“Hi, sweetie,” she says, turning to look at me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, just a little sad I guess. When you get as old as me you get sad sometimes.” She sighs heavily as she looks at the back of her hands, then turns them over to see the other side. I’m not sure what she’s looking at or what it means.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nods. “Laurence’s funeral is tomorrow night at the church,” she says slowly. She looks back up at me. It is obvious to see she’s been crying.
“Umm, I was thinking maybe I’d go with you. Is that okay?”
She smiles. “Sure it is.”
I see the shine of gladness in her eyes. She isn’t exactly happy, but I can tell she feels a little better. Then we don’t say anything for a little while. “Do you want some more tea or something?” I ask. She shakes her head no, then assures me again that she is okay. Then we do the whole “how was your first day at work” and “don’t let it interfere with your schoolwork” thing. After that I tell her I have a lot of homework to do, but really I just don’t want to be there anymore.
I go up to my room and collapse on my bed and just lie there with my eyes closed. I don’t know how long I lay there. I am thinking about my grandmother. She looked so troubled. I grab my phone and call Terrence, but don’t get an answer. Then, what Gia said popped into my head. Terrence had gotten messed up. I have no idea what that means or even who did it. I sit up, grab my cell again and text him. I wait a few minutes for a reply. Then, figuring I won’t hear from him anyway, I toss the phone on the bed beside me and open my English Lit book.
Just as I start to read The Great Gatsby, I hear the sound of constant ticking coming from the hallway. I get up and go out into the hall to look around. That’s when I see Jade’s bedroom door is cracked. She’s hardly ever here anymore, and sometimes I forget this is her home, too. I walk down the hall and peek in. She is sitting at her desk on her laptop. I knock, push the door wider and go in.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming home today. What are you doing here?” I ask, plopping down on her bed and genuinely happy to see my big sister. Jade always has a way of changing my perspective when I have a problem and making it better. Even though we didn’t always get along as cousins, I think we’re a lot closer as sisters. She looks up at me and then goes back to typing.
“Not now,” she says vehemently.
“I was just asking a question.”
“I’m doing nothing, okay, I’m minding my own business,” she says sarcastically, without looking back up at me again.
I can tell this was going to be one of those conversations. We have them sometimes. “What’s with the stick up your ass? Damn, I just came in to say hi.”
“Yeah, whatever, hi,” she says, in typical Jade style.
Okay, ordinarily I’d just walk away at this point. When Jade is in a mood, she can be brutal. And God help anyone in her way. But I know I haven’t done anything to her, so I don’t mind hanging around and prying. The alternative is reading the Gatsby. Anyway, I know something is up by the way she is so distracted and typing. “So like what, you can’t mind your own business hanging out with Tyrece in New York or Atlanta or L.A. anymore?” I say. She stops typing and looks up at me. I know right then what Jalisa and Diamond said was true. “Shit, it’s true, isn’t it? Ya’ll broke up, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, we did,” she says, averting her attention back to the keyboard and monitor.
“Damn. Jade, I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” she half mutters.
“Just because I am, I guess. I thought ya’ll were like the perfect couple. His eyes sparkled whenever he looked at you.”
“Well, not anymore, I guess.”
“So what happened?” I ask. She doesn’t say anything. “Was it really Taj like they say?”
She stops typing again and turns around. I’m sitting on the bed watching her. She looks at me funny like she has no idea who I am. “Are you interviewing me now so you can blog or post this on some internet site?”
“What? No, of course not,” I say, instantly affronted. I’m hurt she would even think I’d do that. “Why would you even say something like that? I would never tell anybody anything you told me, ever. We’re sisters.”
“Yeah, okay, fine, it’s just that everybody I talk to about this winds up repeating it on Facebook or Twitter or someplace else. Everybody wants to know what happened between us. I’m so sick of all this stupid drama. We broke up. It’s no big deal. People do it all the time. Right now, I just want to take the night off to hide from all of it. That’s why I came here.”
“Well, this is the perfect place to hide out. You know nobody comes here except Grandmom’s bingo friends, and you know what they’re like. Reporters better not get in your face here.” We laugh, knowing how intimidating and assertive our grandmother and her friends can be when they want to. “If you’re hungry, I brought a pizza home with me. I’m working at Giorgio’s Pizza Place.”
“Yeah, I heard. Grandmom told me you were a working girl now. When did all that happen?”
“Monday after school, they had an opening, so I applied and got the job. It’s no big deal really. I’m just getting pocket change to help out around here.”
“You helping out, yeah, right,” she says sarcastically.
“Yeah, I can help out, too,” I say.
“So how are you going to work here and go to school in Virginia?” she asks, going back to her typing.
“I’m not. I’m gonna stay at Penn Hall.”
“What?” she says as she stops typing. “Why would you do that? You finally got back into the school you wanted and now you’re quitting and staying at Penn. What happened?”
“Yeah, I got in, but now Dad can’t afford the tuition. Business is pretty bad with the economy slowing down and all.”
“What about getting a scholarship or a school voucher?”
“Nah, I don’t want that,” I say.
“Ashamed or embarrassed?” she asks.
I nod. “Both,” I say honestly. There isn’t much point in lying to Jade or to myself anymore.
“I figured that, but I guess at least you owned up to it.” She goes back to typing again.
“But it’s not like I’m embarrassed and ashamed about getting it. It’s how they’re gonna treat me when I do, like they pity me,” I say.
“You mean the same way you treated other scholarship students when you were there? You pitied them, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, all right, I get it,” I say. “What goes around, comes around, right. I always felt sorry for the scholarship students, so now all this comes back to bite me in the butt.”
“All right, as long as you already know it,” she says, smugly.
When Jade is in her shitty mood she is vicious and anyone around her is liable to get trashed in the process. “Yeah, whatever,” I say, getting tired of her acid attitude. I get up to walk out. Then I stop. “I have a question for you. Did Mom have insurance policies or money when she died?”
“What?” she asks, looking at me again.
“Insurance money. Courtney was talking about how Mom had all these insurance policies.”
“Who’s Courtney?” she asks.
“Dad’s girlfriend, the boys’ and Barbara’s mother.”
Jade smirks. “I still can’t believe he got her to name his baby after Mom. She must be an idiot.”
“She is, but that’s another story. Did Mom leave policies?”
“Yes.”
“So where are they, where’s the money?”
“Tied up,” she says. “Nobody can get to it.”
“Except you, right?” I say. She looks at me funny, like she was going to say something then changed her mind. “So what if I needed some of it now, how do I get it?”
“You don’t.”
“Why not?” I ask, determined to get an answer from her.
“Because it’s for co
llege. Damn, you are so selfish and self-centered, Kenisha. Just suck it up. Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with drama going on in their life right now.”
“I never said I was.” I defend myself quickly.
“You didn’t have to. I see what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get money to go to Hazelhurst, right? That’s all you ever think about—going back to your so-called ‘perfect life.’”
“I said I was staying at Penn,” I rebut forcefully.
“Only until you can find a way to go back there. But you’re gonna have to find another way ’cause you’re not getting access to the accounts,” she says.
“Forget this,” I say. I am headed out, but then it hits me to ask Jade about the bills. But right now, no way. “I don’t need your help. I can do this by myself.”
“Fine, do it,” she says.
“Fine, I will,” I repeat, then storm out. I don’t need her anyway. As soon as I get to my bedroom I hear my cell phone ring. I grab it and answer. No one says anything at first, and then a few seconds later a female voice says my name. “Kenisha.”
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“You need to give me my money back.”
“Excuse me, what?”
“You heard me. I want my money.”
“You have the wrong number.”
“I know who I’m talking to. You are Kenisha Lewis and I know where you live. I suggest you get my money, now.”
I press the end button and drop my cell like it’s on fire. My hands are shaking. I look around my bedroom quickly. I get the eerie feeling I am being watched. I look down at my cell again. I pick it up and press the last incoming call button. It registers as “Private Caller.” My heart thunders in my chest, and my stomach quivers and flops. WTF. “What the hell was that? What money?”
CHAPTER 11
What Lies Beneath
“Like ripples in a pond. Toss a stone and watch the result. Drama always goes big. Ultimately, there are more important things in life.”
—Twitter.com
I never did do my homework last night. After that stupid phone call, I just laid back until I eventually fell asleep. I was fully dressed and the lights were still on when I woke up. So now it’s lunchtime and I have exactly twenty minutes to read these chapters and answer the questions. I decide to hit the school library so I can concentrate. It’s basically where all the nerd and computer geeks hang out reading comic books and talking computer stuff. Which translates to mean they’re hiding and trying to avoid getting beat down. I figured it didn’t matter since they’d be in their world and I’d be in mine.
So I am sitting in one of the back areas of the library trying to avoid drama, and don’t you know drama comes right over and sits down right next to me. Well, not actually next to me, but close enough. Drama is standing two aisles over and right behind where I’m sitting.
At first I’m not paying any attention to what they are saying. I figure it is either some horny couple wanting to do their thing in semiprivate or a couple of idiots reading out loud. Then they kinda get louder, ’cause now they are almost arguing. It sounds like it is two guys and a girl and it takes me a few minutes to figure out what they are talking about. They are bragging about how they broke in someplace and how they are planning on doing it again this weekend. My jaw drops. My mouth is wide open. I can’t believe what I am hearing. The first thing I think about is when Ursula told me the police were questioning students about the break-ins in the neighborhood. Oh, shit. I seriously should not be here right now, if they see me…
Then, even though my cell was on vibrate, it still makes a noise. Somebody is calling me. I grab it and stuff it in my pocket. Apparently they didn’t hear it because they just keep right on talking. I don’t really recognize any of the voices. But I know if I stay they’d know I was there and heard them talking. There is only one way out of the back area and one way in. I quickly gather my stuff and ease around the table. Just then, a couple of other students come running through the aisle laughing and throwing something between them.
The conversation ends abruptly and one of the guys comes out from behind the stacks. Peeking through the books, I see who it is, but at the time he doesn’t see me. The two kids playing around run past me and bump right into him. A slight shoving match begins as threats of bodily injuries are leveled. “What the hell are you doing back here, punk?” Boyce demands. Neither one of the two guys responds. They look like ninth graders and I swear they are about to pee their pants. They are petrified. But hell, I would be, too. It was Boyce. “I asked you a question, bitch,” he adds.
One kid starts crying, and the other mumbles something I can’t hear. They are both scared to death. “Damn right, nothing. Now get your asses out of here before I kick ’em,” he demands.
Boyce is focused on threatening the two kids, so I turn around and pretend like I am just getting there. I try to ignore what was going on by quickly sticking my earbuds in my ears. I sit down and open my Great Gatsby book, ignoring everybody. But for real I am scared, too. See, this is why I hate this place.
Everybody eventually leaves. They ignored me, thank God. So I stay there the rest of the period. My earbuds are locked in, but my music is off. I still don’t do my homework. I am looking around at the shelves of books and wondering what the hell I am doing here. This isn’t my school and this isn’t my world.
My cell rings again. I look at the caller ID, but don’t answer since most people usually have sense enough not to call me during school hours. It reads, “Private Caller.” My heart jumps. Yeah, there is definitely no way I am answering. I turn my phone all the way off and stick it in the bottom of my bag. A few seconds later, the bell rings. I almost jump out of my skin. Two more classes and the day will be over. But hell, it is only Wednesday.
I leave the library and head to English Lit. I still didn’t do my homework. It’s no big deal since our teacher doesn’t even collect it and just tells us to use it as a study guide for an upcoming test. My last class is Chemistry. The teacher is crazy. He jokes the whole time we’re there. We study the periodic table and periodic law. Believe it or not, I really like the class.
By the end of the day, I am through. I don’t go to my locker since I’m really not up for dealing with Troy and his boys. I don’t have to work, so I go home and just chill out online with my girls. We instant message each other for about forty minutes and then my cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID. I tell my girls I’ll catch up with them later and then answer. “Hello.”
“Hey, it’s me,” Terrence says.
“I know, hi,” I say, a little shocked by the phone call.
“What’s up?”
Seriously, how do I answer that question? But he doesn’t wait for an answer. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “I heard you got a job at Giorgio’s,” he says. Of course I knew Gia told him. Who else would?
“Yeah, yesterday was my first day.”
“How was it?”
“It was a lot harder than I thought it would be,” I say honestly. “There’s a lot of running around and filling things up and whipping things off. I made about a million French fries.” He starts laughing. The sound of his laughter reminds me of better times when we used to hang out together.
“Yeah, I remember that part,” he says.
“What do you mean, you remember it? How?”
“I worked at Giorgio’s a couple of years ago. He still calls me in if he gets really jammed up and I’m available.”
“I didn’t know you worked there before.”
“There’re a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m starting to see that,” I say. “I saw Gia last night. She was there with some of her friends. She told me you were in some kind of trouble. So what’s going on? Is this trouble what you never want to talk to me about?” I ask. The line goes silent for a while. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Gia shouldn’t hav
e said anything to you.”
“She didn’t. She just said you got messed up. She didn’t elaborate. Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, what you told her?” I say, emphasizing the last word.
“It’s no big deal. I’m taking care of it.”
“So you’re still not gonna tell me.” Again the line goes quiet. I know he is still there this time. “Fine,” I say.
“Look, don’t worry about it, it’s over.”
“Okay,” I say. He obviously isn’t going to tell me, so I let it drop, again. “So, how’d you know I was working? Gia tell you we talked?”
“Nah, Li’l T told me.”
I smile to myself. “Figures, he knows everything about everybody. I wanted to tell you myself, but I wasn’t sure if we were…” I don’t end the sentence.
“You weren’t sure if we were what?” he prompts.
“If we were talking or if it even mattered. You and I aren’t exactly hitting it off the last few weeks. Ever since that thing with Darien that night we’ve been kind of off.”
“It’s just things in my head I needed to get straight.”
I don’t say anything this time. “So are we gonna be okay, still friends?” I ask tentatively.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” he says impatiently. “But I gotta go.”
“Are you gonna be around later?” I ask.
“Yeah, the funeral’s tonight. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, me, too, I’m going with my grandmother. She and Mr. Russell were really close.”
“Are you going to be okay?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Your mom’s funeral was just a couple of months ago.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’ll be fine,” I say. I know already that isn’t true. I really don’t want to go to this, but my grandmother needs me and I’m not sure what kind of mood Jade will be in. So I need to be there for her.
Getting Played Page 10
