by Paula Chase
This must be how a mannequin feels, Mina thought as Mrs. O’Reilly whacked softly at invisible lint at the hem of Mina’s dress.
Mina made WTF? eyes at Lizzie, and they giggled softly.
The older women hadn’t given Lizzie much chance to help, so she’d long given up and sentenced herself to a nearby corner of the Mooneys’ master suite, the only room large enough for all three ladies to have sufficient room to fuss over Mina.
When Granny J went to smooth Mina’s hair for the tenth time, Mina had a mini meltdown. “Granny, are we done yet?”
Miss Jenna, Mariah’s mom, was a petite woman with smooth, flawless brown sugar skin. She was to Mariah what Mariah was to Mina—a look into the future. They were three generations of the same wide brown eyes, small ears, and pouty mouth.
“I know you’re not tired of somebody making over you?” Granny J put her hands on her hips and fixed Mina with a look. She chuckled softly and went back to her fussing, ignoring her granddaughter’s exasperated hiss.
“Brian’s here,” Mina’s dad bellowed from downstairs.
The announcement sent the women into a frenzy of hair patting, strap fixing, and face powdering.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to be let go that easily, Mina hollered over to Liz. “Can you go get my handbag, please? It’s in my room, sitting on my dresser.”
Glad to finally have a task, Lizzie bolted.
The sea of activity finally ceased. The women stepped back and admired their work.
Mina was a vision of brown skin swathed in satiny, sapphire blue. The dress hung perfectly on her compact frame, hugging at the top and swaying softly through her hips, kissing the middle of her thighs. She’d wisely gone with her mom’s suggestion and worn her hair in a simple sleek wrap. Bent slightly at the ends, the longer hair reached out as if trying to lick her cheek. The one-inch heel sandals showed off her pedi—pearly sapphire polish to match the dress and a tiny flower encrusted with a single crystal on the big toe.
“She’s gorgeous,” Lizzie’s mom said, proud.
Too choked up to speak, Mina’s mom nodded.
“Well, let me go meet this boy, see what all the fuss is about,” Granny J said with mock gruffness. She swatted Mina on the butt and kissed her cheek before heading downstairs.
Lizzie’s mom hugged Mina. “Let me go get the camera ready. Have fun tonight, sweetie.”
Finally able to breathe, Mina walked over to the full-length mirror. She grinned at her image. All the fuss had been worth it.
“Ooh, I look so cute.”
Wiping at tears, her mom chuckled. “Well, thank God you’re not vain.” She stood beside Mina in the mirror and put her arm around her daughter’s waist. “I can’t believe you’re going to prom. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you and Lizzie played dress up in my closet, flopping around in my heels?”
“Actually, it probably was. I borrowed a pair of your shoes and wore them to school the other day.”
Mariah squeezed Mina’s waist. The tears leaked uncontrollably through her smile.
Mina dabbed at her own eyes. “Mommy, you’re going to get me crying. And I do not want y’all to have to redo my makeup.”
“I know, right?” Mariah laughed. She wiped her eyes to staunch the leaking. “Have fun and be good tonight.” She hesitated, her mouth ajar as if she wanted to say more. Instead, she sniffed and smiled.
“Mariah, come on now,” Mina’s dad yelled.
“Let me get down there.” Before leaving, Mariah pecked Mina on the lips. “Have fun, baby girl.”
Mina twirled around once, winked at herself, and headed out. She nearly collided with Lizzie, who held the crystal bag out to her.
“Thanks, Liz.” Mina started for the steps, then stopped. “Oh, wait. I forgot something.”
She and Lizzie walked to her bedroom.
Mina rummaged through a tiny, silver star-shaped jewelry box and pulled out the ring from Brian.
“I figured you never took it off,” Lizzie joked.
“It was getting icky from lotion and stuff.” Mina slid the ring on her left pinky. She shrugged her shoulders. “How do I look?”
“Adorable,” Lizzie said with a warm smile.
“Thanks for helping me get ready,” Mina said.
“Yeah. I’m not sure I was much help.” Lizzie’s eyes rolled. “Our moms were like Nascar prom dressers.”
“I know that’s right.” Mina walked over and gave Lizzie a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”
“Would I ever miss it?” Lizzie asked.
Mina couldn’t answer over the lump in her throat. She shook her head really hard in answer and gave Lizzie an extra squeeze.
When she let go, she looked around the room, double-checking for forgotten accessories.
“Mina,” her dad yelled, the irritation in his voice clear as a bell.
“Am I forgetting something?” Mina asked, more to herself than Lizzie. “I’m forgetting something, aren’t I?”
Lizzie’s and Mina’s heads swiveled from left to right. They searched the room, neither sure what they were looking for.
“You have your lip gloss? Cell phone?” Lizzie asked.
Mina nodded. That was pretty much all that fit in the handbag, anyway. Still, it nagged at her that within the tornado that was her getting ready, something had gotten caught in the storm and been forgotten.
The feeling kept her rooted in her room a few seconds longer until she heard her father’s footsteps approaching the stairs.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said, scurrying out.
Scenes from a Prom:
Act One, Scene Two
“I’m insane, I need a shrink.”
—DJ Khaled ft. Lil Wayne, “We Taking Over”
On the other side of Del Rio Bay, Jacinta was in a bad mood.
Everything and everyone was getting on her nerves.
One, she felt nauseous—head tripping, stomach woozy nauseous. The feeling had started when she was in the hair salon. All the smelly holding spray and spritzes had turned her stomach sour. The feeling lingered, rising and falling in waves that made her dizzy. She felt like lying down and staying ’sleep until Raheem went off to school.
And Raheem was another thing.
She’d told him that she wanted to get dressed at her Aunt Jacqi’s. The house was bigger and Aunt Jacqi’s yard had a nicer background for pictures. She hadn’t told him that second part. It would have only meant a lecture about her acting boogee. Raheem had gone down the litany of reasons why it made sense to leave from The Cove: it was closer to the hotel where the prom was being held. It made no sense for him to drive over to The Woods and then back to Del Rio Bay proper. Most of both their families lived in Pirates Cove, so who would drive everybody over to The Woods, blah, blah, blah—he had a million and one reasons why it made more sense, and Jacinta had nothing to match, except she didn’t want to get dressed in The Cove.
So she’d lost that battle.
And here she stood in the tiny room she shared with her sister on the weekends she visited home, in only a strapless bra and panties. The room felt smaller than usual because her aunt Jacqi and her younger sister, Jamila, kept coming in with new questions, “Where did you say you put those heels?” “Cinny, can I try this lip gloss on?”
The urge to slam the door shut and lock herself in was so strong Jacinta had actually gotten as far as shutting it quietly when Jacqi burst in, practically taking Jacinta’s toe off in the process.
“Girl, come on. Raheem is going to be here in a few minutes.” Jacqi held Jacinta’s dress in her hand. It was still on the hanger under a clear plastic covering, like it had just come from the dry cleaners. She placed it on the sill above the door, her hands pushing up the plastic in a hurry. Within seconds, she had it off the hanger and was holding it out for Jacinta to pull on over her head. She frowned, her eyes questioning Jacinta. “Cinny? Come on.”
Jacinta lifted her arms slowly, like they weighed two tons.
> Jacqi draped the dress over her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Jacinta’s voice was flat. She let her arms fall.
“Are you and Raheem arguing or something?”
“No.”
Jacqi put her free hand on her hip. “Then what? I thought you’d be dressed and standing on the corner waiting for Raheem for this night.” Caught up in her own memories, she rambled on, “The way you always trailed after Raheem and Angel being a tomboy, first, I thought you were going to end up one of the boys. Then after y’all started going out, I thought we were gonna have to lock your butt in because you always wanted to be with him.” She held the dress up again. “Shoot, this is almost like a wedding day for you two.”
Jacinta winced at the comparison.
“That was only a joke, Miss Jacinta Renee Phillips.” Jacqi shook the dress at her. “Come on.”
Jacinta’s arms went up again, and Jacqi helped her pull the dress on and over her curves.
Jacqi fluttered about, walking around Jacinta, making sure the dress had fallen correctly. She buzzed on, more excited about the night every second. “Is your father letting you head to O.C. with Raheem tomorrow? I can remember going after my own prom. It was the craziest weekend ever.” She shook her head.
“I don’t think I’ll be going back to O.C. until my senior year,” Jacinta said.
Jacqi laughed. “That’s right. Still on probation. Is that why you upset? Is Raheem rolling down there with his boys without you?”
“Him and Angel might go. They said they weren’t sure yet…something about crashing with some of the basketball players.”
Jacqi stood back, giving Jacinta the once-over.
“Aww, my niece looks so cute.” Her eyebrows arched. “Grown. But cute.”
“Aunt Jacqi, can you see if my father has any stomach stuff?” Jacinta asked.
“Stomach stuff like…what? Pepto-Bismol?”
“Anything. My stomach hurts.”
“It’s probably just nerves,” Jacqi said. She put in Jacinta’s left earring. “Is it cramps? Is your period coming on?”
“I wish,” Jacinta said under her breath.
Jacqi’s head popped up from scooping up the second earring. Still standing right beside Jacinta, she was quiet for a full second. Slowly, she inserted the second earring.
“Cinny, are you late?” she whispered.
Jacinta took her time swallowing, counting the seconds it took to push the moisture down her throat. One and a half. She swallowed three more times before nodding slowly.
Jacqi pulled out the lone chair in the room and sat down.
“How late?”
“Fourteen days.” Jacinta felt like a little girl, looking down at her aunt in the chair for a reprimand. Her face was hot with embarrassment and shame.
“You know for sure if you are or not?”
“I was hoping it would come on,” Jacinta said as if that answered the question. She didn’t want to mention that she had the test. That it was hidden at the bottom of her drawer beneath a stack of winter clothes that she’d never put in her storage trunk. That every night she prayed she wouldn’t need to take it. And that every morning she woke up both angry and determined that it would come on tomorrow.
Jacqi rubbed her eyes hard as if trying to erase a bad image. She took a deep breath, exhaled, then stood up. “Take a test tomorrow. I’ll get you one tonight.”
“I have one already,” Jacinta said, her voice barely audible.
Jacqi’s eyes popped slightly, but so fast Jacinta would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring her aunt in the face. The take charge tone in her voice remained firm. “Fine. Take it tomorrow morning. We’ll…”
There was a knock at the door, and they both jumped.
“What in the world are y’all doing?” Jacinta’s father’s voice said from the other side. “As teeny as that dress is, no way it should take this long to get it on.”
“We’re coming, Jamal,” Jacqi said.
“Well, can I see before she comes downstairs?”
“Tomorrow,” Jacqi whispered to Jacinta. In two steps, she was across the room, opening the door.
Jacinta’s dad beamed at the sight of Jacinta in her brown and yellow-printed slip dress. If he had any concerns about its length or lack of material, they were gone now.
“Look at you, baby girl.” He opened his arms for a hug.
Jacinta willingly went into the embrace. The warmth and strength of it made her want to blurt the truth to him, telling him so he could fix it like he’d always fixed things for their family. But the voice in the back of her mind screamed, no, loud enough to overpower the vulnerability she felt. She listened to it, even as she held on, crushed in her father’s strong hold.
Prom Nightus Interruptus
“You take my hand and say you’ve changed.”
—Jo Jo, “Too Little Too Late”
I did this wrong, Kelly thought.
She ran the flat iron over her hair one last time, pressing every single natural wave out of her thick, chestnut hair. Normally, her hair, tight with waves and curls, was right above her shoulder. With it flat ironed, it was every bit of three inches longer. It was shiny and sleek and gave Kelly an entirely different look.
The problem was, in her anxiety and rush to get ready the second Grand walked out the door, she’d started on her hair before her shower. It had taken her nearly an hour to flatiron her entire head of hair. Getting it all into a shower cap was going to be a chore. And even with a cap on, it would likely frizz. Not totally, but enough that she might have to run the flatiron over parts again.
Getting dressed for a date wasn’t rocket science, but that’s what mothers, grandmothers, and girlfriends were for—to help you get ready in an orderly and logical fashion. Now, she was stuck in a baby doll tee with the day’s musk settling over her.
Staring blankly at the mirror, she ran through her options. Angel would be here in another forty minutes. She didn’t have time to flatiron again, not even just a few segments.
She lifted her right arm and sniffed toward the pit.
She’d showered this morning. She hadn’t had gym. Maybe…She lifted her left arm and sniffed.
It was fine.
Thank God she’d shaved this morning.
She spoke aloud to her image in the mirror. “This will be our little secret, okay, nenesita?”
Without waiting for the image to reply, she unplugged the flat iron and reached for her makeup bag, sorting through the items she wanted. She wasn’t big on wearing makeup, a little eyeliner, maybe mascara and lip gloss—done. Even wearing that little bit had practically taken a presidential pardon when she’d approached Grand about it last year.
Kelly had to admit she’d been a bookworm, stay-at-home kind of gal all her life until her freshman year. Dating, wearing makeup, sleepovers every other weekend hadn’t just been a shock to Grand; it had been like Kelly was abducted by aliens and returned a new person.
Most days, Grand was happy with the new Kelly. Others, completely confounded.
Kelly didn’t feel different. She still enjoyed curling up with a book on the weekends she wasn’t with the clique. And wearing makeup was strictly a special occasion thing. As far as dating, beyond talking on the phone with Angel a lot and hanging out with him all of half a dozen times, Kelly wasn’t going to be anyone’s dating tutor any time soon.
She frowned, leaning her head to the right. She thought she’d heard the chime of the doorbell. Her suite was in the back of the house—it wasn’t unusual for her not to hear the doorbell or to mistake some other sound for it. But the house was completely quiet until she heard it again.
It was definitely the doorbell.
Angel was early.
That didn’t surprise her. She’d told Angel her grandmother was gone for the evening. Knowing him, he’d come over early thinking maybe he’d sweet-talk her into a little making out.
The thought angered Kelly.
S
he threw the tube of mascara down and hurried down the long hall and the spiral staircase to the front door. She snatched the heavy door open, ready to scold Angel, the words right on the tip of her tongue, and came face-to-face with Greg.
Their eyes were a matching pair. His bucked at the door’s sudden opening, hers widened at seeing him instead of Angel.
“Oh…hey, Greg.” Kelly looked beyond him, somehow convinced that Angel was still somewhere nearby.
“Hey. Sorry to bust in like this. You got a minute?” Greg shoved his hand in his jeans pocket. He rocked back and forth slightly.
Kelly stepped back so he could come in. Eyebrows furrowed, her eyes skated across the landscape of her front yard as if they sought proof that Greg, not Angel, had ended up at the door. She closed the door behind them and walked Greg into the kitchen.
“Your hair looks really nice like that,” Greg said as he took a seat at the counter.
Kelly’s hand flew to her head, smoothing down the already flat hair. So used to feeling swirls, the straight hair felt odd under her fingers. “Thanks.”
“I’m not really as big a lame as you might think,” Greg blurted. He chuckled nervously. “Sorry I flaked on our tutoring session the other day.”
“We still have one more before your final,” she reminded him, hoping her voice didn’t betray her disappointment.
Greg had only come to apologize about ditching their session? It was as if she’d imagined their date at the Ria. Like it had never happened.
Greg cleared his throat noisily. “So was that dude your ex or something?”
The tension in his voice made Kelly smile.
She was so used to being the timid, nervous one in the boy–girl dating scenario that it felt deliciously awesome to know she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Plus, if this were only about tutoring, why would Greg care who Angel was. She regrouped quickly, answering immediately.
“Ex, yes. I’m sorry he crashed our date like that.”
“I’ve never seen him before. Is he from around here?”