowled at him, the expression on her face rich with distaste. “I need somebody who’s patient,” she said. “You’re too … I don’t know if I can stand your personality honestly. And if you—”

  “You want me to tutor you or not?” Troy interrupted. Now he was offended. The smile he had been wearing was long gone now.

  She sucked her teeth. “Watch how you talk to me,” she warned him. “Don’t get slapped.”

  Troy laughed at the thought of that. “You know better,” he said. His smile broadened as he stroked his face conceitedly. “Why would you want to slap a face like this?”

  She glared at him, but reluctantly admitted to herself that he was cute even though she still didn’t like him. Thick eyebrows accented his deep brown eyes, his blemish-free skin was like smooth chocolate pudding, and he was clean-shaven with a perfectly lined-up fade. She fought the smile that threatened to burst forth, forcing her face into a scowl instead.

  He continued. “I’m here minding my business over by the bulletin board on my way back to my room and I see your cry for help. I come over here offering my services, free of charge. Answering your bulletin. And you insult me?”

  She tried not to laugh. What a pompous prick. “I’m not insulting you. Just stating the obvious. You think your shit don’t stink. Just admit it.”

  A slow smile crept across his face. He loved a challenge. “My shit stinks a lot, actually. But I get your point.”

  She couldn’t battle her smile anymore.

  “Okay,” Troy said. “Maybe I joke around a lot.”

  Sydney nodded.

  “But you’ll pass the class.” He adjusted his backpack. “Guaranteed.”

  She needed to pass. Her financial aid depended on it. Despite her mother’s incredible ability to finance a comfortable lifestyle for them, she knew that Howard was expensive. Tuition without grants and financial aid could cripple a family. She wanted to achieve this degree on her own merit and that meant maintaining an excellent GPA to keep the cash rolling in.

  “Why do you want to help me for free? We’ve never even had a conversation.” She knew his type. He was handsome and he knew it. He took full advantage of his role as the freshman Casanova. She had taken note of his preference for the Beyoncé look-alikes around Howard. The girls with lighter skin, exotic eyes, and long hair. The ones who put makeup on and spent hours on their hair. Girls like her mother. Sydney was nothing like that. And until today, she’d doubted that Troy had ever even noticed her.

  “You’re Keisha’s friend, right?” Troy asked.

  Of course! That explains it, Sydney thought. Keisha was her roommate with a body like a Coke bottle. She was certainly Troy’s presumed type. “Yes,” she said, smiling triumphantly. She’d been right about him all along. Certainly he wanted to tutor her to get close to Keisha.

  Troy nodded, too. “She’s going out with my boy Daryl.”

  Sydney frowned. “D-Bo?” That was the only name Sydney ever heard nowadays. Keisha talked about him all the time. Sydney had met the guy a few times. But she wasn’t at all impressed by what she saw. He was a jokester, a clown. Her disapproval of him was obvious and he spent little time in their room. Instead, these days Keisha was in D-Bo’s room more often than she was in class.

  “Yeah,” Troy said. “That’s what they call him. Anyway, he’s my roommate. Keisha’s in our room all the time, chilling. She said you been stressed out about some class and it’s all you ever talk about. I never thought it was math because you never say too much in class. When I see you, you’re always by yourself with your nose in a book. Then I saw your note and I remembered what Keisha said. I put two and two together and now I’m offering to help. Consider it a favor for my boy D. Maybe now Keisha will be nicer to him if I can help you pass.”

  He winked at her. What Sydney didn’t know was that Troy had watched her for weeks. Not in a scary stalker way. But with a genuine interest and perhaps even a bit of reverence at how she carried herself, how intelligent she was, how organized and focused. Class after class, he quietly observed her from the back of the room. She seemed like the type of girl who had it all together. Her need for help was the perfect way for him to spark a conversation.

  Sydney nodded slowly. She would have to check Keisha for speaking her business to other people. But Sydney was glad that Troy’s motives were nobler than she had first thought.

  She sighed. “Math is the one class I’m struggling in.” Her frustration was obvious. “It’s not my best subject. I’m an English major.”

  He smiled again. Nice teeth, she noted.

  “Okay. Well, I’m your guy. I can help you pass. And I’ll try not to interrupt your precious little sentences, Miss English Major.”

  Sydney stared back at him silently for a moment. “You’re in this dorm building?” she asked incredulously. Now she was beginning to question whether or not she was blind. She had moved into Drew Hall upon her arrival at Howard back in August and she was sure that she would have noticed Troy among her housemates. She always assumed that he lived in one of the other dorm buildings.

  “Yeah,” Troy said, “just transferred here. I was living off-campus before.”

  “Oh. Does your family live near here?” she asked.

  Troy shook his head, glancing at some other students passing by. “Nah.”

  Sydney waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “Oh, okay,” she said. She smelled a story there. She wondered what it was. “Welcome to Drew Hall.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled as he tucked his flyer into the back pocket of his jeans. “You going to the party tonight?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Troy nodded. “Not the partying type?”

  Sydney shook her head. “Not really. I want to stay focused on the real reason I’m here.” She gestured at the books in her hands.

  “No doubt.” Troy got jostled a little by the crowd around them. “I’m in room one-oh-four. Let me know when you want to get started.” He waved at her and then waded into the crowd.

  Sydney watched him go, smiling still. “Jesus,” she whispered under her breath. Despite her reservations about the guy, it was hard to ignore the fact that he was fine.

  When she got back to her room, her roommate Keisha was standing at the foot of her bed, staring at numerous outfits laid out across it.

  “Hey, girl,” Keisha greeted Sydney. “Help me decide what to wear to the party tonight. I have to look good!”

  Sydney tossed her books on her bed. “
Why were you talking to D-Bo and his roommate about me the other night?” She plopped down on her bed and glared at her friend.

  Keisha looked guilty. She hadn’t expected the guys to rat her out. She had only been venting about Sydney’s whining and how it was getting on her nerves. “Sorry, girl. I was just worried about you.”

  Sydney sucked her teeth. “Worried for what? You make it sound like I was gonna slit my wrists or something.”

  Keisha laughed. “Well, shit, you sounded like you might! You were practically in tears about the possibility of losing your financial aid. You couldn’t talk about nothing else!”

  Sydney shook her head, though she knew it was true. She had been obsessing over the issue for days. “Do me a favor, please? Don’t talk about me to D-Bo or any of his nosy friends from now on.”

  Keisha nodded. “I won’t. Don’t be mad.” She made a mental note to slap the shit out of D-Bo and Troy when she saw them later.

  Sydney stared at her, letting her squirm a little. “I’m not mad,” she admitted at last. “Not this time.”

  Keisha smiled and headed for her closet.

  “Don’t you think Troy is cute?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Sydney pictured him in her mind—the way his lips moved when he spoke; his smooth chocolate skin. “He’s cute.”

  “He’s arrogant, though,” Keisha said. “I kinda like it.”

  Sydney frowned slightly. “Sounds like you like him as much as you like D-Bo.”

  Keisha turned around. “Maybe I do.” She shrugged. “I met D-Bo first. We hit it off and I really do like him. But then I met Troy and I was like…” Keisha’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “If I would have met him first, I wouldn’t even have looked twice at D-Bo.”

  Sydney watched Keisha frantically searching the floor of her closet on her hands and knees for the match to the black boot in her left hand. Keisha had a body like an hourglass with a pretty face and dimpled smile to match. She turned heads wherever she went. Sydney wondered whether Troy wanted to tutor her as a favor to D-Bo after all. Maybe it was actually a way for him to get closer to Keisha.

  “Are you going to the homecoming party tonight?” Keisha called out, her voice muffled by the contents of the closet. Finally exasperated by her fruitless search, Keisha sat back on her heels and narrowed her eyes at Sydney. “Girl, you better start enjoying the fact that we are in the best years of our lives!”

  Sydney rolled her eyes and lay back on her bed. She knew that Keisha was about to launch into one of her tirades about being free, independent, and away from home.

  “No parents, no curfews, no stumbling in late and trying not to wake anyone. We are free, Sydney! Miles away from home with a gang of rappers descending on our little college town in search of a good time.” Keisha practically glowed at the thought of it all. “We’ve been here for almost three months and you never go to any of the parties. All you do is sit in this room with your nose in a book. There’s a whole lot of fun to be had out there, Z. You’re missing all of it.”

  Sydney stared at the ceiling. It was true. She preferred the solitude of her dorm room whenever Keisha was out having fun. She didn’t consider herself a loner. But unlike Keisha, Sydney didn’t need crowds, music, or alcohol to have a good time. Still, as she thought about the cutie Troy from math class, she thought she might make an exception just this once. She looked at Keisha. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll go with you tonight.”

  Keisha jumped up and down with excitement. “Yay! Now get up and figure out what you’re wearing. If you’re going with me, you have to look good!” She playfully tossed a pillow at Sydney, hitting her in the head.

  Sydney tossed the pillow back at her, got up, and headed for her closet in search of the perfect look. She saw Keisha pick out a different pair of boots, and a pair of Guess jeans with a tight matching T-shirt. Sydney sorted through her clothes. She wanted to look nice, but she didn’t have anything sexy to put on. Day to day, she opted more for comfort than sex appeal. Unlike many of her peers, Sydney’s mind was more focused on her future career than on attracting the horny guys that littered the college campus.

  Her mother, Grandma Bonnie, and Aunt Pat had been three matriarchs in a family void of male role models. Her grandfather had passed away from a heart attack when Sydney was an infant. Aunt Pat had never married and her daughter Destiny’s father had never been in the picture. And Sydney’s own father had been incarcerated since Sydney and her older brother, Malik, were three and eight years old. Against the backdrop of New York’s gritty streets, Sydney, Destiny, and Malik grew into adulthood, shielded from dangers seen and unseen by the women who loved them. When their grandmother died the summer before Sydney entered college, it had been a devastating blow to the family. Grandma had been the glue that kept it all together. In her absence, a noticeable void had been left. Now Sydney felt a need to do her best academically in order to honor her grandmother’s memory.

  While Sydney sifted through her closet, Keisha watched her. She smiled, wondering what her mousy little roommate would wear now that she was finally going to take a stab at having a social life.

  Sydney and Keisha took the Metro to the homecoming party and the train was packed with other young people en route. Sydney noticed that many of the girls were dressed provocatively. Lots of makeup, perfume, tight clothes, and sex appeal. She had second thoughts about her outfit, but quickly shrugged it off. This was who she was. Aunt Pat, who often served as Sydney’s own personal motivator and pep talker, had driven the message home clearly that she never needed to compete with anyone else.

  Aunt Pat was confident, laid-back, and down-to-earth. The complete opposite of Sydney’s mother, Georgi. As little girls, they had never been close. Sydney’s mother was the beauty of the pair or at least the superficial definition of beauty that men seemed to gravitate toward. Sydney’s mom had the winning combination of a big ass, long hair, and a tiny waist. Her face was also lovely. But with a closer look and a little conversation, most people quickly surmised that she was shallow, self-absorbed, and utterly neurotic about her looks. Already beautiful, she had spent thousands of dollars a month on beauty treatments alone. She always wanted diamonds and designer clothes. Georgi Scott used to get her hair and nails done every week and was always dressed to impress, stepping out of the newest whip on the arm of the newest hustler. At least, that had been the case in her heyday.

  Aunt Pat, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about what anyone thought. Of the sisters, Pat had been closer to their mother, Bonnie. While Georgi was out painting the town on the arm of Sydney’s father, Pat was at home, gleaning wisdom from their mother. Learning that the silent one is usually the most powerful one. That she didn’t always have to talk loud and act raunchy to stand out. Pat was far more popular in their social circle than her sister was. Everybody gravitated toward her because she was funny and her biting wit was often lost on the less intelligent among them. But the smart ones got the jokes and they loved her for it. Pat was the life of the party.

  Aunt Pat often reminded Sydney that whatever she felt about herself on the inside would reflect outwardly to others. Sydney felt good about the way she looked tonight, even if she was the only female with most of her body covered. She held her head high as they neared the venue.

  HOMECOMING

  The club was packed. Music and laughter filled the space, as the DJ moved the crowd. The dance floor was full and the energy was high. Keisha was greeted constantly by people she knew. Smiling broadly, she was in her element as she mingled with her friends. Sydney wasn’t surprised that only fifteen minutes after they arrived, Keisha had disappeared into the crowd. Sydney didn’t mind. She stood near a wall on one side of the room and rocked to the beat of “Yo (Excuse Me Miss)” by Chris Brown.

  “Hey,” she heard a voice, but didn’t see anyone familiar as she looked around those closest to her in the crowd. “Sydney,” the voice came again. Then she spotted him. Troy sat comfortably on one of the few white leat
her seats lining the walls of the club. He had a white T-shirt on, black jeans, and Jordans. As simply as he was dressed, he still managed to look better than all of the other guys present. Sydney couldn’t help but smile. She walked over to where he was and he moved over so that she could sit down beside him. The girl who had been seated beside him seemed annoyed that she was expected to move aside for Sydney. But Troy leaned over to her and with a discreet yet sultry voice said, “Excuse me, please, sweetheart.”

  The girl looked at him and very reluctantly slid aside to let Sydney sit between them. Sydney tried hard not to laugh, but it wasn’t easy. Troy grinned, too, as she squeezed in next to him.

  “Hey,” he said again. “You look nice.”

  Sydney smiled and wondered why her pulse was racing. “Thanks.” She looked around at all the people. “It’s packed in here tonight.”

  Troy nodded. “I just saw Daryl and Keisha at the bar. They’re having a good time.” He looked around at the partyers milling about. “You having a good time?”

  Sydney nodded. “This is my first time at a party since I came here. I usually go to—”

  “Yo, Will!” Troy called out to one of his friends across the room. Troy’s friend hollered back and headed their way. Before she knew it, Will was standing there, holding an animated conversation with Troy as if Sydney was invisible.

  Sydney caught the girl next to her chuckling at how Troy had cut her off. It made her angry. She slid off the banquette and walked off, calling out to Troy over her shoulder, “I’ll see you later.” She heard him say something as she melted into the crowd, but she didn’t care. She chastised herself for being distracted by his good looks. Troy was clearly a jerk. She knew his type. One of those rare students who was both a cool kid and a geek, smart enough to excel academically and savvy enough to make it look enviable. Add arrogance and a brusque demeanor to the mix and you had Troy.

  “Why’d you walk off like that?” he asked as he came up behind her.