Prime Choice

by Stephanie Perry Moore

  My dad said, “Son, I’m proud of you. I give you a hard time, but it’s because I expect great things from you. I don’t know what Damarius and Cole are thinkin’, but we shutting down at twelve so you better get yo groove on in a hurry.” He pulled me close. “Heads up, man, a whole bunch of girls came up to me saying that they’re your girlfriend. I don’t know what you doing, but you better watch yo back.”

  I only had one girlfriend I claimed. And I scoured around to try and find her. Before Tori came into my sight, Amandi pulled me to the dance floor. I promise, every time I saw her, her clothes were less and less. It was getting colder and colder outside. The crazy girl had on almost nothing!

  “I can’t believe my mom let you in here,” I said to her.

  “Probably when yo mama saw me, I had on more than I have on right now. With all these people around, what she gon’ do? Be the po po and lock me in jail?”

  “I don’t know. She see you coming on to her son, she might try.”

  “I just wanna give you a birthday dance. I’m just wondering, Perry. When you gonna be ready for some real fun? Everybody knows your lil’ girlfriend is a Goody Two-Shoes. Aren’t you ready for a nasty girl?”

  “No comment, no comment!” I said choking as I pulled away from her embrace. “But I’ll hook back up wit’ you later for real, for real. I need to look around and check out the crowd.”

  Before I got too far from her, she touched my behind. The girl was really wild! A little too hot for me.

  “There you are,” said sweet little Tori who came up to me moments later.

  For some reason, I was feeling like she was my little cousin, sister, niece or something. Looking at her didn’t turn me on one bit. Yeah, she was cute, but it was like teddy bear cute; something that made you snug at night. And though I’d been the one to put on the brakes in the sex area, she had regained her original thought and made her decision to stay a virgin until she got married.

  That was good for her, but that wasn’t the birthday present that I had in mind. I danced with her, anyway. A few of the honeys in the place were winking at me. None of them made me want to step away from my girl. But when I looked around and saw Damarius dancing with Savoy, my head did a double take.

  “What’s she doing here?” I blurted out, forgetting whose arms I was in.

  “What’s who doing here?” Tori asked me.

  “Oh, nothing, babe. Nothing. My moms just wanted to make sure that she got everyone.”

  “You didn’t know she was here? I thought she would’ve given you a hug when you walked in. I was in the back trying to surprise you and she was posted at the door making sure she didn’t miss her baby come to his birthday party.”

  “Yeah, let me go holla at her now. I’ll catch back up with you later, babe.”

  “All right, boo,” she said and then gave me a little peck on the lips.

  I watched Savoy laugh with Damarius as her long black hair twirled in the air with her every movement. I was definitely feeling my oats again looking at that sweet sight. I stepped over to my buddy. When he saw me there he broke apart from Savoy and turned to me.

  “D, man. I see you were with my friend,” I said, smiling at her.

  “Yeah, and she can dance, too. You better handle her for the rest of the night. If Ciara sees me with this hottie, she’ll lose her mind in here.” Then Damarius bent toward my ear. “Do she know you got a girl in here, too?”

  “Oh, yeah, Savoy knows. She and I are just friends, partner. But, watch out for a brotha, all right?” I whispered back.

  “I got yo back, man.”

  Damarius pushed me into Savoy. He placed my hand behind her back. I shoved him. We all laughed. When he was gone, the music changed to a really slow groove. She motioned she was okay with dancing with me.

  “I wouldn’t have expected you to be at this thing,” I said to her.

  “My cousin told me about it, and I didn’t have nothing else to do,” Savoy said nonchalantly. “So me and my girls decided to come to an Augusta party and see how y’all do it.”

  “That’s the only reason, huh?” I asked, playin’ with her.

  She didn’t respond. Just held me as our bodies were in rhythm. It was obvious to me that as I’d just had a conversation with three different women in the last twenty minutes, Savoy Lee struck a nerve with me. She made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I didn’t know what I was going to do with that feeling. And I didn’t think Savoy did, either—because when the next song was a slow jam, too, she made an excuse to get away from me. Of course that intrigued me more.

  The rest of the party was straight. It didn’t end until around twelve thirty AM. My dad was having such a good time with his salesmen that helped chaperone that he slipped when it came to watching the time.

  I was handling eighteen well. I was having a good night without any of three women going off on each other or me. But inwardly, my heart had made a choice. Now my mind had to figure out what I was going to do about it. Until that decision was made, I decided to just keep everything at a status quo. If I was to be with Savoy, it would work itself out.

  “Mom, why do you want me to be in the Beautillion?” I asked, hoping to ease my way out of this event, given by my mom’s sorority, Delta Sigma Theta. As a big muckety-muck there, everything they had going on she was a part of it, it seemed like. And that was cool ’cause I didn’t mind my moms not being home all the time to tend to my every need. She actually gained more flexibility. With Dad being at work, she could run around saving the world.

  It was only when she wanted to include me in that high-society stuff that a sour taste was left in my mouth. It was cool for Payton to be a debutante ’cause that was right up her alley at the time. I didn’t want to be a Beaux, but it was like Moms wasn’t giving me a choice.

  “Junior, let’s be fair here. I support your events all year, making all your football games, going on your recruiting visits, planning other birthday parties. I’m asking my son to do one thing for me, and that’s being in this Beautillion. I want to introduce you to society. I want my friends to know how proud I am of my baby! Plus, they teach so many great things throughout the process. It’s like your father and I baked the cake and this program will put the frosting on top, you know?”

  When I saw that I wouldn’t be able to get out of it and how important my participation was to my mother, I just agreed. She went on to being so excited about it. Whatever!

  I do clean up nice in a tuxedo and I have the etiquette and all. Wasn’t really feeling that, though. But for my moms, I’d be down for anything. Then she hit me with another request.

  Touching my shoulder she said, “We only have nine guys and they really want one more. I know you got a friend that you could invite to be a part of the program.”

  “How much is this going to cost, Ma? You know my friends can’t afford this extra stuff.”

  “Boy, you gotta couple of friends whose parents would pay a thousand dollars for this caliber of grooming. Work it out. First meeting is tomorrow and you’ll only have to go once a month until you guys are presented in April.”

  Later that day, I was with Cole and Damarius. As unpolished as they were acting, sitting out the window, yelling out at girls and gobbling down Mickey D’s as if they’d not eaten in days, I realized they needed some fine-tuning. My buddies were embarrassing.

  “I don’t even know why I asked you two turkeys,” I said as they joked on me when I mentioned it as we balled in my backyard.

  “Tea and an opera concert—stuff like that? Oh, no, man! You got the wrong brothers if you think we’d be interested in that up-under-the-collar junk,” Damarius said.

  I laughed back. “See, that’s what’s wrong with y’all fools. You need to expand your horizon. Get cultured!”

  “Then you can learn for us,” Cole said, “and teach it to us. That way we know everything we need to know without having to take the course ourselves.”

  “So, you trying to cut corners, huh?
” I asked as I dribbled and Cole stole the ball.

  “Looks like I’m gonna school you on a few things ... like this shot! Shhhhh.” Cole missed. Damarius and I both laughed.

  “Naw, it’s cool because I wouldn’t want y’all in there embarrassing me and making my moms look all bad.”

  “Why don’t you ask your smart friend? He always trying to hang around you, anyway,” Damarius said, actually having a good idea.

  “Boy, that’s the smartest thing you ever said. Great idea. But now let me school youuu! Nothing but net,” I said as my ball went in perfectly.

  “Whatever.”

  Early that evening, I was on the phone with Justin.

  “Aww, man, that sounds real cool, but why did you ask me to do it?”

  “Actually, it was Damarius’s idea. He thought you and I bonding this way would be fun.”

  Shoot! I didn’t know what to say. I mean, he wasn’t my first or second choice, but my mom needed somebody else. This was right up his alley. I couldn’t believe I didn’t think about him first.

  Justin’s mom talked to my mom and the next thing I know we was sitting next to each other waiting on some late man. I didn’t know none of the other brothers that were signed up for this gig. When the late dude arrived, I could’ve choked on the water I was sipping. To my surprise, it was Saxon Lee.

  My mom walked up behind me and said, “Oh, yeah. His mom and I are Links sisters together, though his mom is an AKA, she wants him to be presented to society like his sister will be. Now you won’t be the only big athlete in this program.”

  Saxon didn’t even acknowledge me, which was cool. I ain’t wanna speak to the brotha no way. Justin saw us looking at each other in a cold way.

  “Who is that? You know him?” Justin questioned.

  “This football player from South Carolina who thinks he’s all that.”

  Justin joked, “Oh, I thought you were, Perry Skky.”

  “Ha, ha, ha. Very funny!” I said to my friend as I punched him in the arm. “Trust me, my ego’s nothing like that jerk.”

  We learned that each of our five main sessions would be given by a local fraternity, first up was Kappa Alpha Psi, the Nupes, as they called themselves, wearing crimson and cream. They were teaching us about goal setting.

  Mr. King took the mic and said, “How many of you know what you wanna be when you grow up?” Only Saxon raised his hand. Why wasn’t I surprised? “Yes, young man, tell me your name.”

  “My name’s Saxon Lee, and I know I’m gonna be a pro football player. I’m already on track for that. Best-rated player in the state of South Carolina right now. On course to set records for my high school and the state. I’m being highly recruited, and I will be able to choose my own college. I plan to play for three years, come out early and be in the pros before I’m twenty-one.”

  “Wow. You’ll need some training to set those goals. We have another football player in here, I think, from the state of Georgia, my state. He here?” Mr. King asked.

  I raised my hand slightly and nodded my head.

  Mr. King asked, “So, do you share his same vision? You wanna play in the NFL, too, I’m sure.”

  “That’s an option, sir. I don’t know at this time.”

  “The rest of you in this room are unsure about what you want to be when you grow up? I want to challenge you. It’s great when brothers have a dream. Something that we can work toward. Most of us don’t do that. Sports seems like a road that sets brothers on a course to where they hope to go.” A lot of us were nodding our heads. “But, Mr. Lee, I suggest you also choose another course of action. Getting in the NFL or NBA has many odds stacked against you. If you don’t make it, what else are you doing to prepare for another dream? Make sure you choose a major in school so you will have something to fall back on. You could get hurt, you could get injured or you may not be as good in college. Now, I’m not saying that any of these will happen, but a good man is always prepared and has another plan in case his first one didn’t pan out. And a great man is able to adjust midstream, and have a bright future regardless of whether it works out his way. But to all of you, it’s okay if you don’t know where you wanna go. We just need to work on it.”

  Mr. King told us to start thinking about some of our strengths, start thinking about careers that interest us and start spending time talking to folks we knew who are already in those jobs. Sort of interviewing them to see if it was something that we would like to do. We talked about setting realistic timeframes, sticking to small goals to actually achieve the big ones. I really learned a lot from this session. I hated to give it to my moms, but one thing I came away with from the Goal-Setting Workshop was that in order to achieve anything, you gotta see something, and then set steps to actually achieve it.

  Though I didn’t know what my life purpose was yet, I left that meeting knowing I would make it my business to find out so that I wouldn’t spend my years doing something that wouldn’t bring me to my goal. But that I would be making every day, every moment and every step count toward the bigger goal I was trying to achieve. Yeah. Being a Beaux seemed like it would be okay after all.

  In the locker room, I could not have felt any worse. We’d just lost our first game of the season. The score was 17-14. We had the chance to win. We were on the 2-yard line, first and two, with thirty-two seconds left. Coach had called a timeout and set a plan to put the ball in my hands. Most coaches’ plays indicate that in that situation you run.

  Coach Robinson chose to give it to me, and I dropped the ball. That would’ve been okay ’cause we still had time. However, the defending player from North Augusta caught the ball in the air. It was an interception. They won because of my mistake.

  Choked up, I placed a towel over my head in the locker room and just let out what I was feeling.

  Damarius came up to me and said, “Aye, man. I let a long pass go when we had them 10-14 and the boy ran sixty yards down the field and scored. I know how you feel. It’ll be all right.”

  The kicker came up to me weeping as well. Saying that he had lost the game for us. Said that there were two field goals he’s missed. “I shouldn’t have missed those field goals, Perry. They were easy shots, and I missed them both. Those six points are the difference in the game. It’s not your fault.”

  Coach Robinson made his way over to me. “Perry, son, take the towel off your head. Come on in my office so we can talk.”

  I wasn’t moving, though. All this was too hard to bear. To a lot of people, it was just a football game. But to me, missing that ball, letting it slip through my hands like that, losing the game for my team made me realize that football was more than a game to me. I had pride in what I do, and passion when I do it. It was a game I loved. And I loved playing for those guys. I loved winning for those guys. I loved that the coach believed in me enough to put the ball in my hands. Why’d I have to mess up?

  No, I couldn’t move at that moment when Coach Robinson wanted to say whatever he had to. I didn’t know what he was planning to say to cheer me up, but I didn’t wanna hear it. There was nothing that could be said.

  “I should’ve ran it,” my coach told me, leaning down real close to my towel so that everyone in the whole locker room couldn’t hear.

  That confession was only for me. I still didn’t take the towel off my head. I felt him touch me on the shoulder, hit my locker and walk away.

  Much later I came on out of the locker room and into the crowd.

  My dad walked up to me and said, “Son, if it wasn’t for you and your earlier catches they wouldn’t even have been in the position to win tonight. We’ll talk about the rest of this when we get home.”

  The news media wanted to ask me questions, but dad walked me past them and got me to my car. He took my keys from my limp hand and drove me home.

  “Son, Cole came up to me and told me how broken up you were in the locker room. Now, I wanna tell you a couple of things here. You gon’ be playing with the big dogs in college next year. When yo
u’re a superstar player, you’re gonna have criticism. You will have more accolades; however, when you gamble with football, you can get burned. But you can’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. You can’t let people see you cry and be sad. Not your teammates, man. They look up to you for leadership.”

  My dad went on to fuss about the coach’s play calling and time management. Though the coach did admit to me personally he made wrong calls and the players admitted they thought they lost the game, I wasn’t about passing blame. I had it in my hands. Nine out of ten times, I would’ve caught the sucker. But that was the one time when I dropped it and the defender was there to catch it.

  This was taking away our hopes for a national championship. That was probably why this loss hurt so bad. Now, we were gonna need some help from other schools to lose, too. You never want to count on anything like that and I’d messed that up for my team.

  Though my dad was talking through the rest of the drive home, I wasn’t listening. When I finally got home, my mom was waiting at the door with wide-open arms. I just fell into them with red eyes, wishing that I was her little boy again so I wouldn’t have to deal with big-boy problems.

  “What I tell you, Son? You gotta shake it off. You gotta get tough. I guess the one good thing about this is that it’s showing you how much you care about football.”

  Later that night, I couldn’t sleep much.

  The next day I couldn’t get away from it, either: replays on the local news, newspaper articles, my teammates calling. I couldn’t understand why God would let something like that happen. I was a good guy.

  Driving around all that Sunday, I couldn’t believe where I ended up: at church. I saw Pastor Monroe out by his car, and I turned into the parking lot right beside him.

  “Hey, son. I heard you had a rough game last night. Sorry about that,” my pastor said as he opened my car door.