by Chanel Hardy
“I can’t believe the rec center is closing. This really sucks.” Porsha told her father.
“You know these white folks can’t wait to take away everything we have and erase our city’s culture.” Her father said, still reading the paper.
“I mean, I understand wanting to make the city better, uplifting the local economy, but I’m starting to feel I’m being pushed out of my home. Most of us are. When they’re done redeveloping, where are the low-class members of the community supposed to go?” Porsha pushed around the eggs on her plate with her fork. “I don’t wanna sell our house. Or move.”
“Nobody is selling anything or going anywhere.” Her father said sternly. He sat his paper down and took a sip of his coffee. “Not yet anyway.”
“Dad!”
“What? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to move somewhere quiet, or warm. Florida maybe?”
Porsha grunted at his suggestions. “Florida is humid and sticky. Gross.”
“Well whether we like it or not, the city is changing. We either adapt eventually or move on.” Her father got up from his seat and placed his half empty cup in the sink.” I’m gonna go to the gym. What are you going to be up to today?” He asked.
“I was going to go by the coffee shop and read for a while. Then hang out with Brittney.”
“Alright then. See you later.”
“Bye dad.”
Her father left the kitchen, his newspaper was still on the table. She could see the article about the rec center from where she was sitting. All around her she had to watch as her home changed more and more every day. She couldn’t do anything about businesses that decided to sell, or were priced out of their property, but the rec center was different. It was funded by the city, so there was still a chance that it could be saved. Porsha suddenly had an idea & couldn’t wait to tell Brittney.
***
“Good morning! How may I help you!” Greeted the barista at the cash register.
Porsha walked up, not even glancing at the menu. She ordered the same drink every day. “One medium Chai latte with soy please.” She dug in her purse to get her wallet, feeling around her junk only to find that it was missing. “Umm… hold on please.” She said to the barista. She searched her purse again, pulling out pens and lotion bottles but no sign of her wallet. Then she remembered that she left it at home on her dresser when she was switching bags. “Oh crap, I left my wallet.”
The barista looked at her awkwardly. Embarrassed, Porsha began to leave the line, until someone came up to the register, and placed a credit card on the counter.
“I got it. Add a venti iced coffee to that as well. No sweetener please.”
Porsha looked over, and it was the young man from yesterday. The one who asked for the chair. He was standing there, smiling at her. “Thanks for that, but you didn’t have to.” She said to him.
“It’s no issue.” He replied, still smiling at her, as the cashier rung up the order and handed him his card back. Not sure how to feel about his nice gesture, Porsha walked over to the bar to wait for her drink. After putting his card away, he followed.
“I’m John by the way, I remember you from yesterday.” Introducing himself to her.
“Hi.” Porsha gave him a cheesy slight smile with a quick glance, not wanting to make eye contact.
“I never got your name.”
“I didn’t give it.” She said with a snarky tone. John picked up on her attitude and decided to stop talking. The store was busy, so their drinks were taking longer than usual. Porsha realized that she had maybe been a little harsh toward him, when he was only trying to be nice. After all, she really did need that chai latte.
“Porsha.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My name, is Porsha.”
“Oh, well, hello Porsha.” John smiled.
“Hello John.” They smiled at each other, then the odd moment of friendliness caused them to break eye contact.
“Chai latte! With Soy! For Porsha!” The barista yelled out from behind the espresso machine. Porsha grabbed her drink. “Thanks again John.” She walked over to her usual seat in the corner, pulling out a chair, and opening her book. Moments later, she felt the presence of someone walking toward her table. She looked up, and it was John.
“Hey, all the tables are taken. Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked, holding his iced coffee in his hand.
“Umm... Sure. Go ahead.”
He sat his backpack down on the floor and proceeded to take a seat next to her. He pulled out his laptop and textbook. Porsha realized he was a student, which she figured. This coffee shop was a hot spot for students who went to Georgetown University. The book he pulled out was on Psychology.
“You go to GU?” She asked.
“Yeah. You?”
“No. I went to UDC for a bit but took some time off.” She looked at his book again. “You’re studying to be a psychologist?”
“Child psychologist, yes.”
Porsha loved kids, she wanted to be a teacher. She took a break from getting her bachelor’s degree when her mother got sick. She was a few credits away from graduating when her mother passed away a year ago and hadn’t been back since. She planned on going back this fall.
“You studied psychology too?” He asked?
“No, I’m planning on being a teacher. Middle school kids preferably.”
“That’s awesome. The mind of a child is important. They are our future, after all.” Said John.
“You’re absolutely right!” Said Porsha. They shared a moment of smiles, and Porsha couldn’t help but notice that John was quite attractive. She had never really been into white guys, but he seemed different. A little annoying, but sweet, and clearly smart. She went back to reading her book. While reading, John admired her looks. Her tight coils pulled back into a ponytail, her edges curling at the sides. Her brown skin, glowing. His admiration of her beauty was suddenly interrupted by her phone ringing. Porsha saw that it was Brittney and answered.
“Hey Britt!... Yeah, I’m still meeting up with you later. Oh, I wanna talk to you about the center, I have a plan!... Okay, bye!” She hung up and continued to read her book.
They sat there, quiet. Porsha immersed in her reading, and John, busy studying. But every now and then, they would check each other out. Porsha stealing glances and John smelling her coconut oil conditioner. Two hours later, Porsha packed up to get ready to meet up with Brittney.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, again, John. Bye.” She got up from her seat and headed toward the door. John got up, leaving his belongings at the table, to catch her before she left.
“Hey Porsha, wait a sec!” He called out to her as she opened the door. She turned around, caught off guard. He walked up to her. “I know I don’t really know you that well, but I was wondering if you’d like to come to a party tomorrow night?”
Porsha was shocked. She was trying to figure out if this guy she had basically just met was asking her on a date. “A party?” She asked.
“Yeah. It’s nothing extreme. I mean, I know it’s kind of weird for me to ask but…”
“Yes. Sure.”
John’s facial expression grew excited. He wasn’t exactly expecting her to say yes. “Really?”
“Yeah. What’s your number?” Porsha pulled out her phone. He gave her his number, and she put him in her contacts. “See you tomorrow night. Bye John.” She quickly ran toward the station to catch the train back to the southside. John stood there, waving, watching her leave, before going back inside, smiling from ear to ear.
***
Back on the southside of the city, Porsha sat on the stoop at Brittney’s house, as she braided her friend’s hair. “So, about my plan to save the rec center, I think we should protest.” She told Brittney.
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
“Maybe we’ll draw the attention of local news stations. We can tell everyone how much the Riley Gibbs center means to the community. Maybe we can get support from people
outside the community.”
“Yeah, you know those liberal white folks love a good brown people protest.” Brittany laughed.
“Girl you’re a trip! But you’re right though.” Porsha almost forgot to tell Brittney about John. “Speaking of white liberals, I met a guy.”
Brittney paused in the middle of a braid. “A guy?” She was intrigued.
“Yeah, his name is john. He goes to GU. I met him at the coffee shop yesterday. He invited me to a party.”
“Is he cute?” Brittney asked, interrupting Porsha’s braiding while she waited for an answer.
“Yeah, he is.” Porsha smiled at the thought of his blue eyes.
“Oooh! look at you! Is he rich?”
“Oh my God, I don’t know!” Porsha nudged Brittney playfully.
“Well, I wanna tag along to this party. Just to check him out. You don’t know these people.”
“Brit, I’ll be fine! I don’t need you babysitting me all night. Besides, he invited me. It would be impolite to bring someone else.”
Brittany rolled her eyes. “Babysitting? Hmm, sounds like you really like this guy. He must be rich.”
Porsha laughed. “Shut up!” She nudged Brittany in the leg. “Look, I promise I’ll give you all the details after.”
“I guess so, just text me if you need me. You know I’ll pop up quick!”
“Alright.” Porsha agreed, still giggling at her best friend’s saucy humor. “So, back to the protest. Spread the word around. Just make sure my dad doesn’t hear about it. You know him, I don’t want him getting involved.” Porsha’s dad being a cop, he wouldn’t approve of her plans, but she was doing it with or without his approval.
***
Porsha quickly searched her closet for her gold wedged heels. The party John had invited her to, started an hour ago. She was wearing her tight yellow romper with the deep V-neck, that complimented her shoulders and breasts. “Where are those damn shoes?” She was getting annoyed by all her closet clutter, tossing things left and right. She heard a buzzing sound coming from her cell phone, and she figured it was probably Brittany. She walked over to her bed to grab her cell phone to check the message. It was John.
John: Hey, hope I see you tonight.
Porsha was surprised. The only other time he texted her was to give her the address for the party. She wasn’t expecting this. It was random, but sweet.
Porsha: Hey. Yeah, I’ll be there. :)
She felt like the smile emoji was being a little too flirty.
John: :)
Was he flirting now? Porsha smiled at her phone.
Porsha: :) :)
John: Lol… are we flirting now?
Now Porsha felt like she got a little too carried away with the smiling emojis. “Probably shouldn’t have sent that double smiley.” Although she was having a bit of fun, she decided to end their little back and forth play since they were meeting up at the party in a little while.
Porsha: I’ll see you in a bit, ok.
John: K.
She tossed her phone back on her bed and went back to searching for her shoes. After about two more minutes of looking she finally found them. She put them on and went into her bathroom to fix her hair before she left for the party.
***
2939 K street NW is what the text read. This was the spot. The house was nice, one of the nicest homes she had seen in this part of the city. She walked up to the front door and knocked. In that moment, she became nervous, realizing that she would stick out like a sore thumb at this party. In the years that she’s gone to that coffee shop on GU campus, she could recall seeing maybe five black people. One being a janitor. She felt that calling or texting John to meet her outside probably would’ve been a good idea, but it was too late. Someone had already come to the door. It was a brunette white girl with a bob haircut. She had a drink in her hand and a small poodle under her arm. She looked at Porsha with glaring eyes. She was clearly drunk, and immediately walked away soon after opening the door, without even saying a word.
Porsha stepped in, looking around. The room was full of young college students, all white and looked as if they came from money. Which was obvious anyway. Most GU students came from comfortably middle-class homes or better. She stood not too far from the door, trying to scope out the place and spot John. She pulled out her phone and began to text him, when someone approached her from the right, placing his hand on her shoulder.
“You came! I was beginning to think you stood me up.” It was John. He grinned, handing her a drink. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got you some vodka.”
“Vodka’s fine.” She smiled back at him, taking the glass. They sipped their drinks, standing awkwardly for a minute not knowing what else to say to break the ice.
“You look really nice. Nice outfit.”
“Thanks. You look nice too.” She tugged at his nice plaid collar.
“Oh, let me introduce you to some of my friends.” He guided her toward another room where more people were drinking and socializing. They approached a tall, tanned white guy with dark brunette hair, who was laughing and talking with a few others. Porsha checked him out. He was wearing a sweater vest. Porsha was no fashionista, but a sweater vest? She gagged silently on the inside. That screamed bad news.
“John! Hey, who’s your friend?” He greeted, intrigued by his friends guest, with one hand in his pocket, and sipping his drink with the other.
“This is Porsha.”
“Well hello Porsha, nice to meet you. I’m Thomas. Just call me Tom.” He smiled and extended his hand to her. She shook his hand. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, just like John.
“Nice to meet you.” She replied in a soft voice.
“So, how did you two meet one another? I’ve never seen her around campus. Surely she’s not a GU student.” He said to John, while sipping his drink.
“Umm, no she isn’t. I met her at the coffee shop near the library.” John looked at Porsha, smiling.
“Ah, I see. Does she go to school nearby?”
Porsha was becoming a little bothered by his questions, and the fact that he was addressing John, not her. “I attend UDC. But I’m a regular at the coffee shop.”
Tom’s facial expression became uninterested. “UDC? Figures. I assume you’re from the southside of town?”
Porsha went from being slightly bothered to full on offended. “Actually, yes I am.” She replied with a hint of attitude.
“I’ve been to the southside once. My dad’s in the process of buying a property over there. Some run-down rec center. We’re turning it into condos.” Tom told her. Porsha’s eyes grew wide as she experienced a rush of anger. Here she was, standing in front of the person who was responsible for the demise of a place she loved. “That place is a dump. That whole neighborhood used to be a dump. But don’t worry, in a few years you’ll hardly recognize it.” Tom continued.
“That dump is my home! That rec center has been a staple of our community for years!” Porsha yelled.
John was becoming uncomfortable with the tension between Porsha and Tom. “Umm, Hey, maybe we should go grab another drink?” John asked her, with his hand on her back, trying to guide her away from the conversation.
“Well your home was in desperate need of change. People like me are making that happen. You should thank us.” Said Tom.
“Thank You? For pricing my people out of our own neighborhoods? Asshole!” Porsha threw her drink on Tom and stormed off.
“Not cool man.” John said to Tom right before running after Porsha. She was already outside when he caught up to her. “Porsha, wait!”
She stopped walking and turned around. “What?” She asked angrily.
“I’m sorry about Tom. He’s kind of an asshole.”
“Kind of?!”
“Ok... he’s a huge asshole. I’m sorry.” John scratched his head, feeling guilty. He was embarrassed by his friend’s treatment of Porsha. He walked closer toward her. “Really, I’m sorry.”
Porsha wasn’t mad at him, but felt that if those were the type of people John associated with, then she and him couldn’t possibly be friends. “It’s not your fault.” She let out a huge sigh. “Look, John, I think you’re really cute. You’re sweet and everything, but I just think we’re two completely different people.”
“So, we can’t be friends because my friends are assholes?”
“It’s not just that… you wouldn’t understand.”
“I’d like to.”
This caught Porsha by surprise. She wasn’t expecting him to push this hard. She could tell he really liked her and figured giving him a second chance wouldn’t hurt. After all, he did come after her. If he was really an asshole he would’ve just let her leave. “Let me show you something.”
“Alright… where?” He asked, curious but ready to go wherever she was headed.
“My side of town. But, I think we should get an Uber. It’s a little late for the train.”
***
Back on the southside of town, they were dropped off in front of the Riley Gibbs Rec Center. They got out of the car, and Porsha walked him toward the front door.
“So, this is the place? The one Tom’s dad is buying?” John asked, looking up at the building as they sat down on the steps.
“Yes. This center has been here since the 60’s. There’s not a soul under fifty in the neighborhood who didn’t love this place as a kid. It was like peace in the middle of chaos. It’s the one place the gangs wouldn’t come near. They knew better. Not only that, but public figures have even given speeches here. This place has way more significance than a place to play.” Porsha began to get emotional. “Now, it’s all going to be gone in three weeks.”
