16 Isn't Always Sweet

by Cassandra Carter

  “See, that’s exactly why I’m happy to be an only child. Plus, I don’t even know where my dad is.”

  “Man! You’re going to have to call me tomorrow as soon as you get done and tell me how it went. Do you think you can get some pictures for me? Ooh, or you know what, maybe an autograph?”

  “Nope.”

  “Come on!” Jordan pleaded as she squeezed the phone between her ear and her shoulder to free her hands.

  “Shut up. You’re coming with me.”

  “But I just told you. My parents are not having it.” She was beginning to break down under the threat of consequences. Something this big was sure to land her in serious trouble.

  “And I’m telling you.”

  “What if they see it? You know, later, down the line? It’s not like I can deny it.”

  “Then what’s done is done. But I doubt that’ll happen. How often do your parents really watch BET or MTV?”

  “Never.” Jordan laughed.

  “All right, then. Look, Jordan, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been crazy about Jadian Brown. I know you’re not really going to pass up meeting him, maybe being in a video, all for some stupid basketball game. Would you just stop and listen to what you’re saying for a minute? There will always be another Saturday to go watch your brother. This is your turn to make everybody watch you.”

  “If you say so.” Jordan sighed.

  “And, man, I’m going to have to stop messing with you if you didn’t already figure a way to get yourself out of this. I really can’t be stressing like this. You’re going to fuck around and make me break out,” Adrienne said. Jordan pictured her friend examining her face for pimples in the mirror.

  “Well…” Jordan shot up in bed, and her eyebrow darted for her hairline once again.

  “Atta girl. I knew you had it in you.”

  “Do you have any idea how long I’m about to be on punishment for this if I get caught?” Jordan asked, though she was really asking herself. She shuddered at the thought of being confined for several weeks inside the very four walls she was looking at now, but she pushed her fears aside. Seeing Jadian would be enough to justify sacrificing her freedom.

  “So? Then don’t get caught.”

  Adrienne was right. It was critical that everything go as planned. Still, Jordan realized that she had to be ready for anything.

  She tiptoed to her door and poked her head out, scanning the hallway for anyone who might intrude. Tariq especially loved to play private investigator and spy on her. Satisfied with her findings, she retreated and shut her door, pressing the small button by the knob and breaking the “no locked doors” rule of the house. Even with that precaution in effect, she chose to whisper as she outlined her scheme to her partner in crime. “All right, here’s the plan.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Jordan’s feet danced on the freezing tile floor of the hallway bathroom as she tried her hardest to block out the horrible taste of the concoction in her mouth. The mixture of Ritz crackers, a can of tuna fish, chicken broth and old pickle juice she’d found in the dark depths of their refrigerator was not at all pleasant, especially at 10:30 a.m., but she knew she would need evidence to back up her claim of food poisoning. She held back the urge to spit as she heard footsteps, and took the steaming hot washcloth from her forehead. The Wright family had been bustling about the house preparing to go to Tariq’s basketball game, and someone realized she was missing.

  As she let go of the foul mixture, she held her body far from the toilet to amplify the sound effects. Her gagging and choking came naturally.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She almost wanted to smile when she saw her mother rushing her way. From the worried look on her face, she was already buying her act.

  “I think I ate something bad at the mall yesterday.”

  “Mmm, come here.” She pulled her close as she turned her hand to press it against her daughter’s forehead. “Yeah, I was wondering why you didn’t come down when I called you for breakfast earlier. I just thought you were mad about…well, you know.”

  “No…I just…Ow…I just want to lay down.” She grabbed her stomach as if something were trying to eat its way out, and her face twisted in false pain. “Tell Riq I said good luck?”

  She fought to keep from running. She was only three steps from her room when her mother’s voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “Who said you’re still not going with us?”

  “Mom…”

  “Jordan Chari Wright, I swear, if you’re trying to go to that little video thing or whatever—”

  Jordan started choking and threw in a groan for the sake of her performance. She was relieved when her father called from the bottom of the stairway, ordering them to come along before Tariq was late. Her parents didn’t have time to interrogate her thoroughly, and she was still in her pajamas. Jordan was proud of her masterful timing for what was playing out right before her eyes.

  Her mother didn’t say another word to her. She simply shooed Jordan toward her room and burned a stare into her that reminded her just how angry her mother could get. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing from Olivia Wright, not even Jordan’s father. Her four-foot-ten frame could chase his towering six feet around their house for hours when she had an issue to discuss.

  Jordan’s breaths came slowly as she held her ear to her bedroom door to listen for the departure of her family. Five minutes had gone by and no one had come knocking at her door. She stuck her head into the hall first, then paused. She heard nothing.

  She tiptoed quietly down each step and bent low to pull the curtain back from a living room window. She could feel her impulse for adventure taking over at the sight of the deserted driveway. Their white minivan was nowhere in sight.

  Jordan glanced at the clock on the wall and immediately stripped off her pajamas to reveal curve-hugging jeans and a top that was folded to show off her navel. She despised the fact that she couldn’t get her belly button pierced until she was eighteen; it was frustrating to see so many of her friends with piercings.

  She shook her hair wildly after freeing it from the claws of her hair clip and teased it by grazing her nails against her scalp. She dabbed on a bit of lip gloss, pulled on her stiletto boots and was ready to go by the time Adrienne pulled her Honda up to the curb.

  She dashed out of the house and dropped her keys in her excitement as she went to lock the door. She could hear the bass of Jadian’s latest project vibrating the coupe, and as she got closer she made out the words. Jordan could barely keep her composure. She was sure her birthday wish was kicking in now, as unbelievable as it was.

  In the parking lot of a loft downtown, Adrienne came close to running over the block of cement marking the head of their space. They’d just arrived and they could already hear the chatter coming from the array of women standing in what appeared to be a mile-long line.

  “We are never going to get in there before my parents get home!” Jordan’s heart sank, and all hope was gone at the sight of her competition.

  “Yes, we will. We have to. We didn’t come all this way for nothing. Plus, remember what ol’ Frankie boy said, they’re going to cut the line at some point, so come on.” Adrienne ditched her coat and braved the brisk weather of an Atlanta winter in nothing but closed-toe stilettos, shorts and a strapless lace top with nothing underneath.

  “Damn, Adrienne.” Jordan put her hands over her eyes after seeing her friend’s brazen outfit.

  “What? Oh, this?” Adrienne said as she looked herself over. “Girl, I’m trying to get a part for real. Shit, I was watching this show on VH1, and there’s money in this. You just gotta get camera time and have people notice you.”

  “That’s all fine and good, but you ain’t cold?” Jordan pulled the zipper on her jacket higher. She had mastered the girl-next-door look, but fell short of a seductive vixen.

  “Jordan, it’s at least a hundred other bitches who done been in there,
and even more to go. It’s crucial you stand out. You know, leave a lasting impression.”

  Jordan didn’t hesitate to follow Adrienne, who had her game face on. She managed to squeeze them into the line with fake smiles and worthless conversation just in time to catch the eye of a patrolling security guard.

  Adrienne casually drew the thirtysomething man into the conversation, and after a lengthy flirtatious exchange he escorted the two girls to the front of the line. Jordan idolized her for getting them indoors in less than an hour.

  Jordan’s nerves were frayed, and her knees were locked to keep her upright. She and Adrienne had just finished their auditions less than ten minutes apart from each other and now they waited in suspense to hear the outcome. Adrienne had come through on her end with the fake IDs, allowing them to remain while girls their age were turned away. Their palms were clammy, but their grip on each other was solid as they exchanged glances and smiles of encouragement.

  Jordan was sure she could feel her body quitting on her as a stone-faced casting director stood and began to call off numbers rapidly, like an auctioneer. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she would hear her number.

  Jordan listened to the monotonous tone of the casting director and the footsteps of hopefuls who had been eliminated as they collected their things. Tension seemed to replace the oxygen in the room, as one of his assistants held her hand to his ear and whispered something every girl in the room would’ve loved to hear.

  “Ninety-six, one-oh-two, and one-oh-four and one-oh-seven, you may leave and unfortunately that concludes our selection process. But we want to thank you all for coming out and wish you better luck next time.”

  Jordan’s eyebrows came together in the middle of her forehead. She couldn’t believe Adrienne had just let go of her hand and was now exiting the room. It pained her to see her friend shove past the remaining finalists and tear her number into pieces. Her angry exit left the occupants of the room in an awkward silence. Jordan watched the paper debris descend from the air to scatter over the scratched hardwood floor like snow.

  “Congratulations!” Adrienne was all smiles when she pulled Jordan into a hug and rocked her from side to side in the parking lot. Jordan had expected to have to comfort her, but to her surprise, Adrienne seemed to now be taking her rejection rather well.

  “Are you okay?” She made sure to look her friend in the eye for any signs that she was holding back.

  “Pshh! Yeah, I was just doing it for fun anyways. Don’t nobody really care about that wack-ass video.”

  “Yeah, same here.” Jordan played along to cushion the blow to Adrienne’s ego.

  “So, what’d they say? When am I going to see you on TV?”

  “Shooting is Tuesday, but we’re not supposed to tell anybody where.”

  “Oh, come on. I won’t tell anybody.” Adrienne playfully stuck her tongue out and bit it while Jordan shot her a look of disbelief.

  “Anyway, I’m going to need you to get me all my work from my classes that day so I don’t fall behind. I’m going to have to watch my damn mailbox like a hawk with all these unexcused absences I’m racking up.”

  “You skipped class with me once this semester, Jordan.”

  “I just don’t want to get in the habit.”

  As the Honda’s engine roared to life, Jordan clicked her seat belt in place. Adrienne whipped the car out of the parking space, her erratic driving putting Jordan on edge. Adrienne was obviously upset, but she was too proud to show it. She was so stubborn she’d rather have died than admit that someone had hurt her feelings.

  Jordan gave her friend space and began biting what was left of her nails to nubs. She was happy, but she had one more hurdle to overcome: making it home before her parents did.

  In a desperate effort to relax, she angled her head toward the sky and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled inside. Knowing she was one step closer to seeing Jadian was surreal—but it left her exhilarated. Being sixteen was turning out better than she had ever imagined. All her dreams seemed to be coming true.

  CHAPTER 4

  “I’m sorry.” Jordan apologized to an unfamiliar girl in the school hallway after accidentally stepping on the girl’s shoe in her rush. She had to get to Adrienne and fill her in on what had happened after Adrienne had dropped her off on Saturday.

  Her parents had lit into her after passing Adrienne on the road, but they hadn’t arrived home in time to catch Jordan sneaking back. She had needed all the fifteen minutes it had taken her to change her clothes and cover her tracks. She was in bed when they burst through her door, but they couldn’t tell she was shaking with fear under the covers. They had practically trained themselves to see right through her, and usually they did a good job. However, to Jordan’s benefit, Tariq’s team had won their game, and her parents were elated at the outcome.

  “Hey! What happened? Why haven’t you called me?” Adrienne leaned against her open locker door as she greeted her friend, who was still fairly far down the hall.

  “I’m sorry, but I ended up having to fake being sick all weekend,” Jordan told her. “I didn’t even touch the phone.”

  “So what happened? I think they saw me when I was leaving.”

  “Yeah, they did. I got yelled at and they thought something was up, but I played it off. I seriously thought I was done for.”

  “And they actually believed you? You’re a terrible liar!”

  Jordan nodded in agreement, then laughed.

  “I’m beginning to think I’m a bad influence on you.” Adrienne smirked.

  “How can you say that? You can’t influence me, I’m older. It’s not supposed to work that way.”

  “Hey, you’re only older than me by a few months! I’m closer to being sixteen than you think. I bet if you ask anybody, they’d think I was older than you.” Adrienne spun her combination lock before beginning her trek to class across campus. Jordan followed.

  “From January to May is more than a couple months.”

  “Hey, Jordan, what’s up?” Jordan looked up from their chat to see none other than Michelle Jenkins. She and Michelle had been childhood friends, but not even midway into their freshman year of high school Michelle had dropped Jordan because of her looks and shyness. Jordan had been depressed for months after being dissed when all her friends seemed to be accepted. She still remembered what a nightmare something as simple as choosing where to sit at lunch had been.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Adrienne asked, alarmed at her friend’s suspicious expression.

  “Because I’m trying to figure out why the hell Michelle just said something to me.” Jordan tilted her head to the side, trying to read Adrienne’s nervous body language. There was a time when Michelle called the shots and everyone followed, including Jordan. But as soon as Jordan couldn’t keep up with the clique, she used her ultra popularity and manipulative ways to dispel her.

  “How should I know?”

  “Adrienne…”

  She let out a sigh. “Farrah and Kenya cornered me! What was I supposed to do? I have first period with them!”

  “Oh, great! Now everybody’s going to know!” Jordan cried. It was common knowledge that Kenya Walters, Farrah Harris and Michelle Jenkins were thick as thieves and that none of them could keep a secret to save their lives.

  “Why shouldn’t they? But don’t even trip. I was just chillin’ with them first hour ’cause you know I ain’t about to change for gym.” She laughed, sounding relieved that she’d been found out. “They’re actually pretty cool when you get to know ’em.”

  “No, they’re not. They’re fake as hell.”

  “Yeah, because you were the one they turned their backs on once they got to high school. I know the story.” Adrienne’s words were blunt as she weaved through the bands of hyperactive students in the halls.

  “Well, as you so nicely put it, yeah, they did turn on me. And if I were you I’d watch what you say to them. That clique shit may look
nice from the outside, but they all got problems.”

  “I see we got some haters.”

  “Whatever, say what you want.”

  “Hell yeah…” Adrienne paused briefly, then continued. “But let me guess, you don’t, right?”

  “Nope. Not me.” Jordan playfully smirked.

  “It sure must be nice to be you, then, huh?” She chuckled.

  “You could say that.”

  Adrienne grinned deviously and gently placed her hand on Jordan’s shoulder. Her lips moved, but Jordan had to lean into her and listen close to hear her whisper.

  “I could, but I wouldn’t want to jinx you.”

  Jordan took a seat at the makeshift dressing table tucked away behind a curtain in the corner of the studio. Her white cotton robe hung loosely over her metallic red bikini as she analyzed her reflection. She held her hair as though it were precious and began to brush it. She was in a daze as she fought to gather her thoughts over the constant murmur of voices and the echo of heels on the floor. This wasn’t anything like she imagined, and something told her this wasn’t a good idea. However, she felt she’d come too far to walk away.

  Setting down her brush, she flipped her hair to the side and leaned forward to oil her legs. She rubbed the slick oil upward, lifting her robe so high that any man’s mouth would have watered. She swallowed hard as she peeked around the fabric to a crowd of rambunctious men making catcalls—including the gritty, up-and-coming Yung Fatal.

  Jordan jumped at a gentle tap on her shoulder. One of the producers was ushering her along toward the set. Jordan carefully stepped over the many wires that crisscrossed the floor, and she could feel the heat coming from the lights above.

  She was in awe as she took her place onstage among a number of other women, all of them intimidatingly beautiful. She felt uneasy under the stares of the crew, and a fierce look from the girl beside her only made things worse.