It was as disgraceful and embarrassing as it was offensive and slanderous. There was no name attached to the attack. But I knew its origin. Fresh must have sensed the fire boiling up inside of me, because he spoke before I could even open my mouth.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it,” he said, placing a consoling hand on my shoulder. “The election is around the corner and school will be out in two weeks.”
“I wouldn’t give a damn if it was out in two hours,” I said. “Somebody is gonna have to pay for this! On my momma, blood.”
“Don’t do nothing stupid, fam,” Fresh said. “It ain’t even worth it. Kat will get kicked out of the election and you will get kicked out of school.”
“Fresh is right, J.D.,” Dub-B added. “Besides, we don’t even know who did this.”
“Oh, I think I could take a very good guess,” I said. “You know damn well who was behind this! Lawry is the only person who had that photo of us. He’s gonna have to see me from the shoulders. Period.”
“You got a good point,” Fresh said. “And I wouldn’t even be mad at you for dropping that punk. But right now, we gotta be diplomatic about the shit. We came too far with this campaign to throw it away now.”
I hadn’t taken ten steps inside the caf before the whispering and finger pointing began. I tried to act like I didn’t hear them, but I did.
“There he is, girl,” one whispered.
“Mmm-hmm, the one on the poster,” another said.
“He’s the one who gave Kat HIV?” someone asked.
“That’s what I heard,” another said.
I sat a few tables away from the hecklers, but I heard every word. Fats, Dub-B and Fresh were all at my table. The guys tried to talk loud and drown out all of the instigators spreading rumors, but it was no use. Everybody in the caf was talking about it.
“I can’t believe them fools did that, blood,” I said. “All this just because I stopped talking to Lawry. That’s a real hater move. Now I gotta whoop his ass.”
“You think they put those posters up because you haven’t been talking to Lawry?” Fats asked. “Nigga, please! Obviously, you haven’t been on Facebook lately.”
“I haven’t,” I said. “Timothy won’t let me use his laptop anymore. Why? What’s on Facebook?”
“Somebody posted a picture of Howard giving Lawry some head in one of the rooms in Marshall Hall,” Fats said. “It was the gayest thing I’ve ever seen, cuz!”
“Huh?” I said, scrunching up my face. “Are you serious?”
I looked across the table at Dub-B. He smiled. Before I could say anything, Fresh chimed in.
“So hold on, fam-o,” Fresh said. “You telling me you haven’t seen that joint? Everybody in my last class was talking about it. The girl sitting next to me pulled it up on her Blackberry and was showing everybody. Nigga, that photo is hilarious. I thought you posted it on purpose, to ruin Howard’s chances of winning the election.”
I looked over at Dub-B. He was grinning wide.
“You know I can’t stand Lawry,” he said. “And after that little stunt he pulled at the club in Miami, he had it coming.”
I can’t say I was mad at Dub-B for posting the picture. I would’ve probably done the same thing if he’d grabbed Leslie’s butt—after I beat him up. But I was pissed that Lawry implicated me in his homosexual exploits. He’d gone too far. Not to mention, now I had to worry about whether or not he was going to tell the Kappas that he knew I was prepledging. Lawry had me by the balls.
“That’s bullshit, blood,” I said. “You told me you wasn’t gonna post that picture, man.”
“Why are you so mad about that picture getting out, cuz?” Fats asked. “What’s it to you?”
“I was just thinking that,” Fresh said. “Why are you so protective of that picture getting out, folk?”
I just shook my head, took a deep breath and got up from the table, without answering. All of them were oblivious to the deal I’d cut with Lawry. They had no idea how much trouble I could get in with the Kappas behind that picture getting out. At that moment, I wished I’d never told Lawry that I was doing any prepledging at all. I should have just denied it until he changed the subject, like I started to. But hindsight is 20/20. And now, I was in for it. Before I talked my way into more trouble trying to explain myself, I figured it was best for me just to evacuate the scene. On my way out, I snatched down that demeaning poster from the wall. I ripped it in half and threw it in the Dumpster just outside the caf. On my way back to Marshall Hall, I saw at least three more, all of which I tore down, too. I went straight to my dorm room without saying a word to anyone. I’d come to the conclusion that when it came down to whether or not I’d make it back to U of A next semester, it was me against the world. Nobody could study for me or take my exams. I was on my own. And I wasn’t about to let any of this stop me from graduating from college. I had finals to study for. I kicked off my shoes and cracked open my biology book, determined to get some much-needed studying done before the finals. I was approximately seven minutes in, when I got a text message from Dex. It was a rather odd request, but coming from the Kappas, you never really ever knew what to expect. The message read: Bring three pair of panties and $100 to the frat house. And be here in an hour!
I didn’t have too many options. With $38.75 in my account, I knew I’d need to borrow some dough, quick. And something told me coming up with three pair of panties wouldn’t be easy—especially now that the word was out that I was on the DL.
“Damn!” I screamed in frustration, slamming my book cover shut.
After venting alone for about two minutes, then feeling sorry for myself for another three, I snapped into it. First, I called Leslie. I figured she probably hadn’t seen the posters since she went to Elman and I knew she’d let me borrow the money if she had it. Thankfully, she picked up.
“Hey, baby,” I said. “What you up to?”
“Baby?” she asked. “Don’t baby me right now, J.D.”
“Huh?” I asked, confused. “What you talking ’bout? What’s wrong?”
“You’ve got some explaining to do,” she said. “What’s all this talk I’m hearing again about you being gay, man?”
“Here you go with that shit,” I said. “You of all people should know better than that by now, Leslie.”
“You would think, right?” she said. “I don’t know though, J.D. I mean, I’m walking down campus minding my own business, and I see one of Howard Harrell’s posters with you hugged up this dude with no shirt. And to make matters worse, I get to my computer, and I see the damn thing posted all over Facebook! Not to mention the guy who you’re hugged up with in the picture—Larry or Lawry or whatever his name is—just happens to be the same guy I heard about you being on the DL with when I met you. And you denied knowing even him. And on top of all that, I heard there are pictures floating around on the net of that same guy giving head to Howard Harrell. And you’re all hugged up with this guy on the poster. I feel some kind of way about that, J.D. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck—”
“Look, Leslie,” I said, cutting her off. “I don’t need this right now. Of course Howard Harrell and his camp are going to drum up lies and whatever else they can to win this student government election because we are on the verge of beating him. So you can believe all this if you want to, but I’m telling you, none of it’s the truth. I’ve been going through a lot with school, this election, and just life in general. I just really need you to be in my corner right now.”
Silence followed. Cemetery-at-night silence. I looked down at my watch. I had approximately thirty-eight minutes to be at the Kappa house.
“Look, I really need a favor,” I said. “When you needed me to be there for you, I was.”
“That’s true,” she said, still sounding disappointed. “What’s up?”
“Okay, this is gonna sound really weird,” I started.
I should have stopped there.
“But I need to borrow
one hundred bucks,” I continued.
“That’s not a problem, J.D.,” she said. “I can loan that to you.”
“And… I need three pair of your panties,” I said.
“Three pair of my what?” she asked, inflecting her voice in disbelief.
At that point, I knew I’d shot myself in the foot. I couldn’t even bring myself to ask her again.
“Did you just ask me if you could have three pair of my panties?” she asked. “What the…? Why would you ever in your entire life feel the need to ask me for one pair of my panties? Let alone three! I’d really like to hear you explain this one.”
At that point, I started to just tell her that I was prepledging. But her hatred of frat guys was at an all-time high, plus I didn’t want to risk even more backlash with one more person finding out I was prepledging. I figured Lawry was going to rat on me. That was bad enough. But I certainly couldn’t risk word of that from a second person.
“You know what,” she continued. “Don’t bother explaining. This is crazy! I’m so done with this whole situation. ’Bye, J.D.”
The dial tone hit me in the chest like an uppercut from Mike Tyson in his prime. It was bone-jarring. It took my breath away. It hurt. Especially after I’d gone to battle with her ex, and jeopardized so much just for her. It was like a slap in the face. I had just under thirty minutes left, when I decided to call the only other girl on campus I was sure would have my back.
“Hey, Kat,” I said.
“J.D?” she asked, startled.
She had good reason to be. I hadn’t called Katrina all semester. She was my last resort.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” she asked. “I haven’t seen your name pop up on my cell phone all semester. Is it about the campaign? I spoke to your mom earlier today and she was helping me prep for the debate. You know, sometimes I think she’s more into this election than I am.”
“It’s not about the election,” I said. “Remember that day in the library, when you told me if I ever needed anything, you’d be there for me?”
“Uh-huh,” she acknowledged. “I remember. What about it?”
“There’s something I need from you,” I said.
“I said anything,” she said. “And I’m a woman of my word. What do you need, J.D?”
“I need a hundred bucks and three pair of panties in the next ten minutes,” I said. “Can you help me?”
“Oh my God!” Kat said. “I am so stupid. I’ve been so wrapped up in this campaign, I didn’t even notice.”
“Notice what?” I asked.
“That you’re prepledging!” she said excitedly.
For a second, I wondered how the hell she knew I was prepledging with the little information I’d just shared with her. Then I remembered she was in a sorority. Maybe it was an inside thing or something. I didn’t have time to bullshit her.
“Kat, please don’t tell anybody,” I begged.
“C’mon now,” she said. “I pledged! I promise not to tell a soul. I’ll meet you out back by the parking lot in ten minutes. Is that cool?”
“That’s perfect!” I said. “Thanks, Kat.”
FOURTEEN
AGAINST ALL ODDS
My kneecaps felt like someone was continuously tapping them with the sharp end of an ice pick. The pain was torturous. It was a stinging, unrelenting, throbbing pain that shot from my hamstrings to my knees all the way down to my toenails then back up every few seconds. Both of my elbows felt like they were broken. I didn’t even know it was humanly possible to break an elbow until now. But it felt like two grown men were taking turns kicking me in each one with steel toe boots. In reality, I was just on all fours—my elbows and kneecaps—leaning forward, with my ass up, holding my chin in my hand. Fresh was in the same position, just in front of me. My face was directly behind his ass, less than one foot away. We were wearing nothing but our underwear and wifebeaters. Every time I inhaled, I smelled his stankin’ drawls. I tried to keep my nose angled to the ground, but Fresh’s ass was unfortunately the exact opposite of his name.
“You could’ve changed your draws, my nig,” I mumbled, trying to keep my lips as close to shut as possible.
“I didn’t know I was gonna have my ass in your face all night,” Fresh said.
The other two guys prepledging with us busted out laughing. I was in so much pain, at that point, I laughed to keep from crying. Fresh laughed so hard, he pooted.
“Damn, blood,” I said. “You ain’t have to do it like that! Gaaaaatdamn!”
We’d been hovering in the same position, on all fours, for over two hours in a hot-ass, musty basement at the Kappa House. Meanwhile, they were having a party for the graduating seniors upstairs. Every fifteen minutes or so one of the Kappas would come downstairs to make sure we hadn’t moved. A few times, they came in through the side door in the basement to surprise us and make sure we weren’t cheating. It was our last night prepledging for the semester, so they were trying to make it as hard for us as possible. And they were doing damn good job of that. We’d already been forced to lie on our backs with our hands at our sides while we held our feet up six inches off the ground for thirty minutes at a time. We’d done damn near 500 push-ups and just as many sit-ups. We’d sat in that damn imaginary chair for over an hour. And we’d been stuck in this all-fours position for what seemed like eternity. I was hoping one of the Kappas would come downstairs and ask us to do something different. Anything. But each time one of them came in and saw us agonizing, they all basically said the same thing.
“Oooh!” one Kappa said. “Looks like that’s painful. Y’all stay there for a little while longer!”
“Ouch!” another Kappa said. “I remember these days! Can’t feel your arms anymore, can you? Don’t trip. You’ll be okay in a few days. Just stay there for now.”
“Whooooo!” Konceited said. “Man! That’s fucked up. Your knees and your elbows feel like shit, huh? They’re probably all black and blue by now and all that. You’re sweating. One of y’all funky asses farted. That’s messed up ’cause I’m about to go outside and get some fresh air, but y’all gon’ be down here all night! We’re kicking it upstairs, too. The baddest chicks on campus. All the liquor you can drink and wings you can eat, thanks to you guys kicking in so generously. As much as I’d like to stay down here and listen to y’all whine, I got about three chicks upstairs who wanna get freaky with me…at the same time! Ha! I’m out. Dex will be down to deal with y’all in a few minutes.”
We hadn’t seen Dex since we’d been there. I was actually hoping I wouldn’t have to. I wasn’t sure if he’d gotten over getting hit by my surprise haymaker. I figured since I’d gotten invited to come back, maybe he’d had time to think things over and realize he was wrong in the first place. But with Dex, you could never really be too sure. And after a few drinks, there was really no tellin’. I hoped for the best, but expected the worst. When Dex came down the stairs, he brought about eight or nine other Kappas with him.
“Damn, you guys stink!” one of them said. “Y’all some ol’ funky boys!”
“And pitiful, too,” another said. “Look at ’em, shaking and sweating like they’ve really been doing something. Groaning and wimpering and shit. Y’all ain’t even officially on line yet! This is like a three on a scale of ten. Y’all ain’t seen nothing yet.”
All of the guys were standing behind us talking, so I couldn’t see who was saying what. Not until Dex made his way to the front. He was standing right in front of me. He was so close, I could damn near smell his feet through his loafers. For a second, I thought he was gonna do something crazy, like kick me in the face or something. Then it was gonna have to be royal rumble up in that piece. I braced my face for the impact, just in case.
“Y’all can stand up now,” Dex said. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my bruhs.”
It was a struggle just making it to my feet. And standing up straight was even more excruciatin
g. When I finally got my balance, I was looking Dex right in his eye. He stared me down, obviously trying to intimidate me. But it didn’t work. I didn’t flinch. I did however notice that he was holding what looked like a nightstick in his right hand. Although I couldn’t see the Kappas behind me, even with the loud thud of the bass coming from the speakers upstairs, I could hear them murmuring to one another.
“That’s the guy who stole on him in Miami,” one of them said.
“Yeah, the one he’s standing in front of,” another confirmed.
“I’d knock him out if I was him,” a third said.
That’s when Dex started stretching his arms, swinging them side to side as if he was loosening them up to punch me. I held my ground. All of a sudden, a much older, larger Kappa wearing a jacket with a Fall ’93 patch on the sleeve came over and stood next to Dex, who was still ice grilling me. The older Kappa had to have been about six-four, at least two hundred and forty pounds. He was twice my size.
Next Semester Page 19
