With Friends Like These

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

“Man, this is cool,” Jasmine said as we sat down.

  I looked around the small TV studio. There was a crowd of about thirty teenagers. I recognized a few people from around the area, but for the most part, I had never seen most of the people here.

  Camille was actually doing her first live show. She said the others were taped, so this was a big deal. But she was such a natural, I knew she’d do fine.

  “Okay, everyone stand by. We’re on in five minutes,” some short, stocky man came out and shouted.

  I felt myself getting all excited, especially when I saw my girl come out onstage. She saw us and waved, and we all eagerly waved back.

  “You all know her?” some girl behind us leaned in and asked.

  “Yeah, we’re best friends,” Angel proudly responded.

  “Wow, that is so cool,” the girl said.

  We smiled as we turned back and watched the makeup artist dab Camille’s face. I was so happy to see her on that stage. At that very moment I was really happy that she was the one who had gotten the job, however she’d gotten it. She wanted it a lot more than I did, and she was probably a whole lot better than I ever would’ve been.

  The lights in the studio dimmed, and music started playing, I assumed that meant the show was about to start.

  We all leaned back and watched Camille get into her zone, which she was really good at.

  The director gave a countdown, and Camille took off.

  “What’s up, everybody? This is your girl Camille Harris with another edition of Teen Talks, and today’s show is going to be hot, hot, hot! So kick your shoes off and get ready for a show that everybody will be talking about tomorrow.”

  I looked at Jasmine and smiled. Even she had a proud look on her face.

  “Well, let’s not waste any time,” Camille continued. “Today we’re talking about something you rarely hear about—teenage boosters. That’s right, teens who steal, everything from clothes to electronics. But we’re taking this discussion one step further by talking about teens who then turn right around and sell the stuff, raking in big bucks. It’s the new thing to do, but as some teens are finding out, there’s a huge price to pay.”

  The audience seemed on the edge of their seats. Me, Jasmine, and Angel were in shock, too.

  “I know she is not doing this,” I hissed.

  Jasmine stared straight ahead, stunned.

  “Take a look at our TV monitors,” Camille continued, pointing to a big screen in the corner. Up popped a mug shot of our friend Trina King, a former Good Girlz member. She was the one who had gotten us caught up in the whole boosting scheme.

  “Seventeen-year-old Trina King is doing hard time for her boosting business,” Camille continued. Trina would die if she knew that picture was on TV. Her head was cocked to the side. Her hair was all over her head, and of course she was wearing a frown. She looked like a hard-core criminal. “As you can see,” Camille said. “Trina was arrested and charged with multiple counts of theft. She was charged as an adult. Now, for the next twenty-two years, she’ll spend her days on lockdown. No prom. No dates. No graduation. And for what? Some free Baby Phat T-shirts?”

  The audience started mumbling and shaking their heads.

  “I know. Pretty sad, huh?” Camille said as she started moving toward the audience. The camera followed her. “With us today we have some other teens who were caught up in that same boosting ring that sent Trina to jail.”

  I almost died when Camille walked over to us, and the camera moved to capture me, Angel, and Jasmine. All three of us still looked like we were in shock.

  I absolutely could not believe Camille was doing this to us.

  “Now, let me be clear. These teens have paid their debt to society.” She pointed to us. “They got off easy, so we’re hoping they’ll share their stories with us,” Camille said. “Alexis, you were best friends with Trina. Both of you are from very rich families. Maybe you can shed some light on why someone would do this, especially someone who doesn’t have to.”

  Camille moved the microphone into my face. Every eye in the audience was on me.

  “I, umm, I…,” I couldn’t get any words out. I think if I had been in my right mind, I would’ve gone off, but I was still too shocked to say anything.

  Camille moved the microphone back to her mouth. “I understand since you never actually took anything and were only responsible for selling the stuff, you didn’t think you did anything wrong.”

  “Well…I mean, at the time…I, ummm…I guess I just thought, I don’t know, that it was no big deal,” I struggled to say.

  “No big deal?” Camille said, snatching the microphone away. “Ask Trina is it a big deal.” She dramatically pointed to a monitor before turning to Angel.

  “And Angel, you are a single, unwed teenage mother. Did you take part as a way to feed your child?” Camille said.

  Angel’s chest started heaving up and down. She had asthma, and the way her breathing started sounding heavy, I was worried that she was about to have an attack. She’d kept her asthma at bay lately, but if this didn’t set an attack off, I don’t know what would.

  “Leave her alone!” Jasmine snapped. She jumped up and glared at Camille.

  Camille looked at Jasmine and tried to give her an innocent look. “What? We’re just trying to get to the bottom of the motivation behind boosting.” Camille looked out the corner of her eye and saw the director giving her some kind of hand signal. She nodded and smiled toward the camera. “Didn’t I tell you this show was going to be hot? But we gotta pay the bills, so we have to take a break. But you’d better believe we’ll be right back. Stay with us.” The music came up as the show went to commercial break.

  As soon as the red light went off, Camille leaned in to us and whispered, “Guys, please, please don’t be mad. This is just TV, you know, trying to hype stuff up.”

  I reached out and took Jasmine’s arm, because I could tell she was about to haul off and knock the mess out of Camille.

  “Camille, how could you do this?” I cried as I stepped in front of Jasmine. “Look at Angel.” I pointed to Angel, who had her hand to her chest and was still trying to catch her breath.

  “Come on, y’all. I thought you all would understand,” she said. “You know I didn’t mean anything.”

  “Whatever, Camille. You knew exactly what you were doing,” Jasmine growled.

  “And then how you gon’ put Trina on front street like that?” I added.

  “Trina’s mug shot is a matter of public record,” Camille said matter-of-factly.

  “I thought Tameka was lowdown,” Jasmine said, finally calming down herself. “But you, you take the cake.”

  “Guys,” Camille whispered, turning her back to the rest of the audience. “Don’t be like that. I mean, part of how we learn from our mistakes is by helping others not make the same mistakes.”

  “I didn’t you see you telling anybody you were buying some of the stolen merchandise, too,” Jasmine snapped.

  Camille let out a long breath. “I’m not a part of the story.”

  Just then, a producer walked over. “Camille, this show is off the chain! Do you teens still say off the chain?” He laughed. “Man, I’m so glad you suggested this. This has to be the best one ever!” He patted her back before racing off.

  “So this was all your idea?” I asked, still thinking this was all going to be a bad dream.

  “Camille, please tell us this is all a big misunderstanding,” Angel said, finally catching her breath.

  “I was scared they were gonna pull the show. I had to do something to spice it up. They wanted me to make it hotter,” she said.

  “So you decided to use your friends to do it,” Jasmine said.

  “I was hoping you’d understand.” Camille lowered her head.

  “Fat chance,” Jasmine said.

  “Yeah.” I reached down and grabbed my purse. “I hope this stupid show was worth it.”

  “Yeah, Miss Superstar,” Jasmine added. “You got y
our hot show. And you just lost three friends.”

  I waved for Angel to come on, and all three of us made our way out the studio, ignoring the producer who was running after us, begging us not to leave.

  30

  Alexis

  None of us said a word. We had gathered nearly thirty minutes before our scheduled meeting time to talk about how we were going to handle Camille. Nobody had talked to her since the show yesterday. I think we were all too mad.

  Angel looked at me and said, “I never in a million years would have thought Camille would do something like that.”

  I was so mad I still couldn’t talk. I just didn’t want to believe that Camille used our stories on her show like that.

  “How come she didn’t do one on helping your fugitive boyfriend hide from the law?” Jasmine said. Everyone chuckled at that.

  “Yeah, or what about the current boyfriend being jumped by the ex and his friend?” I added.

  Jasmine shook her head in disgust. “I just can’t believe she’d sell us out like that. First Tameka, now Camille. I tell you, with friends like these, who needs enemies?”

  I looked at Jasmine. She was one to talk. After the way she did me for Tranita, she was just as guilty. I’d tried to put that whole situation behind me when we went to Camille’s show, but shoot, since I was mad, I might as well be mad about everything.

  We sat silently for a few minutes. No one said anything until the door creaked open and Tameka came sulking in. No one had forgiven her for stealing Jasmine’s research paper. We had all stopped talking to her, unless it was absolutely necessary. Rachel made her apologize to the group. She still denied that she took the paper, but she did apologize for her dirty tricks. We still didn’t trust her, and I think she knew there was no way she’d win her way back into our good graces.

  “Hey, guys,” she said. “I saw the show. That’s messed up, what Camille did.”

  When no one responded, she plopped in a chair, pulled out some book called Simply Divine, and buried her face in it.

  “So what are we gonna do?” I asked, eyeing the clock. We knew Rachel would be in soon. And we had to wrap it up, because she would only find a way to make a lesson out of all of this. Not to mention, she’d also force us to forgive Camille and try to salvage our friendship. But judging by the look on everyone’s face, I had a feeling that was the very last thing on anyone’s mind.

  Me personally, I wanted to know why she did it in the first place. I mean, why would she use stuff that happened to us, knowing the pain and torture we’ve been through, then broadcast it for all of Houston to see? I just wanted her to answer that one question, then after that, I never cared if I saw her ever again.

  Angel motioned toward the back of the room. “I think under the circumstances, we should pick this conversation up at a later time. Maybe after the meeting we could all go get something to eat, then talk about what our next move should be,” she said.

  “Oh, so now y’all don’t even want to talk around me?” Tameka asked, looking up from her book.

  “I thought you were busy reading,” I said. She sucked her teeth and turned her attention back to the book.

  By the time Rachel entered the room, we had all decided we’d pick up the conversation later at dinner. Rachel walked to the front of the room after saying hello to us.

  “Ladies, we have some issues we need to work out,” she started.

  We looked at each other and smirked. If only she knew.

  “Before we get started, I have something to say.” Everyone turned to the back of the room. Tameka closed her book and stood up.

  “This is my last meeting. I no longer feel welcome here, and I just wanted you guys to know I’m moving on,” she said.

  I gave her a look like I hope she didn’t think someone was going to beg her to stay. Shoot, she was just lucky we’d gotten busy and hadn’t gotten around to paying her back for her dirty tricks.

  “Tameka,” Rachel finally said, “are you sure about this? We’d hate to see you go.”

  Tameka looked at us, then back at Rachel. “You’re probably the only person in here who would hate to see me go. I believe that everyone else can’t wait for me to leave.”

  Rachel looked at us like she wanted us to say something. I, for one, was not about to fake the funk. I could care less if Tameka left.

  “Well, I’d like you to give it some more thought,” Rachel said.

  Angel folded her arms, and Jasmine rolled her eyes. I just sat there quietly, waiting for the girl to pick up her stuff and leave. No point in threatening to leave and you still standing there waiting for someone to beg you to stay.

  “Girls, don’t you think Tameka should reconsider leaving?” Rachel asked. I’m sure she was sorry she even asked, because the room was so quiet, you could probably hear a pin drop.

  Tameka bit her lips as her eyes filled with water. “Auntie, I’m gonna call my mom in your office to come get me.”

  “Are you sure about this, Tameka?”

  Tameka nodded.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Rachel asked.

  Tameka shook her head, shot us one last pitiful look, then left the room.

  Rachel turned to us sadly. “What is going on with you guys? That was so rude. And your attitudes stink. Is this about the show?”

  “So you saw it, too?” I said.

  “Actually, I didn’t, but Shereen told me all about it. And I talked to Camille. She feels really bad.”

  “She should,” I said.

  “And she don’t feel too bad, seeing as how she ain’t here,” Jasmine added.

  “She’s not here because she couldn’t bear to face you all,” Rachel said.

  “That was very smart,” Jasmine growled. “Camille ain’t no real friend.”

  My anger at Camille was starting to shift. With Jasmine sitting over there acting all holy, I was getting mad at her all over again. Finally, I said, “No, you didn’t talk about somebody being a real friend.”

  “Excuse me?” Jasmine sat up in her seat.

  “You heard me,” I replied. “You sold me out, too. For Tranita. You coulda let me know what was going on.”

  Jasmine scooted to the edge of her chair. I could tell I had really made her mad. “I tried to tell you from jump. But no, you all big and bad, saying ‘me and Jaquan gon’ be together whether you like it or not.’ So don’t blame me if you got played.” She flicked her hand at me and rolled her eyes.

  “You still coulda told me.” I folded my arms. “I was supposed to be your friend.”

  “And Jaquan is my brother.”

  Rachel rubbed her head like she had a serious headache. “Please, would you all stop it? What has happened to you guys? You’ve turned into people I don’t even know. What about forgiveness? You all made some mistakes, why can’t we forgive each other and move forward.”

  “I ain’t did nothing,” Jasmine snapped, leaning back in her seat. “You need to be talking to the lying, back-stabbing, sell-out other girls.”

  Rachel sighed. “How can we fix this?” She looked at each of us. No one said anything.

  Finally, I said, “We can’t.” It hurt, but I meant that from the bottom of my heart. As far as I was concerned, my friendships with the Good Girlz had come to an end.

  31

  Camille

  I waited until I heard the phone ringing. When the heavyset nurse picked up the phone, I walked quickly past the nurses’ station and slid into room 321 at the Sugar Land Methodist Hospital. I used the balloon bouquet to shield my face.

  Once I was inside, I suddenly regretted my great plan to get in and see Walter. He was sitting up in bed. His mother was standing over him, fussing with the sheets that covered his body.

  “I’m so glad you’ll be getting out of here, sweetheart,” she said.

  When Walter looked up at me, he smiled. “Camille,” he said.

  His mother immediately turned toward me. “How did you get in here?” she snapped. She leaned over to
try and get the nurse’s call button. “Walter, we need security in here this instant.”

  Walter pushed the button out of his mother’s reach. “Don’t do that,” he said.

  His mother tightened her lips and shot him an evil look. “I want her tossed out. She’s the reason you’ve been in here for nearly three weeks.”

  “Mom, please don’t. I need to talk to her. I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Walter said.

  I finally felt good about my decision to sneak into the hospital to see him. I’d been thinking about it for quite a few days, but I was afraid because I knew his parents were furious with me. Finally, I decided to take my chances because I was missing him so bad.

  “Come in, Camille,” Walter said. “Thanks for the balloons.” I couldn’t move from my spot at the door. I didn’t want to be anywhere near his mother, especially since she had a look like she wanted to kill me. And looking at Walter in that hospital bed, I can’t say that I really blamed her. The color had returned to his cheeks, but there were still dark circles around his eyes, and his chest was all bandaged up. His bottom lip had stitches across it, and his arm was in a cast.

  “Mom, just give me a minute, please,” he said.

  She sighed. “Fine.” She grabbed her purse and tossed me a disgusted look. “I’m going to the cafeteria. When I get back, I want her gone. You remember what we talked about, son,” she said to Walter before kissing his cheek and rushing by me to get out of the room.

  I slowly walked in. I placed the balloons next to the cards and flowers on the windowsill. Then I walked over to his bed, not knowing quite what to say to him. It was my fault he was in here, and I couldn’t say sorry enough.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he finally said, with his dimples showing and melting my heart at the same time. “I’m sure I look worse than I feel. I’m going home tomorrow.”

  I was glad I had gotten to see him now, because once he got home, it was probably going to be next to impossible.

  “I’ve missed you, and I’m so sorry,” I said as my eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” I reached down to hug him. He flinched in pain, so I backed off.