The Fight

by L. Divine

  Mama opens the bathroom door and hurries out, carrying her pot and the extinguished candles. She returns to lead me back to her room and hands me a list with assignments on it.

  “This is your homework for the next two weeks. You’ll be tested on it next Sunday evening,” Mama says. “Pay attention while doing your assignments; don’t just do it to get it done, learn something,” she says, referring to the list.

  I unfold the yellow parchment paper with Mama’s careful and neat handwriting on it. I read the list to myself. It’s more prayers, poems, and stories about the different deities.

  “Mama, why I got to do all this work? I’ve got too much on my mind to be doing all this right now,” I complain. All I asked for was a little help. Not a list of more stuff to do.

  “Your petty little drama at school ain’t nothing compared to the drama out here in the real world. Tell that to them little heffas stirring up all this mess behind you and KJ. Now, go get Mama some water so I can take my herbs.”

  As usual, Mama’s right. I shouldn’t be worrying about this drama when there are so many more important things to think about. But still, Trecee and KJ will be on my mind all night long.

  When I walk back into Mama’s room to hand her her herbs and get my backpack to take into the kitchen—I still have schoolwork to do—Mama’s already asleep on her bed. In her hand lay a Bible and her rosary. I hope she prayed for Trecee to chill the hell out. I pray the cleansing works. I need as much protection and good vibes around me as possible. Mama doesn’t play games when it comes to my safety or my heart. I wish everybody felt the same way.

  9

  Games

  “Girl, you know you better watch out

  Some guys, some guys are only about that thing.”

  —LAURYN HILL

  This triangle with KJ and Trecee is like a bad soap opera, but not like The Young and the Restless or General Hospital. This is more like some OC type drama. Just straight out of nowhere and ridiculous.

  The games they play on the soaps are some of the most twisted and wicked I’ve ever seen. Maybe Trecee is headed for a successful career as a writer for the soaps because I don’t know that even they could have come up with a more ludicrous plot.

  But she’s not the only one playing games. KJ has his player scent all over this broad. He’s got her all twisted up like a dreadlock. And now she’s out of control. He got this broad thinking she’s his girl when everybody knows he’s just playing her. Trecee’s way out her league with KJ. How she could be that blind, I don’t know. But obviously she’s willing to fight for him no matter how foolish he makes her look. I hope she doesn’t follow us to the mall. It’s Back to School Night tonight, so we get out of school early, which gives me some well-deserved chill time with my girls.

  “Hey, y’all want to catch a movie? Wednesdays are half off,” Mickey says.

  “Girl, we ain’t got time for all that. We’re going to miss all the new cats hangin’ out at the food court. You know broads be quick to flock.” Nellie is so boy crazy sometimes.

  “Ain’t nobody looking for a new man, Nellie,” I say. “Why are we always concentrating on getting dudes anyway? New ones, old ones, it doesn’t matter. They’re all dogs.”

  “Ah, sweetie,” Nellie says. “It sounds like you just got your heart broken by a fine ass Black man. You need to call Dr. Phil to get a new outlook.”

  “Nellie, you’re so silly,” Mickey laughs.

  I have to crack a smile too.

  “Besides,” Mickey continues. “My man ain’t no dog. He got girls jockin’ him all day. But he know that what’s here is much better than anything else out there.” Mickey points to all the females around us. South Bay Galleria is the after-school hangout for all the schools in this area. So, not only do we get to see new dudes from our school, but also from the other schools around here.

  “Yeah, but how you know he ain’t got a little something on the side?” Nellie asks as Mickey reaches into her Louis Vuitton bag to get her cell phone.

  “Because I keep him too happy to mess around. Besides, how you know I ain’t got a little something on the side?” Mickey has dudes jockin’ her all the time. And with her cute little brown-skin self, I’m sure she can have her pick of the litter at all times. “Jayd, don’t be so cynical. All men ain’t dogs. You just have to learn to play the game to your advantage,” Mickey says, scrolling in her phone book. “I’m going to find you a rebound boyfriend.”

  “Mickey, what’s wrong with you?” Nellie asks. “A rebound boyfriend is the last thing she needs.”

  “Excuse me? What the hell is a rebound boyfriend?” I ask.

  “A dude to help you get over one boyfriend and on to the next one,” Mickey says like it’s the most normal conversation to be having.

  “Mickey, no thank you. And besides, what are you going to do? Call up someone on your reject list to help me out?”

  “Of course not. This list is strictly for side business. I’ve got some dudes on here that will make you forget all about KJ. It’s all part of the game, baby,” Mickey says, continuing to scroll down her little phone list while Nellie and I look for something to eat. The mall is packed with broads and dudes. Everybody’s on cell phones and scouting the fresh meat at the same time. The games have just begun.

  Sometimes, even I, Jayd Jackson, play games with boys. Unfortunately, I don’t realize I’m playing a game until I’m smack dab in the middle of it. Now, the boys are the professional game players and hustlers. They know how to win at them all: the “oh baby, that’s just my ex-girlfriend” game; the “I’m always broke” game; the “love-hate-jealousy can’t stand you but I can’t live without you” game; the “I don’t want to admit I made a wrong decision so I’m going to make the breakup about something else” game; and the “she’s just a friend” game, just to name a few.

  I haven’t played them all, but I’ve been played in a couple. I learned all about the games from this dude I used to work with, Sid. He was much, much older than me, but only dated girls my age or a couple of years older, at the most. He had these girls doing damn near everything he wanted. Paying his bills, putting gas in his car, and buying him stuff. He was the Mac. And to top it off, the girls knew he had other females, but they didn’t care. As long as they got a little piece of him they were happy. I guess they thought they would eventually convince him to be only their man.

  But, unfortunately for them broads, dude wasn’t interested in having one woman. His game was rock solid and he knew it. Them broads would fight one another over him, but never him. Watching him was kinda like watching a Snoop video. He just knew he was a straight-up pimp.

  “Girl, these cats are looking pretty good up in here. I’m so glad we came to the mall today,” Mickey says while giving about ten different dudes her sexiest look.

  “Mickey, I’m gone tell your man you out here scouting for new territory,” Nellie says as we walk toward Hot Dog on a Stick.

  “Ain’t nobody scouting for nothing, Nellie,” Mickey says, ending her hunt on my behalf to pursue her own prey. “I’m just observing the new merchandise.”

  “Whatever, Mickey. Relationships are sacred. I don’t even see why you have a man,” Nellie says, rolling her eyes at Mickey. Mickey rolls her eyes right back. “Jayd, you want a cheese on a stick and lemonade? We can share some fries,” Nellie says, taking her wallet out of her Dooney & Burke bag.

  “I’m really not in the mood to eat, girls. I’m tired. Mama had me up last night doing a cleansing,” I say, remembering yesterday’s drama.

  Nellie studies the five-item menu like they added something new. Even if they did she gets the same thing every time: sugar-free lemonade, no ice, and a small fries, no salt.

  “Why are you reading the menu when you already know what you want?” I ask impatiently.

  “I’m tired of eating here. Let’s go to Cheesecake Factory. It’s only a few minutes away and they have really good food,” Nellie says, temporarily forgetting who she’s wi
th.

  “Nellie, ain’t nobody got Cheesecake Factory money,” I say, nudging her in the shoulder. I love Nellie, but she thinks she is better than us regular folk sometimes because her family got a little more money than the average folks in Compton. But not enough to live with the rich people they want to be like so bad.

  “You ain’t got to get all sensitive, Jayd. Avoiding Trecee and KJ all day must have you pretty tired,” she says, trying to be funny.

  “Ain’t nobody avoiding stupid KJ or Trecee, Nellie. I just needed some time to myself,” I say, lying through my teeth. Ever since my cleansing last night I’ve been thinking about what Mama said: This drama ain’t mine and to stay as far away from Trecee as possible.

  “Yeah, right, Jayd,” Nellie says, standing in line for her lemonade. “That’s why you stayed in Mrs. Crowe’s office during break and lunch. It’s only the second day of school and you’re already in hiding.”

  “If I was you, I’d just kick Trecee’s butt and get on with it. You can take her,” Mickey says while counting her money.

  After we get our food and drinks, we sit at a table in the big open quad area in the center of the food court. We choose to sit by The Sweet Factory because it smells so good.

  “You know what? Both of y’all can just stay out of my business. I’m not avoiding Trecee or KJ,” I reiterate.

  “Well, since you ain’t avoiding nobody, why don’t you go tell your boy we said, ‘Hi,’” Nellie says, pointing to KJ and his crew.

  And, there he is, ordering a slice of pizza at Napoli’s, looking like a movie star. I swear that boy is the finest Black dude I’ve ever seen. Maybe Misty was right. What the hell? Did I just think that? I must be momentarily blinded by his immaculate smile and even-toned brown skin. He towers over everyone else in his crew with his six-foot two-inch frame. He’s muscular and lean, just perfect for me, and every other female in this mall.

  KJ and his crew like to dress in all the latest sports fashion. He always wears Nike and Sean Jean sweats and shirts with the shoes to match. On a sunny day, the visor is in effect, and it highlights his narrow face and high cheekbones that light up when he smiles. He’s beautiful.

  “I can’t believe he’s up here hangin’ out like nothing’s happening,” I say. I hate that this dude can get broads to create all kinds of drama over him while he’s seemingly untouched by the insanity swirling around him.

  “Well, ain’t you doing the same thing?” Mickey says, not missing eye contact with a single dude who walks by. She loves getting attention from as many cats as she can.

  “No, I’m not,” I say, pretending to be hurt. “I’m here for some serious rehabilitation that only the mall can provide. And that jerk is ruining my vibe.”

  “Well, the other girls swarming around him don’t seem to mind his vibe at all.” I see that Nellie’s right. KJ is good at what he does best in all scenarios: playing.

  KJ’s a true player. I think he learned how to master the game from some of the older brothers he balls with. Them brothas are from UCLA and USC, and they all love high school girls. Not just because we’re young, sweet, and fine, but also because most of us fall for the game. They know this too, so they’re always hangin’ around the mall, usually Fox Hills, where all the fly girls chill.

  Getting into this older crew is a guaranteed ticket into the game. You see, games can’t be played alone. Not these kind. Players need “their boys” to back them up, make sure their game is tight, you know the deal. So, if they have a crew, they’re halfway there.

  Anyway, KJ and his crew are the b-ball brothas and their game is airtight like Iverson’s. Iverson is so beautiful. But yeah, that brotha got airtight games goin’ on, and he learned it all from his older crew. What he learns from them he takes back to C Money and Del, trying to hip them to the game. So, you can imagine that KJ’s not only “The Man” to girls, but the guys also look up to KJ for his so-called player wisdom.

  Well, the “oh-so-wise-one” first pulled his player wisdom on Maisha but she flipped the script on him. He learned a very quick lesson: Girls can be players too. Turns out the reason they broke up the first time was because Maisha was dating one of KJ’s crew without either of them knowing. Major game violation. Anyhow, Maisha got to talkin’ one day and mentioned this other brotha’s name to one of her friends, who was of course hating on Maisha. (Every sistah has a broad or two hating on them in their life.)

  Word eventually got back to Mr. Playa himself and he confronted Maisha. Well, she fessed up to the whole thing and then asked KJ why he made such a big deal about it. Yeah, she twisted his whole mind up. Maisha doesn’t just play the game; she masters it to her advantage. She quit KJ for the other brotha, and that’s where I came in.

  KJ decided on me as his next victim, or woman, as he calls it. I was so awestruck by the brother I fell right into his little trap without a moment’s thought as to his true intentions. Truth be told, from the first time I saw KJ I was in love.

  Everything began real sweet with us. He was a perfect gentleman. He opened doors for me, took me to lunch, called me all the time, and asked before he kissed me. You know the kind of stuff that only happens in the movies? That was how his game began.

  It wasn’t until he had me whipped that he began to show his true player side, constantly pressuring me to give up the cookies. I wasn’t having it though. I guess Trecee doesn’t mind that side of him, but I do.

  As KJ takes his order to a seat nearby the pizza shop he glances my way and we make eye contact. At first he looks like he’s been caught with his pants down. Then, he just gives me one of his sly smiles and goes back to charming the harem closely following at his heels. Mickey and Nellie catch the eye contact.

  “Jayd, why you just sitting there?” Mickey accuses. “Go over and tell that fool what you really think of him.”

  I shrug at her.

  “Well, I’m gone get some candy. Y’all want something?” Mickey says while getting up.

  “Damn, Mickey, you just had two dogs, some fries, and a large lemonade. What’s up, you pregnant or something?” I ask, half teasing and half serious.

  “Nah, but you know I started the patch this week and it’s making me hungrier than usual. My sister says it works better than the pill. So, if I have to gain a couple of pounds, so be it. But maybe you’re right; I’ll pass on the sweets.”

  “If you ask me, all that stuff is dangerous. You should just use condoms, like other responsible people,” Nellie says.

  “Everybody don’t like it like that. Right, Jayd?”

  “What the hell you asking me for, or have you forgotten I’m a virgin?” I ask Mickey, shocked that she’d even say anything like that to me.

  “I know. But you and KJ never discussed birth control?” Nellie asks, sounding like a damn family planning commercial. “Unlike Mickey’s method, condoms are the only way to go, if you choose to do it at all,” she says.

  “Even if I intended to do it with him, he’s been around way too much to be going raw. KJ said when the time came he would pull out, said it always works for him,” I say, temporarily remembering our sex talk. KJ was so sweet at the beginning of our relationship. He seemed so patient, but that all went to hell quickly.

  “Yeah, but that don’t help with catching the stuff that will make your cookies crumble. You need to use a condom—always,” Nellie says. She can act like somebody’s mama sometimes.

  “It ain’t like she really got to worry about it, Nellie. There are plenty of broads flocking over to KJ and his boys. Just look,” Mickey says, pointing to the crowd surrounding KJ, Del, and C Money.

  The groupies, also known as the females flocking around KJ and his boys, look like straight video skanks. They’re always willing to take whatever them dudes throw their way just to hang out with the crew. Those types of females are my worst enemies. But, like Mama told me when I first started having problems with KJ, every woman has her female foes. And, speak of the devils, there go Trecee and Misty, joining the pack.<
br />
  10

  Sistah Drama

  “Is this some kind of women’s intuition

  Some kind of insecurity?”

  —JILL SCOTT

  “Oh no, them heffas ain’t staring you down, Jayd,” Mickey says, reacting to Misty and Trecee’s obvious hatin’ from across the food court.

  “Jayd, we were going to wait to show you this on the way home, but we better show you now, just in case.” Nellie reaches into her purse and hands me a balled-up letter.

  “What’s this?” I ask, unfolding the crumpled paper. It must have been read and then reread several times.

  “It was going around school while you were in solitary confinement,” Mickey says.

  “I wasn’t in solitary confinement and y’all still didn’t answer my question,” I say, looking from Mickey to Nellie and then from Misty to Trecee. They’re pointing at me and rolling their eyes. Of course, they’re talking about me.

  “Just read the damn letter, Jayd,” Nellie demands. I open the letter and read it quietly to myself.

  Misty,

  What’s up, girl? You were right all along. That bitch Jayd wants my man and I ain’t having it. If Jason hadn’t stopped me yesterday, I would have kicked her ass right then and there. But I’m glad we didn’t fight yesterday ’cause I had on my new sweat suit. I’m gone beat her down on Friday at lunch though. You down? I know you can’t stand her ass either, so if you want to get a few blows in, be my guest. I can’t wait to see her butt squirming on the ground, begging me to stop kicking her. She’ll be sorry she ever tried to take my man from me.

  Anyways, this class is so damn boring. What the hell I need to learn more English for? You my only real home girl at this punk ass school, know what I’m sayin? Meet me after school in the Main Hall so we can catch a ride with Jason to the mall. My man is suppose to be heading up there after practice and I want to make sure no hos get all up on him.