by Janay Harden
Anyway, love you. Hope to see you soon.
Love,
Indy
Days after the Jaxon fiasco, Mr. Koffman, my guidance counselor, called me down to his office. I wasn’t sure what he wanted. I only saw him one a year when it came time to pick my classes. I don’t know what guidance he gave—but it wasn’t to me.
“Indigo Lewis, take a seat,” he smiled. He said my full name like he knew me, but he didn’t.
“They call me Indy,” I said.
I plopped down, sinking into the chair. I glanced up at a lopsided framed picture on the wall. It was a still shot of a waterfall and one word was lettered across it.
OPTIMISM
“Indy, yes.” he scribbled in his notebook at his tiny desk. I peered around his office; I guess you could call it an office. It was the size of a small closet, even Sidney’s room was bigger than this, and it was filled with large file cabinets and smaller notepads everywhere.
“Have we thought about college? After graduation plans?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, I have applications to a few colleges ready to submit.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, Titus University and Virginia State University,” I said proudly. I had narrowed my choices down to these two. One was close and one was far.
“Virginia… Isn’t that an HBCU?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Koffman searched through his sea of notebooks, and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he stood and opened his large file cabinet. He pulled a small manila envelope with my name on it. Indigo Lewis.
“It looks here like your dad, Benjamin Barre, is above the poverty limits.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What does that mean?”
“It means in all likelihood; you may not receive a good amount of financial aid. He makes too much money, and you may only qualify for loans.”
Makes too much money? Did this man want to see our house? Or Sidney’s closet? How in the world did Dad make too much money?
“No, he didn’t!” a voice in me cried.
“Excuse me?”
Mr. Koffman glanced at me over his glasses. “You may want to take Virginia State off the list. Typically,, HBCU’s don’t provide a lot of financial aid.”
What? I mulled over his words.
“Have you thought about cosmetology school? Or data entry? Those are low-cost programs, and you could have a certificate in one year.” He smiled as if he had done what his name implied and provided guidance.
“I saw a sign in the advanced wing, about Engineering camp. What’s that about?”
He chuckled and said, “It’s a little late for that young lady. We have to get you out into the workforce now. Besides, you have to have a certain GPA and I think… ” Mr. Koffman trailed off, his eyes shifted to the manila folder with my name on it in his lap. His ankle was folded over his leg exposing his checkered socks. Why did teachers always wear those types of socks?
“Ah yes, just like I thought. You missed the GPA minimum by a smidge, so you wouldn’t have been eligible anyway.”
“Oh,” I said, sinking into the chair. I wasn’t eligible for something I didn’t even know existed. Had I known; would I have been interested? Probably not, but I didn’t have the choice; it was decided for me when the information wasn’t available.
“Mr. Koffman, thank you. I will look into that.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I lied. My hands shook as I avoided his eyes and I slid them under my butt, so Mr. Koffman didn’t see how jittery I was. I had to use the bathroom, and now my palms were clammy.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No, no, I’m fine.”
“Well, here is some information about the technical school in town. Please let them know I sent you,” he beamed.
I took the pamphlet Mr. Koffman handed me with only Black people on the cover wearing nursing scrubs, construction hard hats, and salon aprons.
“Good luck, Indy, please let me know if you need anything else.” He extended a handshake. I didn’t even need this pamphlet, but I shook his hand anyway.
This was the good high school. The school I was proud to attend. The high school I felt lucky to be a part of. The school that told me to go be a hairdresser.
Sitting in the editor’s room a few minutes later, I glanced outside; the trees blew wild against the large windows. Tunica Rivers in February was not brisk but not warm. One thing I loved about this town was the same thing I hated.
Creating Jaxon’s video invaded my afternoon. I had a lot of Jaxon footage from that fateful day, but it proved hard for me to watch. Certain parts made my blood boil, and I had to fast forward. The camera I borrowed from the library was still busted and I still hadn’t told anyone what happened, not even Will after I broke down crying in his car. People would think I was careless and irresponsible. I mean, I did fall asleep in class. Maybe I was careless. Dad would have a fit if we had to pay to get it fixed. I didn’t know what to say just yet, so I said nothing. My phone chimed.
Jaxon: How’s the video looking?
Me: It’s fine
I couldn’t even ruminate in peace; he occupied my phone as well. Jaxon sent back a thumbs up text and I slammed my phone onto the editing table. The word that came to mind for me was triggered. Yeah, that’s it—triggered—that’s what I would call the article and video. It showed me exactly how we were different and so not the same.
Why did I have to work three times harder for everything? Why did things come so easily to Jaxon and his family? His parents didn’t want my car in their driveway, so they made me move it. Jaxon’s dad could easily call my job and create a project for me to complete. I had no say in it. Jaxon could fuck up one hundred times and still be deemed successful, but I planned and curated my entire life to even have a seat at the table with him. It just wasn’t fair. I spent an entire day in white privilege world, and it was too much for me. It made me bitter and angry.
Sidney, I didn’t want her to go through this. To live in this world where she was only judged by her talents or abilities, not by how much money she had, or the color of her skin. None of it made sense to me. When it was her turn to attend Tunica Rivers High School, would there still be two separate sides of the school? Would there be a side where we all took the regular classes and a different side where the honors kids went? And why was that?
When Mom and Dad went here, was it the same way? They were high school sweethearts. He was studious and read books; she was popular and sang in school performances. And now she was at Trochesse Asylum, performing for them. I bet Mom and Dad never thought their life would end up this way.
I would have to make it different and I would have to change it. But how? I was a senior in high school getting ready to go to college; I still wasn’t sure which college yet, but I knew I was going somewhere. Somewhere wasn’t soon enough. But how could I go to college with these feelings?
The rage inside was tearing through me. I had dreams about hurting other people, but since my time with Jaxon, they just got worse and worse. My fantasies about driving with my mom to hit that man ramped up but now included us riding over the curb and hitting more people. We still laughed, she and I. I wonder if she had those feelings too? Or maybe she was insane like people all said. I wasn’t so sure. Mom wasn’t the easiest person to talk to. When I went to see her, I never knew when we were getting the truth or another performance. Maybe I should ask her? Did she think about slitting someone’s wrist vertically? Had she ever thought about slamming someone’s head into a wall? Did it excite her, like it did me? Goosebumps ran up my arms at the thought. I hushed it away.
“Indigo, are you okay? Indigo?” Shantiel’s voice snapped me out of my mind.
“Oh-oh, I’m good.” I jumped in my seat at her voice. She stared at me with quizzical eyes.
Nico and Trish-Ann walked
in behind Shantiel.
“Let’s get started,” I stood. “Anyone have anything they need to say?”
Nico and Trish-Ann glanced at each other and Shantiel slowly spoke. “Um, are we going to edit the articles?”
Shit.
“Oh, right, right,” I rubbed my temples.
Shantiel shot me another look.
Nico turned up his music and Meg Thee Stallion screamed from his computer. “Ayyeee, ayyeee,” Nico bounced in his seat.
“Will you turn that down!” I snapped.
Nico looked at me and rolled his eyes. “What’s the problem? You don’t like Meg?” he swiveled in his rolling chair.
In a flash I was on my feet and I thought about punching him in his face. I bolted in his direction and I was two steps from him when Will intercepted us.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—come with me,” he took my arm.
My heart was beating so fast, but I had a one-track mind: lay hands on Nico. Shantiel spied me and Nico turned his music all the way down. I heard nothing. The three of them stared at me with confusion.
Leading me to the hallway, Will asked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“N-nothing,” I stammered. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. These days I wanted to cry, but not in front of Will, not again. I wanted to hide. Hide from myself and everyone else. Why did I take on this dumbass editor job, anyway? I wanted to live the good life, like Jaxon, that’s why.
“I’m fine,” I replied with a glare, pulling my arm back from him. “Don’t grab me like that.”
“Are we serious right now? Indy, you know I’d never hurt you. I’m trying to figure you out; you’re so hot and cold.”
“I know nothing. You know nothing.” I stared back. I turned on my heel and walked back into the editor’s room, and by the time I got there, Malachi was there chomping on peanuts.
“Hey, Bae, everything okay?”
The Three Stooges sat together at a computer desk, avoiding my eyes. I guess they filled him in.
“I had a rough morning, that’s all. Nico, my bad, I was tripping.”
“No worries,” Nico said, “not everybody likes Meg.”
The Three Stooges laughed and returned to their computers.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Malachi stared. He was seated, chomping on peanuts.
I huffed, “Sure.”
Walking back into the hallway now with Malachi, Will was still standing there with his cell phone in hand, texting someone. I looked past him. They both pulled me into the hallway with questions.
“Hey man,” Malachi said to Will.
Will said nothing but eyed me.
“We’ll be right back,” Malachi nodded. He paid no attention to Will’s silence. He never paid attention to anything.
The empty classroom next to the editor’s room was dark, and I flipped on the lights as we walked in. I plopped down into a desk and Malachi stood in front of me. I peered up at him, ready for his bullshit too.
“Is this about what I said the other night? About me not going to college?”
I said nothing. Did I care? Yes, part of me did. Malachi and I were a team, so I thought. Did I think that we would be high school sweethearts, get married, have kids, then live happily ever after? No, but anything was possible. Malachi was my comfort for the past year now, but we were clearly on two different paths. I’m not sure how I felt anymore.
“Well, I guess it is about college,” I started. “Listen, I have a lot going on right now with me. It’s not you, it’s me. Maybe we should take some time apart.”
Malachi’s eyes widened. “You’re going to hit me with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ cliché? Really, Indy?” He leaned in and squinted his eyes at me in disbelief.
I didn’t blink and repeated what I said. It sounded dumb, that I knew. But too many thoughts and too many emotions that I could not explain were running through me I had no explanation for right now. One minute I wanted to hug him and kiss him; the next minute I was having visions of hurting him and others. Maybe I needed some time to myself.
“I’m sorry, Malachi. It’s not just about the college thing. I have a lot going on right now.”
“So, what about prom? And Spring Fling?”
“We can still go if you want.” If he still wanted to? No, Indigo. Something in me bubbled up again, and I knew that wasn’t true either. I didn’t want to go. I wanted the choice, and my choice was to not go. There were too many men in my life telling me what to do, and I had enough.
“No. I changed my mind about that too. I don’t want to go to Spring Fling with anyone.” My head ached and splotches of black clouded my vision. I felt nauseous, and I held onto the small desk to sturdy myself.
“Are you okay? Where is all of this coming from?” His eyes searched mine for answers and he leaned down toward me in the desk.
“I can decide for myself.”
“But this just seems so out of the blue.”
“So was you not wanting to go to college anymore.”
“Again. Is that what this is about?”
“I just don’t want to do this anymore!” I screamed. I leaned in close and grimaced until we were almost nose to nose. He stood and stared down at me, so many questions running through his mind. I slammed my hands on the desk glaring up at him. He searched my eyes for something. For what, I didn’t know because whatever it was, it wasn’t there anymore.
CHAPTER 14
Mila’s car sputtered down the street, and I sat over a hole in the floor. She laid down a brown floorboard to cover the hole with duct tape holding it in place. I sat carefully with my legs open on either side. We were on our way to Bordeaux Mansion for Spring Fling, with no adults. The day was finally here, and people were more excited about it than prom. The text message went out about an hour ago from a fake phone number, telling us what to bring. Mila and I were bringing lemonade, and the jug of juice sat in my lap, so it didn’t fall in the hole on the floor.
I had put rollers in my long braids the night before, and the curls framed my face. I wore my leather jacket, and I opted for my silver hoop earrings and the locket of my mom. Mila wore a bodysuit, skirt, stockings, and boots. We both pulled for the lip gloss tonight.
“Is Will going to be there?” I looked at Mila.
“You still haven’t talked to them?”
“No… ” I trailed off. And Mila said them. The “them” had to mean Malachi too.
“You guys have to talk—and soon.”
“What has he told you?” I quizzed Mila. I didn’t want to admit my anger got the best of me the last time Malachi and I were together at school.
“He said you broke up with him for no reason. And Will I haven’t heard from. We’ve texted, but that’s it.”
The tone in Mila’s voice made my heart flutter. We both weren’t talking to Will but for different reasons. Well tonight we would talk—all of us. I would apologize to Malachi and explain that I just needed some time to myself to figure things out. I would also talk to Will because we’ve been best friends since we were kids, and nothing came between us; we always stuck it out.
Will and I met in daycare. Even though we both don’t remember being that young, his mom chuckled recalling how Will carefully helped me down the slide when we were toddlers. “He was so careful with you. He didn’t let anyone get too close to his Indy.” It was Will who first called me Indy. Not my parents, not Sidney. It was Will.
When we were in middle school, he went away for the summer to his uncle’s house in Chicago. I didn’t call him because I didn’t think he wanted to be bothered. When someone goes on vacation, they don’t want to be disturbed, right? I’ve never been on vacation and wasn’t sure. Not wanting to be a bother—I didn’t reach out. Will called about two weeks into his visit and said, “If you want this friendship to work we have to treat it li
ke a relationship. We have to put in the time and effort to talk to each other. You don’t go two weeks without talking to me and I don’t go two weeks without talking to you, okay?”
“Okay,” I said to him, my heart full.
Two weeks was our limit, and here we were at ten days. Tonight, tonight would be the night we would talk. I can’t remember a time when we weren’t able to fix us. Why was I thinking about this now, all of a sudden? Will was my best friend—and nothing more. Will made our friendship complete; our circle became a square—all sides equal. He knew me in a way that I couldn’t deny. Something even beyond Malachi. But what was beyond Malachi?
Mila turned down a gravel road and the house sat back on the property blocked by woods. Cars were parked up and down the long driveway, and a short distance away, we made it to the front of the house. Every room was lit up through the windows and music pulsated the air.
“You ready?” Mila gave a devilish smile.
“Let’s do it,” I grinned.
Mila and I entered the house, and I spotted him immediately.
“Hey, there are my girls,” Jaxon made his way towards us.
I gritted my teeth. “Hey, Jaxon.”
“Are you finished yet?” His dumbbells he called friends chuckled behind him with their red cups already filled. Someone came out of nowhere and handed me a red cup filled with red juice. Mila was already sucking hers down, and I followed suit. The taste burned my throat, and I needed something to wash it down, or it would be akin to nasty food I would send back in a restaurant after one bite.
“Oh no chasers tonight,” Jaxon teased. His friends giggled again before he spoke once more. “But seriously, are you done with the video?”
I took another swig from my cup. “Jaxon give me a minute, damn. We just got here.”
“My bad, my bad, I just thought you would take this seriously; you know it’s probably the opportunity of a lifetime for you.” Opportunity of a lifetime, he said. Opportunity of a lifetime… was it the alcohol making me hot? Couldn’t be—it didn’t work that fast. I was not in the mood for Jaxon’s bullshit tonight.