Got It Going On

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Got It Going On Page 10

by Stephanie Perry Moore


  Everyone looked around, not knowing what to do. We had no adviser there. I walked over to a corner and called Dr. Garnes. I was sure she would understand that we needed her badly. She had to come up here and help us. Though they had kicked her out, they were now at her mercy. If only she would pick up the phone.

  Finally, after a ton of rings, she answered. I was talking fast, so she asked me to slow down. I needed her to quickly understand what I had to say and hurry to the scene.

  I was extremely dumbfounded when she said, “I’m sorry, Cassidy, but you girls are on a collision course, and this was bound to happen. How are y’all ever gonna learn if I keep covering up everything? I’m sorry. I am not your adviser. Good night, I’ll pray for y’all.”

  She hung up the phone, and I wondered why I had even called her in the first place. That had been a waste of time. Walking back over to my sorors, I knew we were in big trouble.

  Perturbed, I took my phone and threw it across the room. Sam caught it. She and Isha rushed over to me.

  Sam handed me the phone and said, “Cass, what are you doing, girl? Don’t you realize there are cops all around? Are you trying to hit somebody in the eye and get taken in for that?”

  “I’m just frustrated, annoyed, and irritated right about now.”

  “We should’ve listened to you,” Isha said. “We never should have thrown a party. We just got in the sorority, and now it’s gone.”

  Isha was so emotional, Sam was so nervous, and I was so angry. There was not one thing any of us could do to stop what was going on around us. The police were interviewing everybody for criminal evidence. The campus police were taking everyone’s statements to find information that could possibly kick us off campus.

  “I just can’t believe she would do us like that. I thought she really cared,” I finally said to my two girls. “Coming up here to stand in as our adviser would not have killed her.”

  “What, you tried to call Dr. Garnes?” Isha asked.

  Hitting my phone against my leg, I said, “Yeah, and she’s not coming.”

  “Well, can you blame her?” Sam agreed.

  “Yeah, I blame her. We need her badly, and she won’t bail us out,” I said.

  “That’s because we kicked her out,” Sam said, rubbing my shoulders so I could calm down.

  “Wait, I didn’t want her gone. I was on her side. I’d been mad at everybody else because of it, and Dr. Garnes knew that.”

  “She probably thinks you’re a fool to be with us,” Isha said.

  “I think I’m a fool to be with y’all, too, but Sam insisted I come,” I said.

  “To keep us out of trouble,” Sam said.

  Isha said, “Why couldn’t one of you stop Cheryl from hitting that girl? Y’all were right beside each other in line.”

  “When has anybody been able to stop Cheryl? You should know that better than any of us,” Sam said. “Plus, for real, she is acting different.”

  “She’s right about that,” Isha said as I finally looked down at my phone.

  There were cracks all over the dial screen from my throw. Just what I deserved. I mean, absolutely nothing was going right. Certainly, I didn’t expect to have a tantrum and not have consequences.

  “So what are we going to tell the police when they come over here? What are we going to say? Are we going to say who did this, or are we supposed to stand and be silent? I’m asking because I wanna tell on Cheryl. Alpha chapter is more important than any individual, right?” Isha asked. “Cheryl is our girl and all, but, guys, we can’t lose our chapter.”

  “You can’t tell,” Sam quickly responded. “You just said it—Cheryl is our girl, and she needs our silence. Where is she anyway?”

  The two of them argued their points back and forth, and I was stuck. I could see both sides, and I could see no matter how much I tried to do the right thing, the wrong thing always happened, and people always disappointed me.

  “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” a familiar yet unwanted voice said from behind me.

  Sam and Isha stopped fussing. I should’ve known the voice belonged to the last person in this whole school—no, this whole state—no, on this planet—I wanted to see or hear from. I didn’t want to turn around. Maybe if I ignored the irritating sound of Al Dutch’s voice, he would go away.

  “This ... this is important,” he said, kinda stuttering and uncool.

  Yeah, his girlfriend was going to the hospital, and I regretted that. But had this been the first time she’d been physically assaulted? Maybe he’d done it before and we could pin this whole thing on him. At the end of the day, it was partly his fault that Cheryl had freaked out in the first place. And he’d better leave me alone because he didn’t want me to get started on that. All she had to do was say he raped her, and I’d be right there testifying he had done it to me as well.

  Instead of answering him, I tried walking away, but he grabbed my arm, and I screamed, “Let go!”

  The cops were staring in our direction. The jerk quickly let my arm go. I didn’t want him to touch me. I cringed.

  “Can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk to you?” Sam said. “You’ve caused too much damage to my friends.”

  “I need to speak to her now, all right?” he said, placing his hand in Sam’s face.

  While Sam and Isha held him up, I walked away. I couldn’t talk to him. There were no words he could say that I wanted to hear. I would rather listen to the police give us bad news about our chapter than stand there and listen to his bull. So that’s what I did—walked over to the police.

  “I would hate to have to arrest all these girls,” the white officer said boldy to our black campus cop.

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” the campus police said, having our backs. “You have no evidence. These girls are being tight-lipped and not giving up any information.”

  “Well, she didn’t get busted up by herself,” the man with the prune face said, trying to scare us.

  “Well, the method you’re using isn’t working. We’re gonna head back over to my station and try to figure this out.”

  The city cop said, “And just let the girls go free?”

  “We can handle this internally. Campus business. The ambulance has notified us, and the girl is breathing and doing fine. When she decides to talk and tell us who did this, you can come and get somebody, but right now you gotta let this go, sir.”

  “I’ll be back,” the city policeman said, frustrated as he walked out of the gym.

  “Y’all need to talk, and y’all know you had no business having no party without no adviser. This is just dumb! Y’all know my wife is a Beta, so I’ll do what I can, but a brother ain’t losing his job. I don’t think nobody can save you from this one,” the campus officer yelled to us.

  We all just looked around at each other. Cheryl was nowhere to be found. We were standing up for her, and she had abandoned us. This was horrible. What was up with her?

  I didn’t get two feet away from the crowd before Al Dutch approached me again. I just went off on him.

  I screamed, “Why are you messing with me? You took everything I had, and then you blamed me for your actions. You made me feel like nothing, and now you stand here, on a horrible night for my chapter, wanting to make me feel worse. Go to the hospital and see about Meagan. Leave me alone!”

  As soon as I turned to the left, he stepped in front of me. I had to do a double take for a second because it looked like he had water in his eyes. I knew Meagan looked bad; I’d seen her myself. There had been lots of blood, and her eyes had been swollen; she wasn’t pretty. I thought he would just brush it off and leave her for somebody else, but yet he stood there, emotional and crying. I mean, was there something about their relationship I didn’t know? Had she had a reason to go off on all us women—Ginger, Cheryl, me—because she and Al had something serious? And then reality hit. Why would I care about his tears? The police had said she was okay, so her life wasn’t going to end. So what if he loved
her? He had taken something from me, so he could go rot.

  “Don’t you get it? I really need to talk to you,” he said, pulling on my shirt.

  “Okay. Say what you gotta say right here,” I said, moving away from his grip and standing near Alyx.

  He leaned in and said, “No, this is serious. I need to speak with you alone. It’s about my health.”

  Okay, now I was extra confused. His health? Why would he need to talk to me about his health? Other than the water in his eyes, he looked practically fine. He wasn’t the one with the swollen face and blood gushing everywhere. Then it dawned on me; he probably had a disease, and he needed to talk to me about it. No!

  I turned around and motioned for him to follow me. I didn’t know where I was walking, and I didn’t wanna be alone with him, but this was private, and I needed to be able to hear everything he had to say. There was still so much commotion going on at the dance. My chapter sorors were blaming each other, and everybody was encouraging the deejay to crank the party back up. We walked to the hallway for quiet space.

  I turned and faced him, ready to hear what he had to say. Was it gonorrhea, herpes, syphilis, or what? He stood there like a lump of meat and said nothing. I just waited. I knew for a guy with an enormous ego, it would be difficult admitting his problem.

  He finally looked away and blurted out, “I’m HIV positive. I don’t know how long I’ve had it, so you might wanna go get yourself tested. Legally, I’m bound to tell you.”

  I was suddenly pounding his chest over and over, and he just sat there and took it. And now everything was making sense. Meagan had accused us of ruining things with Al Dutch. Had he told her? Did she know? Cheryl had become a zombie and lost it—did she know? And Ginger was nowhere to be found, and she never missed a party. Did she know?

  Al Dutch finally left me there feeling hopeless again. I felt so empty. Was I HIV positive, too? Or, even worse, did I have full-blown AIDS coming my way? And if so, would my life be pointless?

  13

  BEND

  I felt like a crowbar bent by a Sasquatch. Not broken, but definitely damaged. This was some of the worst news I had ever heard in my life. As much as I wanted Al Dutch to suffer for what he had put me through, I wouldn’t have wished this on him, and I certainly didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t just wallow in my state of doom, so I picked myself up, wiped the tears from my weakened eyes, and began to search for Cheryl in the gym. I needed answers.

  Isha tried to talk to me, but I pushed her right outta my way. I wasn’t trying to be rude or hurt her feelings, but she wasn’t who I was looking for. I needed to find someone who could relate to me at this very moment. I needed to find the person who could understand the weight of the world I was carrying on my shoulders.

  When I reached the parking lot and searched for Cheryl’s car, I realized I was outta luck. Sorors were coming up to me, asking what was wrong. I thought I was acting sane, but I guess my actions were a little sporadic. I was all over the place, and I could not find Cheryl anywhere I looked on campus.

  Then the sky cracked open, and it started pouring down rain. As my tears also covered my face, I looked up to the sky, not caring if the lightning struck me or not. I was practically at death’s door, so what did it matter anyway?

  With a heart heavier than a zoo’s largest elephant, I said, “Lord, this is too much for me to bear. HIV? Not me.”

  Trying to think where Cheryl could be, I got in my car and drove over to her apartment. I thought I knew the way, but I was sketchy on the directions. Cheryl was always so apprehensive about inviting us over. Shoot, I knew I didn’t have much, but she always acted as though she didn’t even have a bed to sleep on or something.

  Sure enough, her beat-up-yet-still-running automobile was in front of the apartment. I got out of the car to bang on her door. Knock after knock, I got no answer, but I refused to leave.

  “Cheryl, it’s me, Cassidy. Please open up. I need to speak to you. It’s urgent. It’s not about the police. Let me in for just a second. I don’t care about the place, Cheryl. This is important. If you care about me at all, open up,” I pleaded, tired of beating on her door.

  Finally, she answered. The hard, strong girl I was used to compared not one bit to the stranger who stood before me. Cheryl was trembling profusely. Her eyes looked like the eyes of someone who had been beaten rather than someone who had beat on someone.

  “This isn’t a good time, Cassidy,” she said, looking at the ground. “Please leave me alone. Go.”

  When she tried to shut the door, I forced my way inside. Cheryl did not look happy, but, honestly, this was not a happy moment. She and I were in the same boat, sinking fast. We needed two minds to find a way to stay afloat.

  “Al Dutch raped me at the beginning of the year,” I told her. “He stopped me tonight and told me what was going on with him.”

  “You knew he was an animal, and you let me go out with him!” she screamed.

  Not wanting to be attacked, I yelled back, “You and I weren’t even tight then. And I didn’t know how to talk to you about what I had gone through. Plus, you seemed so into Al Dutch. You never would have believed me, because you wanted to be with him. Besides, mentally, the incident tore me up. That’s why I shut down earlier this year. That’s why I had a breakdown. That’s why I understand why you went off on Meagan tonight. Getting life-altering information dropped on you out of nowhere is a lot. We can all respond in so many different ways. I’m scared, Cheryl, and I just came by here to tell you that—”

  “Tell me what, huh? That you’re here for me? We’re in the same boat now. A boat I could’ve been out of if you would’ve shared what kind of monster he was, but yet you just allowed me to continue seeing him. We both might be done, thanks to that fool. And though I’m so sorry about everything that happened with Meagan tonight, I just need you to leave, Cassidy. Some things you just can’t fix. My aunt has AIDS, and if that’s what we got headed toward us, that’s a windy cycle of turmoil we can never get out of. And to know you could have prevented all this for me, but you didn’t, makes me hate you as much as I hate Al Dutch.”

  As I stood on the other side of her closed door, I just felt worse. My stomach was all twisted up in knots. Question was, could I become untangled?

  “Will you please talk to me and tell me what’s going on?” Sam said to me when I got back to the apartment early in the morning. “I didn’t know where you or Cheryl were, and I need some answers, Cass.”

  I couldn’t have told her where I had been; I had no clue. After my tongue lashing from Cheryl, I had just driven around hoping, wishing, and praying that all that had gone on in the last eight hours was made up. A fairy tale. A dream waiting for me to wake up. But when I walked in the front door to see Sam standing there worried, I knew that wasn’t the case. This was real, and I had to deal with it. Truth was, did I know how?

  When I didn’t respond, she started crying. “You can’t break down again. You can’t do this to me. I feel like I’m going crazy, unable to help you, unable to make it better. I can’t get Cheryl to return my calls, and now you’re acting weird. Isha and I have been praying you’d walk through the door. I asked her to come over because I was worried.”

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  Sam pointed to my door. “She’s asleep in your bedroom.”

  “No, I’m awake. I hear you guys talking,” Isha called out from my room.

  “She hasn’t said anything,” Sam said. “Come out here and help me get some answers. Shoot, Isha, I’m tired, too, but we need to know what’s going on.”

  I realized I had sent my two girls into worry. But by telling them everything, wouldn’t it be worse? Isha came to the door and rubbed Sam’s back. They were united, ready to get me to open up. Looking deep into their concerned eyes, I knew that telling them would make it better. Sam would be there to rationalize all this. Isha would be there to give me a spiritual perspective.

  I took both of their hands and said, “This
is heavy, y’all, okay, and I need you to be strong for me.” They nodded, so I continued. “There’s a reason they tell girls not to sleep around with men.”

  “Are you pregnant?” Sam asked.

  “You’re dating a pastor. What do you mean ‘sleep around’?” Isha said.

  “Wait a minute. What pastor?” Sam said, seemingly irritated that I hadn’t told her about my new beau.

  “No, guys. Listen, this is before Konner, okay? Sam, I’m not pregnant, even though that would be better than the news I’m about to share.”

  “So then what are you talking about?” Isha asked.

  Sam looked nervous. She knew this had something to do with the rape. More tears strolled down her face. This was hard. I was hurting for me, and now I knew my girls were gonna be crushed hearing this.

  I took a deep breath and said, “Isha, I never really told you what drew me to the church and why I connected with the sermon the first night you took me to your youth service. But a similar experience happened to me. I was raped by a student on campus.”

  “It was that crazy Al Dutch,” Sam said with fire in her eyes.

  “Did you report it? Why is he still walking around like he is the big, bad wolf on campus? I remember he wanted to talk to you tonight. What did he want?” Isha questioned.

  “He told me he has HIV.”

  “Oh, my gosh. No, Cass, no. Wait, he’s been with Cheryl, too,” Sam said as I nodded.

  We all stood there in silence, but we didn’t need any words. The fact that they didn’t leave me, stayed by my side, and continued holding my hands let me know I had the extra strength I needed to make it through.

  Later that night I was resting. Well, I was trying to anyway. It was actually hard to sleep. I was sort of lying there looking out of my apartment window.

  I looked up at the sky and asked, “Lord, do You care about me? Did I find You too late? Am I a lost cause? Can I be fixed? Will You help me?”

 

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