by L. Divine
Trecee
—luvs—
KJ
4—Eva
“What did Misty tell her?” I ask, folding the letter back up and handing it to Nellie, who unfolds it and reads it again.
“I don’t know,” Nellie says. “But whatever it was, she sure didn’t paint her a pretty picture of you.”
“I should go over there and sock her in the head for being stupid enough to listen to Misty in the first place,” Mickey says, glaring hard at Trecee, who’s now sitting on KJ’s lap, staking her claim for all to see. Misty’s standing over them, looking like Don King at a fight: hungry for a knockout punch.
“I want to slap Misty for being such a little instigator,” I say.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Nellie says, trying to calm me down.
“It’s all a mind game, Jayd. You know broads are better at playing games than dudes,” Mickey says, finally getting up to go get her candy.
“Mickey’s right, Jayd. Those broads are just hatin’ on you because you’re pretty, smart, and you had KJ. Don’t trip off them,” Nellie says.
“She ain’t gone do nothing on Friday, watch,” Mickey says.
While taking a bite of my cheese on a stick, I look over at KJ and Trecee again and I start to feel real hot, like I’m going to burst into flames just like I do before I have a déjà vu vision.
“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” I say, fanning myself with a napkin.
“Maybe KJ got you all flushed inside,” Nellie laughs.
“You’re so silly, Nellie. KJ can’t make me do all that,” I say, sneaking another look at him. “Well, maybe not, but something is. You’re sweating,” Nellie says, passing me a napkin to pat myself down with.
Just as Mickey gets up to throw away her trash, I notice this White dude in the distance standing in line at Mrs. Field’s. It’s Jeremy’s fine ass. God, he’s a perfect distraction from the KJ drama.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to holla at Jeremy for a minute,” I say, while continuing to pat my face with the napkin. “How do I look?”
“Like a little chocolate girl about to dip her hand in some vanilla ice cream,” Mickey jokes.
Confident, I take a step in Jeremy’s direction, but when I see him flash his bright smile at me, I freeze. I turn away from Jeremy and notice Trecee again. I can’t take my eyes from her and once more I’m burning up.
“Jayd, I thought you were going over to get you some Jeremy?” Nellie asks, not noticing my hesitation or my eyes on Trecee.
“Yeah, in a minute,” I say, trying to collect myself. But I’m still hot and I can’t stop staring at Trecee. She’s sitting on KJ’s lap, licking on an ice-cream cone Misty brought her. My focus is so intent I swear she’s going to catch me looking at her and come over to start something. But, she doesn’t even notice me. I’m so hot I start fanning myself with my hands.
“Jayd, what’s wrong? You feeling hot again? Girl, you need some hormone pills or something,” Nellie asks, sounding concerned.
“Nah girl, I’m cool. I just need some air,” I say, finally looking away from Trecee.
“I’m going to go have some cookies with Jeremy,” I say, regaining my courage and cooling down a little. What else did Mama put in that bathwater last night?
I turn toward Jeremy and see he’s already next in line at Mrs. Field’s. If I hurry we can stand in line together and maybe he’ll treat me to a cookie. That would be kinda cute, sort of like a first date. As I walk toward Jeremy, I see it’s my turn to feel someone’s eyes on me. I look across the food court to find Trecee now staring me down all while smiling and licking her chocolate ice cream.
As if in slow motion, the perfectly round chocolate scoop breaks away from its cone, conveniently missing Trecee and landing on KJ’s pants; first in my head, then for everyone else to see. “Shit!” KJ yells loud enough for everyone in the food court to hear. He jumps up out his seat, and Trecee along with the remaining ice cream hit the floor hard.
“Damn it, Trecee. You just messed up my brand-new gear. What the hell is wrong with you?” KJ asks, not even trying to help her get up off the floor. I know she’s embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, KJ. I didn’t mean to, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” Trecee says, as pleasantly and as dignified as she can from the floor. But KJ ain’t in the mood. If it’s one thing he can’t stand it’s not looking good. And a dirty outfit ain’t nowhere near looking good.
“Make it up to me?” KJ laughs. “You got three bills, Trecee, huh? ’Cause that’s how much this suit cost and that’s the only way you can make it up to me,” KJ says, pulling on his pants and grabbing some napkins from the dispenser on the table. He is pissed.
I look over to see if my girls caught the action. They’re watching all right, just like everybody else up in here. I can’t believe it.
“Trecee, go get me some wet paper towels from the bathroom, and hurry up,” KJ demands. “You better hope it don’t stain. Then all you have to do is pay my dry cleaning bill.” As KJ continues to humiliate Trecee in front of anybody within earshot, Trecee scrambles to get up, but keeps slipping in the melting ice cream. KJ’s crew is clowning her hard, making the scene even more embarrassing for her.
“Dang dude, she can’t even get up off the floor. Where’d you find this ho at, KJ?” Del asks, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I don’t know, but I’m sending her ass back, just as soon as she pays me for my gear,” KJ says, pointing to the ice-cream stains on his pants. Misty tries to help Trecee up, but Trecee just pushes her away, not wanting any charity, I guess. She looks like she’s about to cry. I momentarily feel sorry for her.
I glance over to see if my man Jeremy is still standing by Mrs. Field’s but damn, he’s gone. Now I have to wait to see him in class tomorrow.
“Jayd, my man just called,” Mickey yells to me. “I got to go pick him up from work.” Mickey’s man is always having car problems. It’s time to go anyway. I can’t take too much more of Trecee’s humiliation, even if she does have it out for me. Besides, something at the back of my mind is telling me I may have had something to do with the drama playing out before me. The sweating, the feeling hot—all that has never happened to me before. Somehow it feels connected to what just happened between KJ and Trecee, but it’s not something I really want to think about now.
“All right, girl, let’s roll,” I say, picking up our trash and taking it to the automatic garbage can.
“These things scare me. I feel like it’s a Venus flytrap and I’m a fly,” I say, placing the tray inside of the machine’s opening, watching it devour the tray and trash in one swoop.
“Girl, come on. I can’t keep my man waiting for long. He’ll think I’m with some dude,” Mickey says, walking toward the escalator.
“Your man knows you well, then,” Nellie says, taking a free shot at Mickey.
“Whatever, Nellie. Do you want a ride home or not?” Mickey asks her while I walk behind them, trying to ignore the madness across the courtyard. I hope KJ and Trecee are happy together because they sure do deserve each other.
As we go down the escalator, posing like movie stars, I see Chance at the Verizon booth. He’s such a cutey. If he wasn’t so skinny and solely into White girls, I’d consider dating him. But, I don’t think I’m his type anyway. For the year I’ve known him, I’ve only seen him with White girls; the skankier the better.
“Hey, Chance,” I say once we reach the bottom of the escalator.
“Jayd and her girls, what’s up?” Chance says, being funny.
“We have our own names,” Mickey says, looking at me evil. She really wants to go and she doesn’t too much care for talking to my friends in Drama. She says it’s bad for her reputation.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I forgot who I was talking to. Hello, Mickey. Hello, Nellie,” he says, giving them each a bow like a perfect gentleman.
“What’s up, Chance?” Nellie says, smiling at his silly self. “Are you g
oing to Byron’s party on Saturday?” she asks, hoping to pump him for valuable info on all of the inside gossip: will there be any celebrities there, what’s on the menu, what’s everyone wearing.
“Uhhh, no. Not my scene,” he says, patting his stomach and looking toward the door. Actually, my boys and I are having a little get-together right now, if you want to come. Jeremy’s there,” he says, looking at me with that sly smile of his.
“Why you telling me,” I ask, hitting him in the arm. “Besides, I know you’re lying. He was just here getting some cookies.”
“Yeah. He had the munchies,” Chance says, chuckling a little.
“I hate to break this up, but anyone coming with me better come on,” Mickey says, and she’s not playing. She’s left Nellie hanging in a dressing room on more than one occasion.
“Well, I kinda want to see what’s up with y’all, but we don’t have a way home,” Nellie says, securing our ride before committing.
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll get you home,” Chance says, putting his arm around Nellie and pinching me in the side.
“Okay, but I have to be home by five. Mama will get real suspicious if I’m home too late on a school day,” I say. I know Chance is dependable and will get me home in time. He’s picked me up from work before, so I trust him.
“Cool. I’ll see y’all later,” Mickey says, bolting out the door toward the parking lot.
“All right, let’s get going. I just needed a new headpiece for my cell,” he says, picking up his bag and heading out the door with his arm still around Nellie’s shoulders.
“Hey, what about me?” I say, playing the jealous role. He loves it when I show him extra attention.
“Oh, you know Big Daddy got enough loving for all the honeys,” he says, switching to straight pimp mode.
“Look, White boy, don’t get full of yourself,” I say, wrapping his right arm around my shoulders. Damn, he always smells so good. Today he must be wearing Polo.
“Chance, when are you going to get a new car?” Nellie asks as we head outside, approaching his classic Chevy Nova. It’s a sweet ride, but not as nice as Jeremy’s, in my opinion.
“This here is a classic, candy apple red, 1970 Chevrolet Nova SS with a 350 cubic inch, 300hp V8 engine as standard equipment, baby. You can’t buy this kind of love,” Chance says, opening the passenger door for Nellie to climb into the backseat.
“Now, you hear that, Jayd?” Nellie says, pulling the seat back so I can sit down in the front. “He just equated this hunk of metal with an emotion.”
“Who you calling a hunk of metal?” Chance says, closing the passenger door before walking around to the driver’s side.
“It’s not a who; it’s a what,” Nellie says as he slides into the black vinyl seats. When he starts the car, I get a rush from the gun of the engine. They sure don’t make them like this anymore, as Daddy would say.
“Like that, huh?” Chance asks, eyeing me like I just had an orgasm or something. But, I can’t front; I do like it, a lot. I can’t help wondering how Jeremy’s car feels.
“Are you sure Jeremy’s there?” I ask. “If he’s not, I’m going to be very disappointed.”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, Matt just called me and I heard Jeremy in the background. He must’ve just got there,” he says as we leave the parking lot, heading toward the beach. It’s a beautiful afternoon in Redondo Beach. I can see the ocean so clearly from here.
“Can you turn your music down a little, please? The bass is really giving me a headache,” Nellie says, plugging her ears with her index fingers.
“Hell no. This is Outkast, baby. I can’t help but bump this. Ain’t that right, Jayd?” he says, smiling through his sunshades.
“It’s not that bad, Nellie. Bryan always has his music up loud whenever he takes me anywhere,” I say.
“Yes, but I’m usually not in the car with y’all, now am I?” she says. She can be a real tight-ass sometimes.
“We’re almost there, so just sit back and enjoy the view, dude,” Chance says, trying to mellow Nellie out.
“Where are we going, anyway?” I ask, realizing I have no idea where this so-called get-together is.
“We’re going to Matt’s house. It’s right off of 190th, in the hills.” As we make a right on 190th, Nellie starts to get suspicious of what kind of get-together we’re going to.
“Are these your pothead friends, Chance?” Nellie asks, putting her arms on the back of our seats and placing her head in between ours.
“Yes, they are,” Chance answers. That’s one thing about these White boys out here; they love to smoke weed.
“Oh no,” Nellie says, shaking her head and waving her hands dramatically. “I can’t be seen hanging around potheads, Jayd. And, I don’t want you tarnishing your good girl reputation either. Take us home now, please,” Nellie says, sitting back in her seat like she’s Ms. Daisy.
“Well, actually, it doesn’t bother me so much, Nellie,” I say, reminding her that I can speak for myself. “They’ve never pressured me to do anything I don’t want to. Besides, my uncles smoke, my mom and her friends smoke, and the entire Drama Club smokes. So, I really think your reputation won’t be tarnished if you’re around it and don’t partake,” I say. I personally don’t support the use of anything as a drug. But, I say, to each her own. Nellie’s not convinced, but does agree to go along.
When we pull up to Matt’s house, everyone’s standing outside, admiring their cars and the girls up against them. And there it is: the classic Mustang sitting in the driveway with its owner nowhere to be found.
“What are these White girls hangin’ all over the cars for?” Nellie asks, echoing my thoughts exactly.
“Girls like hot rods,” Chance says, parking his car right behind Jeremy’s.
“No, they don’t. They like the money that belongs to the guys in them,” Matt says, opening the passenger door to let us out.
“Hey, Matt,” I say, giving him a big hug. We’ve grown cool through the Drama Club, as well. Out of all the cliques, I like this one the best. They’re kind of the outcast floaters, like myself, but unlike Nellie. I can already see her getting a serious attitude when she sees the cigarette in Matt’s hand.
“What the hell is this?” she says to Matt as he helps her out of the backseat.
“What, this?” Matt says, referring to the lawn party going on at his mansion. “This is Back to School Night, our way. I’m glad you two could join us. Adds a little color to the mix, know what I mean,” Matt says, nudging me in the side with his elbow. Now, when White people say stuff like that, especially to my face, I want to go off. But, I know he doesn’t mean anything by it and he doesn’t know any better, so I’m going to let this one slide.
“Whatever, Matt,” I say, following Matt and Nellie up the steep hill leading to the house. It’s literally a mansion right on the beach. It’s gorgeous in the inside. I know because Matt usually hosts all of the Drama Club’s parties: another good reason to be affiliated with this clique. They give the best parties all year long, even better than the athletes and cheerleaders.
As we pass the couples and others sprawled out on the lawn, I don’t see Jeremy anywhere. I hope I can make it to the bathroom before I see him. I want to check my makeup in the mirror and I have to pee.
“Hey, Matt. Where’s the keg?” this blonde girl, Shelley, asks. She’s wearing the slinkiest black bikini I’ve ever seen. And, she’s as skinny as Paris Hilton. Why do dudes like these girls?
“It’s by the pool,” he says, gesturing toward the back of the house.
“Hey, why you didn’t wait for me?” Chance asks as he grabs me around my waist, almost pulling me down the hill.
“Chance, be careful. I’m precious cargo,” I say, squirming out of his embrace. “Where’d you go, anyway?”
“I went to tell your boy you’re here. Come on. He’s in the basement,” he says, grabbing my arm and leading me into the house.
“Hey, where are you taking Be
yonce?” Matt says, amusing only himself.
“I’m taking her to the basement. You coming, Nellie?” Chance says, reaching for her hand.
“Well, you’re not leaving me with this fool. What’s in the basement?” Nellie asks.
“You’ll see,” Chance says. With Matt following behind, we walk through the foyer laced with expensive art and a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling. As we pass the large salt water aquarium to the right of the entrance hall, we enter into the kitchen.
Every time I walk into this kitchen, I can see Mama working her magic in here. It’s been featured on HGTV more than once for its magnificent marble countertops. The cabinets are a beautiful maple wood with brass fixtures. There are two sinks: one strictly for cutting vegetables, which is in the center of the island, and the other for dishes. The stove is an antique, just like all the cars these rich kids drive. Only a few have sold out and bought BMWs and Benzs.
Chance leads us to the back of the room, through a door, and down a flight of stairs. The first thing that hits us is a cloud of smoke. The lights are dim and the music is mellow reggae; Burning Spear, I think. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, all I can see is glimmers of shiny cars and people sitting in big cozy chairs all around them. It’s a garage for Matt’s dad that doubles, apparently, as an entertainment room. There’s a pool table in the back of the room and I can hear balls clinking up against one another. Everybody’s just laid back; this is how the ballers roll.
11
Cookies and Cheddar
“Real guys go for real, down to Mars girls.”
—OUTKAST
“Jayd, is that a Mercedes Benz, SL 500 over there?” Nellie asks, pointing to one of three cars lined up against the wall.
“Yes, I believe it is. And, that there is a CL 600, my dream car,” I say. These dudes ain’t playing when it comes to money. If the cars alone tell their families’ income, they must be balling out of control. There are ten cars that I can count in the dim light and the basement must be the size of the entire house. I don’t know what Matt’s dad does, but he’s rarely ever home. And, his mom is always home, but never around. Being the only child in this house must be heaven.
