Download Drama

by Celeste O. Norfleet

  “Taj called me and left a message.”

  “Taj,” Diamond says.

  “Yeah, wait, there’s more.”

  “What the hell does she want calling you?” Jalisa adds.

  “She really likes our dancing and she’s got a dance job for us. She wants us in her next video. Rehearsals are Monday at five o’clock. Are you up for it?”

  Jalisa’s jaw drops and Diamond starts laughing. See, this is why I like doing video calls. I get to see their reactions instantly. They’re totally shocked.

  “Seriously,” Jalisa finally says, “is she for real, no way.”

  “Yeah, she’s very serious,” I say.

  Diamond laughs again. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe her. She actually asked you something like that. What a skank. Does she really expect us to do this after all the shit she did to you at the party?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask seriously with no clue here.

  “What, are you kidding me? She treated you like you were nothing. If you had turned your back for half a second she would have been all up on top of Terrence in a hot minute,” Jalisa says.

  “I’m serious, she is such a bitch,” Diamond says.

  So right now they’re seriously going off on Taj and I’m seriously not getting it. Yes, she’s a bitch, and yes, she’s a skank, but she’s also someone who can get us paid to dance. “Okay, but what about the money she’s offering?”

  “Girl, you know video dancers don’t get paid much money.”

  “Sure they do. They’re dancers.”

  “No way they get paid.”

  “Here, I just looked it up. It says that nonunion music video dancers get about four hundred and seventy-five dollars a day. Overtime is like sixty-five dollars an hour and rehearsals are about two hundred and fifty dollars.”

  “So if rehearsals for the video are tomorrow we can make, like, two hundred fifty dollars each, right. That’s standard rates,” I say.

  “Please, do you really think Taj is gonna pay us that?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “I don’t trust her, so I’m not doing it,” Jalisa says.

  “For real, you can count me out, too,” Diamond adds.

  “So that’s the three of us telling her to go to hell,” Jalisa says, assuming I say no, as well.

  But I don’t say anything and they don’t notice because we immediately go on to another topic of conversation. We start talking about taking the SATs and studying together. Then that segues to our usual picking-colleges conversations and then finally to guys and dating. We laugh and talk for the next hour. But still in the back of my mind I’m thinking about dancing in the video. What’s a few hours dancing to get paid? I don’t like her, but I’ll definitely take her money.

  What really bothers me is everybody around me. They all think they know what’s best for me, but they don’t. I can do this. I can get the money and get the hospital off Grandmom’s back. As soon as we disconnect I call Taj. She’s not there so I leave a message telling her that I’m in. I just won’t tell anybody, not even my girls.

  Thirteen

  Got Haters?

  kenishi_wa K Lewis

  Hating on others only makes you look desperate and stupid and shows everybody how insecure you really are. Get over yourself. Stop hating!

  30 Apr * Like * Comment * Share

  seriously, it’s never a dull day here at the Penn. It’s Monday morning, I’m back at school and, wouldn’t you know it, drama hits as soon as I walk in the building. The halls are already lined with the usual respective groups. The jocks hang in the hall by the gym. The cheerleaders hover just a few feet away. Then there’s the geeks, the Latinos, the Africans, the Middle Easterners, the rappers, the rockers, the brains—everybody has their hallway place except me. I don’t really fit into any of the groups, so I just have me.

  At one point the popular kids tried to hook me, but that wasn’t gonna happen. So the thing is they’re all kinda looking at me now, more than usual. I have no idea why and right now I really don’t care. I would think it’s all just my imagination, but my life doesn’t work like that.

  Anyway, I haul myself in extra early so I can get to class without seeing anybody. Apparently that’s not gonna happen. Forget this—I walk to my locker and, as usual, try to get the day over as quickly as possible.

  “Kenisha, Kenisha, hey, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Neeka rushes up to me, hooks her arm in mine and steers me toward my locker and then starts whispering. “All right, girl, tell me everything.”

  “What do you mean, tell you what?”

  “Okay, first you have this kick-ass YouTube video with you dancing and now you have all these—”

  “Wait, wait, that video was supposed to be taken down over the weekend,” I correct.

  “I don’t know if it’s down or not. You know how it is, people be moving stuff around on the internet all the time. I know you’re on Twitter and Facebook, so you’re probably on everything else, too. You know nothing ever disappears once it’s out there and it looks like your dance video is seriously out there and about to go viral. I never knew anyone go viral before,” she says, then she looks at me like I just split an atom with my mind.

  After that I didn’t want to hear any more. I knew Neeka was probably right. File sharing on the internet is like having a hot secret—nobody keeps it to themselves—and apparently I’m the latest hot secret to go around. “Okay, this is just too stupid,” I say, shaking my head. I start spinning the lock on my locker, but don’t get a chance to set the first number.

  “Wait, so now there are all these pictures posted of you hanging out and dancing with Taj. I am too impressed. But, girl, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were in like that and hanging with her this weekend? Shit, why didn’t you take me with you?”

  “Pictures posted,” I repeat, ’cause that was really all I was hearing. She starts explaining what she saw posted. See, this is why I hate cell phone cameras and irresponsible idiots. They take pictures and post them to make people think they’re popular when they’re really not. “I wasn’t hangin’ with Taj, she was hangin’ with me,” I say, then start spinning my combination, but then she stops me again.

  “Wait, wait, there’s more. We were talking before and you’re never gonna guess who transferred here from Hazelhurst.”

  I don’t get the chance to guess ’cause I see exactly who it is as soon as I turn around to look at her. Regan Payne walks down the hall. She sees me and I see her. I swear my jaw just drops. Of all the people, why the hell does it have to be her?

  “Hey, Neeka,” Regan says as she passes us, then eyes me hard like she’s got something to say to me.

  I eye her, too. See, we’ve played this game before and I will definitely step up to her again. Seriously, if she thinks I won’t do a repeat on kicking her ass here at Penn, she’s delusional. I will and I’ll enjoy it. I’m still not over her calling my mom out like she did. As a matter of fact, she’s lucky I don’t start something up right now. They’ll be calling her “hallway hair” in both schools.

  “Hey.”

  I turn around. Troy is standing right behind me. He’s smiling. I still haven’t figured out his game. “Hey,” I say.

  Neeka looks at both of us. “Neeka, this is Troy.” She smiles and nods and does that thing most girls do when they see him—mouth open, eyes glazed, stupid smile on face.

  “Hey,” he says, then nods his head.

  “Hey,” Neeka says, then looks at me, “we’ll talk later.”

  As soon as she walks away Troy steps into her space and blocks my view of Regan. “I tried to call you Sunday to see if you wanted to hang out,” he says.

  I just look at him. He’s been asking this same ques
tion since the day I walked into the Penn. He knows it’s not gonna happen. “Funny, I thought we got past this point. I guess not.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I was thinking we can really hang. You know, go to a movie or something.”

  “I usually hang with Terrence, my boyfriend.”

  “Look, it doesn’t have to be a thing, it’s just hanging.”

  I look at him. He looks sincere, but I’ve been fooled before. “I’ll think about it,” I say, and then let my eyes drift to the side where Regan is standing staring at us.

  Troy glances to the side, too. Regan quickly looks away, pretending she’s wasn’t just eyeing me. Okay, I’m thinking, what’s all that about?

  “I guess you see my cousin transferred here,” he says.

  Shit, I completely forgot he told me before that Regan is his cousin. I glance around him again. Regan is back to staring at me. “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “I didn’t know she was coming until it was already set.”

  “No big deal. She’s your cousin. She just needs to stay out of my face. She can stay on her side and I’ll stay on mine.”

  “Just like that, huh.”

  “Yeah, just like that. But if she wants to start something, I’m not gonna back down or walk away.”

  “I talked to her. She’s cool.”

  “You talked to her and she’s cool. Yeah, right,” I say skeptically. “Forgive me if I don’t buy that. Somehow I doubt she’s gonna be acting brand-new.”

  “She listens to me. She doesn’t have a choice.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask him, ’cause I have no idea.

  “Let’s just say she listens to me,” he repeats.

  I still have no idea what he’s talking about, but I guess it’s a family thing. So whatever, either way I’m ready for whatever comes.

  “You don’t trust easily, do you?” he asks while pulling books out of his locker.

  I start laughing. I figure he must be joking. Trusting him is like trusting Darien—it’s never gonna happen. The first bell rings. “All right, whatever, I gotta get to class. Just take care of your cousin and we won’t have a problem.”

  I get the rest of my books out of my locker. When I close it I turn around and see Neeka smiling all up in Regan’s face. Okay, this is all of the sudden looking too shady. First she’s with me and now she’s with Regan. But I’m not saying that my friends can’t be friends with other people—I’m just surprised. I got the impression she didn’t like her, either. Guess I was wrong. Regan says something to Neeka and they both turn around to look at me. Regan glares, like she usually does, and Neeka just looks caught.

  Enough of this. I grab my books, slam my locker closed and head to my first period. I’m the first person in class, right. That’s good. I don’t feel like a whole lot of staring. I get to my seat and open my cell phone to check messages. It’s nothing really interesting, so I send a quick text to both Jalisa and Diamond about the internet pictures just in case they haven’t heard yet.

  “Hey, girl.”

  I look up, seeing Ursula walking over to me. Her assigned seat is across the room, but she comes in and sits in the seat right next to me. “Hey, what’s going on?” I say.

  “You, apparently. It’s all over school about you hanging with Taj over the weekend. Okay, question—did y’all really drive up to New York to hang with Jay-Z and Beyoncé?”

  “What? No, of course not,” I say.

  Ursula laughs. “I didn’t think so. People be lying their asses off around here. But seriously, girl, you got just about everybody talking about you right now.”

  “I don’t know why. It was no big deal. We were just at the same party and I was dancing with my girls. You know how we do. Somebody took pictures and posted them.”

  “Taj,” she says, shaking her head. “I remember her crazy ass when she used to hang around the way. She had this thing for Darien for a while. She loves herself some bad boys. And for real, she’d give it up in a hot minute. Most of the guys around know that for a fact.”

  I start chuckling—Taj and Darien together. Why am I not surprised by that? Darien is as bad as they get. He’s perfect for her. The attendance bell rings and the rest of the class come in and start taking their seats. “We’ll talk at lunch,” she whispers as our teacher walks in and starts talking.

  She gets up and goes back across the room to her assigned seat. A few minutes later class starts with a pop quiz. I’m not really prepared, but the quiz seems easy enough. I finish it and then just chill. All I’m thinking about right now is hooking up with Taj and getting paid.

  After class some of the students sitting around me start asking me about Taj, but I just blow them off with bullshit answers. I don’t really want to be bothered. It happens the same way in each of my classes after that. I decide to skip the cafeteria at lunch and instead hang out in the library with the computer geeks. I know it’s usually pretty quiet and nobody’s gonna bug me. I go in and take a seat in the back in the stacks. I put my earbuds in and put my head down. Just as I’m about to close my eyes and take a serious timeout I hear a lot of laughing and talking. Then somebody touches my shoulder. “Hey, didn’t I tell you, we’re famous.”

  “Shit,” I mutter as I look up seeing Li’l T popping his ass down in the seat across from me. “Want do you want?”

  “Hey, hey, hey, I know you feeling me now,” Li’l T says.

  “I don’t even want to talk to you.”

  “Hey, what, I took the video down.”

  “Yeah, but it’s too late. It’s already out there. Do you know how much drama I have to deal with because of your little production?”

  “Yo, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t the one hanging with Taj all weekend and taking pictures. So, speaking of hanging with Taj, when you gonna hook a brotha up? I need to get in there.”

  I start laughing, ’cause for real his mom must have dropped him on his head from a sixth-floor window. He’s totally clueless.

  “I gotta get out of here,” I say, then start gathering my stuff just as my cell phone rings. I check caller ID, then answer. “Hey.”

  “Kenisha, this is Taj. Are you in?”

  “Yeah, I’m in.”

  “Good, what about your girls?”

  “They’re already tied up, so they have to pass.”

  “A’ight, that’s cool. I’m texting you the address to rehearsals today. It starts at five o’clock in Studio A, top floor. Don’t be late. My time is valuable.”

  “Okay, see you then. Bye.” I close my cell and start smiling. This is exactly what I need. I text Jalisa and Diamond and tell them we need to talk. Then I leave a simple message—Taj wants us in her next video, are you in?

  “Who was that?” Li’l T says.

  I completely forgot about him. “See ya.”

  “Hey, wait.”

  I just keep going. I can’t believe it—Li’l T was right. The YouTube video is opening all kinds of doors. Now hopefully it’s gonna make me some serious money, too.

  So now just about everybody’s talking about my song and my dancing. By the end of the day it’s all over the school. People who I don’t even know are coming up to me talking about it and asking me questions. Then, of course, there’s the flip side of all that with the haters. You know they’re out in full force.

  But seriously, thank God it’s turning out to be one of those quick days that when you blink it goes by in a flash, ’cause I don’t know if I could take any more. I have people coming up to me all day long talking about the video and the pictures of me and about dancing with Taj. By the end of the day I’m through. It was nonstop stupidity.

  So I’m standing at my locker getting my jacket and stuff and the drama continues. It’s not like I don’t hear her. She make
s damn sure I do. Seriously, jealously is a bitch named Cassie. Every time I see her I get pissed off. She screwed me and she acts like she’s the victim.

  Bottom line, Cassie is such a hater and now she’s hanging with these juvenile delinquent ninth graders that don’t know any better than to take everything she says as truth. I have a feeling she was the one who broke into my house with Darien. I just wish I could prove it, so I can see her ass locked up for a while.

  “…yeah, I saw her on YouTube acting like she all that. Don’t nobody care about her stuck-up ass,” Cassie says just loud enough so I can hear her as she walks by. I know she’s talking about me, but I just shake my head. It’s all stupid drama that I don’t need to be bothered with right now. I have a dance audition in four hours. So, F this.

  Fourteen

  Going Viral in the Real World

  kenishi_wa K Lewis

  I never ask to be popular. It always kinda just happens. I do my thing and the world tunes in. I’m okay with it sometimes, but other times it’s all just BS. Cue spotlight.

  30 Apr * Like * Comment * Share

  after a beginning of the line to the end of the line Metro ride, I get to Maryland a few minutes earlier than I expect. The rehearsal studio is right across from the station. I walk in and look around, then head to the second floor. The studio is huge and looks nothing like the ones at Freeman studio. These are way better.

  Full-length wall-to-wall mirrors surround the room on all sides. There’s a piano and drum set in the corner, sprung wood floors with Marley coverings and a serious sound system. There are four other dancers sitting around laughing and talking. They look at me as soon as I walk in. I go over to them. “Hi,” I say, walking up to one of the girls closest to the door. “Is this Studio A?”

  “Yes, but this is a private rehearsal.”

  I nod. “Is this where Taj rehearses?”

  “Yeah,” she says, “but she’s not here and she doesn’t do the autograph or groupie thing when she’s rehearsing. So you’re gonna have to leave.”