The Pact

by Monica McKayhan

  “It’s okay, I have my dad’s credit card,” Tiffany said, and pulled herself out of the water. “Let’s go.”

  Tiffany’s house was decorated in cream-colored furniture with black accessories. Expensive art hung on every wall, and the carpet was as white as snow.

  “Take your shoes off and leave them in the foyer,” she said. “I’ll get the movies.”

  She disappeared into one of the back bedrooms while Andre, Michelle and I took a seat on the living room floor, a towel underneath our bottoms. We were all still soaking wet from the pool and didn’t want to soil the furniture. Tiffany handed me a stack of movies and then started punching in numbers on the cordless phone. She ordered two pizzas and a bottle of Pepsi.

  I started flipping through the stack of movies and passing them on to Andre.

  “Let’s watch this.” Michelle held an old movie, Friday, in the air.

  “Yeah, let’s watch that,” Andre said. “Even though I’ve seen it a million times, it just gets better and better.”

  Tiffany slipped the movie into the DVD player, and we all laughed our hearts out until the pizza man finally tapped on the door. I grabbed two slices of pepperoni and slapped them onto my plate. I filled my glass with Pepsi, even though I was a diehard Coke man. Andre had finished three slices of cheese pizza before I even had a chance to bite into my first one. Tiffany and Michelle each started off with one slice, and before long, Andre and I had finished off the pepperoni.

  Several hours later, the four of us were old friends, laughing at movies that we’d all seen a million times each. We’d finished watching Friday and Next Friday by early afternoon.

  “Anybody up for Friday After Next?” Tiffany asked after the credits from the previous movie had rolled up the screen.

  “I gotta get home,” Michelle said, and stood. She slipped her flip-flops back onto her feet. “I gotta clean up the house before my mom gets there.”

  “I better get going, too.” I stood. “Andre, you coming?”

  “Nah, man, I’m gonna stay here and check out Friday After Next,” he said.

  Tiffany didn’t seem to mind that Andre was the only one staying, and I couldn’t help laughing inside as I slipped my flip-flops on. I followed Michelle down the wooden steps and across the parking lot. As we passed the pool area, I noticed that it was still crowded. Lots of girls in bathing suits bouncing around in the water. Rena was no longer on her throne; in her place was a redheaded white guy with freckles all over his face.

  When I stepped into the breezeway of our condo unit, I was surprised at what I saw. Rena was sitting on the stairs, her hands clasped beneath her chin. Michelle and I both stopped in our tracks at the sight of her.

  “Hey, Marcus,” Rena said.

  “Rena, what’s up? What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Both Rena and Michelle stared at me, waiting for my response. I didn’t have one. I didn’t know what was going on in this girl’s head.

  “Hey, I’ll catch you later, Michelle,” I said, trying to dismiss her.

  Michelle hesitated for a moment, as if she was waiting to hear the conversation between Rena and me. I gave her a look that said “You can go now.” She sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes at Rena and then tramped on up the stairs.

  “You want to walk over to McDonald’s later for ice cream, Marcus?” Michelle hollered back down the stairs.

  “Yeah, that’s cool. Just come and get me when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be done cleaning up in about an hour,” she said, and then unlocked the door of her unit.

  “What’s up with you and Nerdy Girl?” Rena asked.

  “She’s my friend,” I said. “What’s up with you?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon, Marcus,” she said. “Did you enjoy spending the entire afternoon with little Miss Yellow Bikini?”

  She was jealous. That explained why she was camped out at the bottom of my stairs. I laughed, stepped over her and went up the stairs. She sat there and watched me as I stuck my key in the door.

  “You coming?”

  She stood and walked slowly up the stairs and into my house. Just as I was shutting the door, Michelle stuck her head out of her door, shook it from side to side with her lips pursed. “McDonald’s…ice cream…in an hour.” She sighed and then slammed her door. I shut my door and locked it behind me. Rena stood in the middle of the foyer, waiting for me to tell her where to go.

  “You wanna watch some TV?” I asked.

  “Can I have something to drink, Marcus?”

  “Yeah, okay. You want Cherry Coke or bottled water?”

  “I’ll take some Cherry Coke.”

  I pulled the two-liter bottle out of the refrigerator, grabbed two cups from the cabinet. I poured a cup of Cherry Coke for Rena and passed it to her. She grabbed it and started looking around the house, checking things out.

  “Your mother is a good decorator, Marcus. The house is very pretty.”

  She walked into the hallway and observed the photos on the wall. There were several of me—one of them was my second-grade photo and my two front teeth were missing. Another was my sixth-grade photo and I was sporting a lopsided Afro. Rena talked about how cute I was in the second-grade photo and then turned to me.

  “What was up with your hair in this picture, Marcus?” she asked, pointing to my sixth-grade photo with the nappy Afro.

  “What you mean? I was cute then, too.”

  “If you say so.” Rena started laughing and I had to laugh, too.

  She made her way all the way down the hall and took a peek into my mother’s bedroom.

  “My mom’s room,” I said.

  “Where’s your room?” she asked.

  I nodded toward the room across the hall. She peeked into the bedroom and then went inside, plopped down on my bed.

  “You comfy?” I asked as she made herself at home.

  “Yes, I am, Marcus Carter.” She leaned back on my bed. “What’s your middle name?”

  “Frederick Henry.”

  “Is it Frederick or Henry?” Rena giggled.

  “It’s both…Frederick and Henry.” I laughed. “My name is Marcus Frederick Henry Carter. Marcus, named after Marcus Garvey. Frederick, named after Frederick Douglass, who fought to end slavery. And Henry was my great-grandfather’s name on my father’s side of the family. Anything else?”

  “Nope, nothing else.” She smiled.

  I plopped down on the bed beside her. I brushed her hair out of her face and caressed her cheek.

  “So you were jealous of Tiffany, huh?”

  “What? No, I wasn’t jealous,” she said.

  “What do you call it, then? I come home and see you posted up on my steps. What was that about?”

  “Okay, maybe I was just a little jealous,” she said. “I like you, Marcus.”

  “I like you, too,” I told her, “but what happened the other night at the beach? Why you start tripping like that after we kissed?”

  “I guess I didn’t know I was so attracted to you…until that moment, Marcus. It scared me a little bit.”

  “You don’t have to be scared with me, Rena. I won’t hurt you.”

  She was beautiful, and my heart started to pound as she ran her hand across my waves. Pretty soon, her lips were against mine again, just like they were when we were at the beach. I wanted to pull away, didn’t want to feel uncomfortable again. It had been a long, quiet drive from the beach that night, and I still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. I wanted to pull her arms from around my neck, but they seemed to belong there as her tongue made circles inside my mouth. I gently laid her back onto the bed and was on top of her in an instant, both of us breathing heavily.

  I pulled her lifeguard T-shirt over her head, and she didn’t fight it. In fact, she helped me take it off, and soon she was lying there in her bikini top, chill bumps up and down her arm. I unzipped her khaki shorts and pushed my hand down into th
em. I helped her out of them as they dropped to the floor. I hopped up and shut the blinds. As I pulled my wallet from my top drawer in search of a condom, I took a glance at the beautiful girl stretched out across my bed wearing nothing more than a sexy bikini. I was in the zone. My hormones were out of control as I continued to search for the one condom that I kept in my wallet at all times in case of emergencies like this one.

  “Big Things Poppin’,” the ring tone on my cell phone, interrupted my flow. It was a ring tone that Indigo had insisted on, since she was in love with T.I. At one time, I thought I was going to have to hunt him down and mess him up because she talked about him so much. He was her favorite artist. Out of habit, I grabbed my cell phone out of the pocket of my jeans and looked at the screen.

  Speak of the devil, I thought as I stared at Indigo’s name on the screen. Why was she calling? And why now? Was she psychic or something? Before I could think it through, I hit the green button to answer the call.

  “Hello,” I said, but nobody responded. “Hello…anybody there?”

  She was gone, and so was my mood. I glanced over at Rena, who was patiently waiting for my return.

  “Marcus?” My mother was in the house, and my heart started to beat at an uneven pace. “Marcus, are you home, baby?”

  “Is that your mother?” Rena asked, and immediately started putting her shorts and T-shirt back on.

  I decided to head Mom off at the pass; didn’t want her busting in on us. I stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind me. Mom was in the kitchen, putting groceries up.

  “What you doing, baby?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Let me help you with that. Why don’t you go on in your room and change into some sweats or something? You want me to start dinner?”

  I started placing canned goods on the shelf and the milk and eggs into the refrigerator.

  “No, Marcus, I can start dinner.”

  “Okay, cool. I like your dinner better, anyway.” I laughed way too hard at my own comment. “But go on and get changed into something more comfortable before you start. I’ll put the groceries away.”

  Mom looked at me sideways but did as I said and headed for her bedroom. I hoped that Rena had enough sense to stay in my room until I came back for her. Once Mom had stepped into her room and shut the door, I bolted for my bedroom.

  “I’m sorry, but you gotta get out of here,” I whispered to Rena.

  “I know,” she agreed, and followed me as we tiptoed down the hallway.

  “Marcus, I was thinking…” Mom stepped out of her room and was startled to see Rena and me in the hallway. We were almost there. “Marcus, who is this?”

  “Oh, Ma, this is, uh…this is…”

  “Rena.” She helped me out, because I was at a loss for words. “I’m Rena, Mrs. Carter.”

  “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Rena.” Mom shook Rena’s hand. “I didn’t know that Marcus had company. Are you staying for dinner?”

  “I would love to,” Rena said before I could protest, and then followed my mother into the kitchen.

  “Good, then you can help.” Mom smiled.

  “I would love to help.” Rena was enjoying this.

  “Why don’t you grab the olive oil from the shelf, pour a little into this frying pan and start sautéing the onions and bell peppers,” Mom told Rena. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to change clothes. Marcus, can I see you for a minute?”

  I followed Mom into her bedroom and she pulled a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer.

  “Marcus, I don’t mind you having company. You’re a responsible young man, and I’d like to think that you’re making good choices. But I don’t think it’s appropriate for a young lady to be in your bedroom,” she said, and pulled an old T-shirt from another drawer. “If you’re going to entertain company, you can do so in the living room. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

  “Good, then we won’t have to go here again,” she said. “Now go and help that girl sauté the veggies. I don’t even know if she can cook.”

  “Okay, Ma. Sorry.”

  I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. Went into the kitchen to help Rena sauté the vegetables; found myself chopping an onion for the first time in my life.

  “Was she mad?” Rena whispered.

  “No. She was cool.”

  “Are you disappointed that we didn’t go all the way, Marcus?”

  “Nah, it’s cool. Guess it wasn’t the right time.”

  “Guess not,” Rena said, “but I like you a lot. And if I ever give it up, I want it to be with you.”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Of course,” she said, and then started stirring the bell pepper around in the pan.

  I dumped the onions that I had chopped into the pan, and she stirred those around too. I was glad that Rena and I had been interrupted. There was no telling what would’ve happened if we’d still been in that room. I never wanted to be responsible for stealing someone’s virginity, especially when I didn’t love her. And she wasn’t even my girl. Taking a girl’s virginity was a huge decision, and not one to be made lightly. Until I got to know Rena better, I would not be the dude to change her life—not in that manner. And I didn’t think she should be so careless about it. I wasn’t ready for that type of change, and neither was she.

  I couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and for Rena to leave. I wanted to call Indigo back and find out why she had called. I wondered if she was missing me like I was missing her. I wanted to know if she’d met someone new, and if she still had hopes of hooking up with me at the end of the summer. Even though I wouldn’t be returning to Atlanta, I wondered if she longed for this stupid pact to be over.

  Chapter 14

  Indigo

  Nana had insisted on calling Marcus to find out if he was enjoying his summer vacation in Houston. I hoped he didn’t think it was me calling, or worse, think that I was stalking him or something. I had to admit, I did miss Marcus, but I couldn’t let him know that. If I admitted to missing him, then I’d have to admit that I’d been wrong—wrong to suggest a pact that was stupid to begin with. But I would never do that. Instead, I needed to meet a guy who would make the whole thing worth it.

  Marcus and I had taken a photo at one of those booths at the mall. It was a black-and-white photo, and in the picture Marcus was holding up rabbit ears behind my head. I slept with that picture underneath my pillow every night and took a glance at it every chance I got. Didn’t want to forget what he looked like over the summer. I still remembered the way he laughed and the way he said my name. I could even hear his voice in my head sometimes.

  I had been in Chicago for three solid weeks and hadn’t once bumped into Jordan Fisher, the boy who had been my summer boyfriend since I was seven years old. I wondered whether he still lived on Nana’s block, because I hadn’t seen his face in the neighborhood. One day when I went for a walk to the gas station to get a package of Skittles, I almost stepped up to his door, but I changed my mind. I did bump into his best friend, Lance Cooper, when I stopped at the end of the block and watched the neighborhood boys play a game of basketball.

  “Indi, what you doing here?” Lance asked.

  “Staying at my grandmother’s for the summer.”

  “You still as fine as you wanna be.” Lance smiled.

  “Where’s Jordan? Does he still live in that brick house on the corner?”

  “Yeah, he lives there. I’m surprised he’s not out here shooting hoops,” Lance said. “Why? You still like him?”

  “I was just curious. Wondered how he was doing.”

  “Why don’t you go knock on the door? He’s probably in there.”

  “I’ll pass,” I told Lance, and then headed back down the block toward Nana’s. “I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll tell Jordan that you were looking for him.”

  “Whatever, Lance.”

  Nana and I had settled into the d
en, sharing a bowl of Orville Redenbacher’s popcorn and watching the American Idol Rewind. American Idol had been our favorite show since the first time it came on television, and we laughed so hard at the auditions. It was hard to believe that people actually went on national TV and behaved the way some of the American Idol wannabes did. Only a handful of them actually had nice singing voices, though some of them were convinced that they were the next great star, but couldn’t hold a note to save their souls.

  Our next favorite show was Deal or No Deal. When I was in Atlanta, Nana and I would call each other on the phone during the show.

  “Deal or no deal, Indi?” Nana would ask, just as some contestant was trying to decide what to do.

  “I say no deal, Nana.” I was the risk taker between the two of us; Nana was the conservative one. She’d yell at the person on TV and tell them to take the deal that the banker was offering. And she’d call them all kinds of stupid when they didn’t. I often wondered what it would be like if Nana and I had a chance to join Howie Mandel on that stage as contestants. If I were a contestant, Nana would be on the edge of her seat, screaming for me to take the deal, and I’d be trying to convince her that I could win the million dollars.

  “Indi, if you don’t take that deal, I’m going to whip your behind.” I could just hear Nana saying that.

  It would be the one time I’d have to take that whipping, because if I believed that I had a million dollars in the briefcase, I would not take the deal.

  We laughed as Simon told some girl that her voice was horrendous. Simon had such a way with words and showed no mercy when telling people how bad they were. I felt bad for some of them. Paula always said whatever Randy said, and Nana and I swore up and down that Simon and Paula had a thing going on during one season. We shook our heads every time Paula opened her mouth. After she would give her little spiel to the contestants, Nana and I would look at each other and say, “What?” in unison. Paula always seemed to be in her own little world.