by Dream Jordan
I didn’t let a syllable escape from my lips.
“I don’t want her, Kate. I want you.”
“Then why’d you sleep with her?” I finally asked.
“Sweetheart, you confuse me,” began Charles. “You don’t want to be my girl, but then you’re sweating me about some ho who meant nothing to me? Come on, now—a chick who gives it up that quick can’t mean anything to me … and I wouldn’t have done anything with her if you were my girl.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m serious, Kate,” insisted Charles.
“And my name is Joey. Whatever.”
“You know what? Forget it.”
“Good, it’s forgotten,” I spat. “Just don’t let me oversleep. I have to be home before ten o’clock.”
“All right, then, sweetheart, good night.”
“Nothing good about this night,” I said. “And I’m not your sweetheart.”
“You’ll always be my sweetheart,” said Charles in the softest loving tone.
Whoa. Those words alone melted the icy block of resentment stored inside my chest. Careful, girl, keep it gangster.
“Kate,” Charles whispered in my ear, my weakest spot on my body.
I turned to him and said, “What?”
He reached out to touch my face. He lightly trailed his fingers on my cheek. “You’ve got the cutest chubby cheeks, you know that?”
“Thanks,” I said flatly.
“I bet you were a cute baby.”
“I don’t have a single baby picture, so I wouldn’t know.” I turned my back to Charles again. For ten silent minutes, we lay still. I just wanted to stay like this forever. Yes, I was still upset with him, but I wanted to be close to him. Feel his body heat, his warm breath in my ear. Charles must’ve sensed my weakening resolve. The next thing I knew, he was caressing me from behind, and I was letting him. He danced his fingers over my neck, my shoulders, and up and down my arms. Then he pulled me closer to him, and the warmth from his body, his breath on my neck, had me going crazy inside.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Charles whispered, burying his face in my hair.
“Okay, that’s nice,” I said, moving my head away from his hot delicious breath. Back to reality.
“Kate, please don’t be like this.”
“Why do you keep trying so hard? I said no.”
“Baby, you’re lying in my bed, dressed like you want some skins and you expect me not to try again?”
True. My skirt was hella short. Not to mention, guys seem to know when our bodies are calling, even when our minds are telling us no. They keep going for the panties until we surrender. I think we give off some kind of smell … like a cat in heat. Still, it wasn’t going down like that.
“Sorry, Charles, after what happened, I’m just not feeling you like that anymore.” This was a bald-faced lie. I still felt for Charles, too much for my taste. Lucky the room was pitch black; Charles couldn’t see my nose growing. “Listen, no hard feelings, a’ight?” I added. “You’re still my dawg.”
“But I don’t want to be your dog,” Charles said. “I want to be your man.”
At these words, I smiled, more to myself than to him, thanking goodness that I still had some self-esteem left in my soul. With guys like Charles, the pie is all the same, and if I let him get a slice—game over—he wouldn’t be hungry for me anymore. Like Tisha always tells me, “You can’t choose your parents, but you can choose your men and your friends.” So, I’d be choosing wisely to leave Charles alone.
Charles fumbled for my hand. “Kate, baby, you know you got that number-one spot.”
“Yeah, as your homegirl,” I interrupted, releasing my hand from his grip. “Now, can we get some sleep, please?”
* * *
Early next morning, I woke up fully clothed (thank goodness) and snapped into action. It was already nine o’clock. Luckily, Charles’s mother slept in late on Sundays, so we didn’t get busted by her.
I didn’t want Charles walking me home, not even beyond his building’s lobby. I could already picture Ted on a Sunday stroll and bumping into sweet little Kate being escorted by a boy too early in the morning.
“See you later,” I said to Charles, standing by the elevator door.
“Can I at least get a good-bye kiss?” asked Charles, bending down for me to reach his lips.
“Nope,” I said, wearing a smirk.
“So, it’s like that?”
“Yup.” I sashayed out of Charles’s lobby, feeling powerful in my strut. I knew Charles was still standing there, watching me go. I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, his eyes were stuck on my backside. I playfully blew a kiss at him and he pretended to catch it. That’s all Mr. Player would be getting from me—ever. Now he’d always be left to wonder what could’ve been; and that’s the mystery I needed to keep. I’d be the One Chick Charles couldn’t get. Now that’s what’s up.
Feeling good, I squared my shoulders and kept it moving down the block, pride swelling in my chest with every step.
* * *
My head was bloated with ego by the time I made it to Bainbridge Street. I had resisted the man of my most passionate dreams, and I thought nothing in the world could bring me back down to earth.
But I thought wrong.
Dead wrong.
As soon as I neared the house, I saw Ted standing on the stoop.
Why was he standing on the stoop with no Sunday newspaper in his hand and no smile on his face? I had no idea. His arms were folded tight across his chest, and for the first time since knowing him, after I greeted him, he scowled. Before I could make it up the steps, he demanded, “Where were you?”
And before I could answer him, he turned his back on me, shoved the front door open, and ordered me to get inside.
Chapter 25
I followed Ted into the living room, where Lynn was already sitting on the couch, arms folded tight against her chest. She wore a scowl too.
“Now where were you?” Ted asked in a whisper that seemed worse than a shout.
“Um, I spent the night at Naleejah’s house,” I stuttered.
“So, where’s your overnight bag?” asked Lynn. I noticed her eyes were pink, like she’d been crying.
Over me? Oh man.
“Where’s your bag?” Lynn repeated.
“Um, I left it at Naleejah’s house by mistake.”
Ted sat down next to Lynn, paused for a second, and then said, “Come up with a better lie, Kate.”
I stood frozen in shock.
Ted cleared things up for me. “Your friend called here three o’clock in the morning looking for you. Now, let me ask you again: Where were you?”
His words hit me like a slap.
Busted. Naleejah was such a spiteful broad. Wow.
Right then and there, I wanted to come clean, start new, and stay true in the Johnson household. But then again, if I had told them what really happened last night, there’d be much bigger problems to deal with in the future. Sleeping overnight with some dude? Oh yeah, they would swear I was sexually active or getting close to it, and I’d be getting hawked harder than usual. So if I was going to lie, I’d better make myself look good in the process.
I took a deep breath and explained that yes, I lied to go to this party, but, when I found out Naleejah had planned to smoke weed and hitch a ride with guys we didn’t know, I decided that I didn’t want to roll. Naleejah called me a punk about it, I got mad and left the party alone.…
As I recounted my tale, I started believing it myself. I even noticed Lynn’s face soften after hearing my courageous story.
“But where’d you stay all night?” asked Ted. His face had softened too.
“I slept on the train,” I blurted. This perfect little lie didn’t just fall from the sky. Back in the day, like I told you, I used to run away from foster homes all the time. I’d ride the train from the first stop to the last. Rode the A, B, C, 1, 2, 3—didn’t matter to me as long as I had somewhere to sleep.
/> “You rode the subway all night?” Lynn shouted. “Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten yourself raped or killed!”
Or pregnant by Charles.
“Why didn’t you just come home?” asked Ted, scratching his head, looking disgusted.
“It was really late, and I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me.”
I stared at Ted, thinking, Please believe this lie. Ted looked in my face. I don’t know what he saw, but he seemed to believe me.
Lynn pointed at me. “Ted, do you see the skimpy clothes she has on?”
Ted frowned and nodded. “This is not the Kate I know.”
Lynn jumped up from the couch and started pacing the living room with her head down. Then her head popped up, and she began a long lecture about making choices and facing consequences. And as Lynn lectured nonstop, my thoughts drifted into an abyss.
I could already picture Lynn calling Tisha, already heard myself being told that I would have to leave, already saw myself out of the Johnson household, and maybe taken to a diagnostic center to be diagnosed by people who didn’t know me like that, already pictured myself in a new group home, getting into new fights for no reason, trying hard to make new friends.
I already imagined myself back where I had started—the nightmare of relocation after relocation flashed before my eyes.
But Lynn’s next words suddenly put my mind at ease: punishment. One week. No TV. No telephone. No outside.… No problem.
I wore a blank face to hide my relief.
“Did you hear me?” Lynn demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Of course I heard her. I wasn’t getting kicked out, and that’s all I heard. But I tried not to look too pleased. So I knitted my eyebrows and frowned deeply.
But Lynn’s next words made the frown on my face legit. “Listen, Kate, we care for you, we want the best for you, and we want you to stay here. But you’re too old to be making silly mistakes like this, old enough to know right from wrong. We trusted you, Kate. And you destroyed our trust. So it’s going to take a long time for you to earn our trust back. Now I’m going to be real with you. I’m not calling Tisha this time. But the next time I have to call Tisha about a behavioral issue, it will be to request your removal. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I looked down at the floor and swallowed hard. No. I couldn’t face being shipped to a thirteenth foster home. New people, new rules.
I was so used to the Johnsons now. I didn’t want to leave them.
But because of what I had done, the number thirteen would be forever hanging over my head for the rest of my stay. Tears welled up in my eyes.
“Crying isn’t going to help you now,” said Ted. He left the living room shaking his head at me. Lynn followed behind him.
I threw myself on the couch, grabbed a pillow, and rocked back and forth, crying my eyes out, my heart out, my frustration and pain; everything was coming out of me in streams. I cried so hard and so long, I gave myself a headache.
I dragged myself up to my room and changed into bedclothes; just when my day should’ve been getting started, I was going to sleep. I slept all day long. Didn’t even eat dinner. The next day, I tried to avoid leaving my room. Didn’t even want to use the bathroom. I was too embarrassed to face the Johnsons. Talk about laying low? I wanted to live in the basement for a while, just to hide my face. My shame.
* * *
For the length of my punishment, I mostly stayed in my bedroom, or on my fire escape reading the library books I had taken out earlier. Lynn and Ted talked to me only when necessary. I tried to do extra chores around the house just to get back on their good sides. No dice. Things didn’t lighten up until my birthday rolled around.
On my special day, the blue sky was filled with August sunshine, and I was stuck inside my bedroom, listening to the birds tease me by chirping and singing outside my window. When Lynn summoned me downstairs to get the phone, I thought it was Tisha calling about some foster care issue. But when Lynn covered the phone and said “Five minutes—only because it’s your birthday,” I knew someone special was on the other end.
The line was full of static. But all was clear because I knew my homegirl’s voice anywhere—across the globe, it didn’t matter. “Felicia!” I cried, breaking out into a happy grin.
“Kate, I miss you so much!”
“Miss you more,” I exclaimed. “And you remembered me on my birthday!”
“How could I forget you!” Then she broke out singing “Happy Birthday” to me. I laughed at her crackly voice. But I had to cut the song short. Lynn was in the living room. Lynn said only five minutes, so five minutes it would be. “I appreciate you thinking of me,” I said. “But you need to hurry up and be back!”
“I’ll be home in seven days. I’ve been counting.”
“Cool, I’ll be off punishment by then.”
“Punishment? Oh no! What happened?”
“Long story.”
“Well can’t you tell me half of it?” whined Felicia.
I looked over to see if Lynn was engrossed in her television program.
She was.
I turned my back to Lynn, pretending to look outside the kitchen window. Then I whispered as loudly as I could, “Girl, I finally kissed Charles.” I was bursting to tell Felicia this news first.
“Oh my gawd!” exclaimed Felicia. “What happened?”
“Well, I met this new chick, some crazy mess went down, and next thing I knew I ended up in Charles’s bed … and now I’m on punishment.”
“No you didn’t!”
“Yeah, girl, I spent the whole night with him.”
“Did y’all do it?” Felicia was so excited, it seemed like she was about to jump through the phone.
“No, we didn’t do it, but we sure did something.”
“Oh man, the suspense. This isn’t fair!”
“Don’t worry, girl, this is only temporary,” I said. “We got all the time in the world to talk when you get back.”
“Okay, I guess I can wait.… Friends for life, right?”
“Come on, now,” I said. “You already know.”
“Yeah, you can’t get rid of me!”
“Wouldn’t want to,” I said. “But I have to go now.”
“Okay, girl, see you in a week! Can’t wait to give you a big sloppy kiss on the cheek!” I pictured the goofy grin I knew Felicia had to be wearing, and smiled as I hung up the phone.
“So, who’s Charles?”
I spun around to face Lynn, who had come out of nowhere.
She stood two feet away from me, hand on her chin. “So, who’s Charles?” she repeated, her eyebrows raised up to her hairline.
My heart was in my throat. I didn’t know how much she had already heard, but I knew she heard something. Oh well. Busted. It was now or never. If I was going to start fresh in the Johnson household, I had to tell the whole truth, and nothing but.
When I was through telling it, I braced myself for the attack.
Lynn leaned against the counter, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at me for what felt like hours. Then she said, “Well, I do appreciate your honesty … but what you did was risky and plain old ridiculous. Spending the whole night with some boy, Kate?”
“But we didn’t have sex,” I blurted out.
“I’m glad to hear it, but that doesn’t change what you did—I trusted you.”
I dropped my gaze and lowered my head in shame.
“I was young once too. I do understand … but that doesn’t mean I’m not adding one more week to your punishment.”
Oh no.
Felicia.
I raised my sad eyes to meet Lynn’s. She knitted her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. “Now what’s that ridiculous face for? You act like I just sentenced you to prison. You’re getting off easy, if you ask me.”
I was surprised to see a hint of laughter in Lynn’s eyes. And this tiny hint of playfulness cau
sed me to open up a bit. “Well … it’s just that I wanted to be available when Felicia got back … but now I won’t be able to.” I was hoping my voice sounded pitiful enough for her to make some adjustments to my punishment.
But Lynn only shrugged and said, “Think about that the next time you decide to do something crazy. Hope you had yourself a good time at that party. Hope it was worth it. Do you think it was worth it?”
“No,” I muttered.
“Now if you act right, next year you won’t be stuck in this house. Ted and I can take you out on your birthday.”
Next year?
Just then, Lynn had no idea that she had made my day—my whole year—with those two simple words. Two extra weeks of punishment couldn’t even bring me down now. Lynn’s words, next year, rang in my head, made me feel light and giddy in the head. This was the first time a foster parent was talking in future terms with me … like I actually had a natural place in the Johnson household. I felt so good on this day, my birthday. Born again, and starting over. Without a second thought, I walked up to Lynn and hugged her, holding back my tears. She looked baffled when I came at her, but she had enough sense not to ask questions. She just hugged me back.
* * *
Three days later, Lynn and I bonded even more. I was in the bathroom, primping for no reason, when I discovered my hair was falling out in small patches. Terrified, I flew to the kitchen, where Lynn was sitting at the table surrounded by paperwork.
“Look,” I said, fingering my bald spot. This was my first time coming to Lynn for a problem. She looked just as surprised as I felt.
“I shouldn’t have let Naleejah give me that bootleg perm,” I muttered.
“Don’t worry,” said Lynn. “Go sit in the living room.”
She got up from the table, went upstairs, and came back down with a comb, brush, and hair grease.
She sat on the couch, I sat between her legs, and she started braiding my hair into tight cornrows straight back. This was the first time I could remember my hair being touched by a grown woman, and it felt strange at first, but good, like I was being cared for—like I’d seen so many other kids get cared for—by a woman, a mother figure … maybe.
