Butterfly (19 page)

“Yes.”

“What's your number?”

“Four-zero-four, five-five-five, six-two-six-three.”

Jeremy dialed my number and then my cell phone rang. I answered it and Jeremy laughed. “Lock me in.”

I smiled at Jeremy and said, “I got you locked in. Now what?”

“I'll tell you what, when I talk to you after these tryouts.”

“Okay.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

Jeremy jogged back to his coach and they sat down and talked. As his coach talked to him, he kept looking over the coach's shoulder to catch a glimpse of me. And believe me, I was looking right back.

“Later?” Bri chuckled.

“Be quiet!”

“Later? What is this, 1975?”

“Shut up, girl.” I laughed. “What's up with your,
‘a'ight then.'”

“I can't believe Jeremy came over here in front of everybody and talked to you like that. I've been in class with him for two weeks and he has never said one word to any girl in that class.”

“He didn't just come over here to talk to me; the ball inadvertently bounced on my lap.”

“That dude ran past two or three guys to get to that ball because he wanted to say something to you.”

“What's the big deal? He's just a boy, that's all.”

“That boy could be playing in the NBA next year.”

“So?”

“So? You could be dating an NBA basketball star.”

“First of all, I may not know a lot about sports like you, but I
do know that you have to play at least one year in college before you can go to the NBA. Secondly, he looks pretty good out there, but I don't see pro-ball caliber.”

As I was talking, Jeremy shot a long ball from almost half court and then looked as if he was on cue to show me his skills.

“Did you see that?” Bri was so excited.

“I don't care about that stuff, Bri.”

“I bet you care when he's drafted to the NBA.”

“That's not me, I'm telling you. I'm not into that stuff.”

“Whatever, Butterfly.”

I did not put my cell phone down the entire night, and guess what? Jeremy did not call the entire night. I was pissed off! I do not like to have an emotional dependency on boys. Ms. Alicia taught me that. She said that I should not depend on the opinion, or the attention, of boys to feel good about myself. I put myself in that position that night I waited on Jeremy to call me.

The next day, he was waiting for me in front of my first-period class. I walked past him as if I did not see him. He stopped me and tried to talk to me, but of course, I was full of attitude.

“Hey, Butterfly.”

“Hey.”

I was going into my class, but Jeremy reached out for my hand and pulled me to the side. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you acting funny?”

“I'm not acting funny.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Do I have a reason to be mad at you?”

Jeremy looked around the hallway as if the answer was written on the walls. Then he stared at me like I was going to answer the question for him...so I did.

“I don't like waiting on people to call me, Jeremy.”

“Oh, my bad, I wanted to call last night, but my father said I had to study, and he would not let me use my cell phone.”

What? The boy was a prospect for the NBA and his father was still telling him when he could, and could not use his cell phone? Under any other circumstance, I would have been proud that his father was making sure he handled his business, but in that case, I wanted him to call me.

“Whatever.”

“No, I'm serious. I have to keep my grades up if I want to get into a good college. I'm struggling in two courses: math and history. If I don't pull those grades up, I may not even graduate. I had to transfer to a history class today just to...”

“Okay! Okay! I believe you.”

“So can we meet for lunch? That's even better than a phone call, right?”

“I guess.”

“I'll pick you up in the front of the gym, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

What is up with this dude always saying this “later” mess? And why can't I stop myself from saying it? I walked into my first period and Mr. Thompson was on full blast.

“Okay, people, today is the day I hire the producer for the show. I have three final candidates: Ms. Tracy Mueller, Mr. Stephen Glad and Ms. Shante Clemmons. And the producer for our show will be...”

I only had applied for the position of producer because Mr. Thompson forced all of the seniors in the class to do so. I really did not even want to be bothered with being in charge of the
production because I felt it would take away study time from my other classes. As Mr. Thompson gave his version of the drum roll, I was silently praying that he would not call my name.

“...Ms. Clemmons. Congratulations, Ms. Clemmons!”

“Thank you, Mr. Thompson.”

“Come on up and speak to your production company.”

I walked to the front of the class and I did not have a clue of what I was going to say. I looked at the class and then I looked at Mr. Thompson.

“I don't know what to say, y'all.” The class laughed and it made me feel comfortable. “I will do all that I can to make sure we have the best production DCA has ever seen. I hope I can get all of your support, so that all of us can get that ‘
A'
at the end of the year. I'm open to any and all suggestions, but I hope nobody gets mad at me if I don't use them all.”

“What do I have to do to be the stage manager?” Asia asked.

“Apply, right, Mr. Thompson?”

“You tell me, Ms. Clemmons.”

“Okay, Asia, you can turn in your application and I will give you an interview,” I looked at Mr. Thompson, “Is that okay, Mr. Thompson?”

“I don't know, is it?”

“To make this easy, everybody just turn in their application for the positions they want to work, and I'll hire people based on who I think is best for the position and where I think we need the most help. I want you all to know that everybody can't be the director, and everybody can't be the stage manager, and everybody can't be a part of the cast. But everybody can be just as important. That's it!”

“You sound like me up there.” Mr. Thompson clapped his hands as he walked back in front of the class. I walked back to my seat. “Okay, everybody listen up. Last semester you were graded on the logistics of running a production. This semester you will be
graded on the actual production. I suggest that you give Ms. Clemmons all the support she needs and follow her instructions.”

I had never been a leader over anything but myself. I was not comfortable in the position, but I was prepared to do what was necessary to have a successful performance.

My third-period class was history. That was my favorite subject, but my second favorite class behind my drama class. Mr. Thompson be going ham and I liked the way he taught us. But like I said, history was my favorite subject.

My history teacher was Ms. Jamerson. She was white, young and pretty, and all of the boys liked being in her class. She was short, about five-foot two inches tall. She had jet-black, silky hair that was full and bouncy. She had an athletic-type body, and she always wore clingy clothes to accentuate her positive features. A lot of the female student body did not like her because she was so pretty but shoot, I felt like, if you got it, flaunt it.

I liked to get to history class early because we did not have assigned seats. I tried to always sit up front, so that I did not have to deal with the childish playing they did in the back of the class. That day was no different. I went straight from my second period to my third-period class and sat in the front row.

I rarely paid attention when my classmates entered the room. I usually kept my eyes and head forward and waited for Ms. Jamerson to begin class. I sensed something was a little different that day, and lo and behold, when I looked at the door, Jeremy walked through it. I turned my head around quickly and looked at Ms. Jamerson. He walked three rows over to my aisle and spoke to me and then walked to the back of the class.

After class, he caught up with me as I was walking out. I told Bri I would take her to get something to eat because I had forgotten about my lunch date with Jeremy.

“Hey, where you going, Butterfly? I thought we had a date.”

“I'm sorry, I forgot about that. I have to take my cousin to get something to eat.”

“Does that mean you're standing me up?”

“I'm sorry, Jeremy, but I promised my cousin.”

“I can take your cousin to get something to eat...as long as you come with us.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it's no problem.”

“Okay, I'll tell her we'll pick her up in front of the gym.”

“Cool.”

I called Bri and she met us in front of the gym. Jeremy had a brand-new 2010 Yukon SUV. The truck was beautiful! Too brand-new and too beautiful for a high school student to afford. At first I thought he may have been secretly paid by some college booster looking to improve their alma mater. But actually, his father was a former NBA player and his mother was an attorney, so they had money coming out of the yin-yang! That also explained why he could not talk to me on the phone the night before. His parents knew firsthand the importance of an education and the distractions that could keep him from going to college, or possibly playing in the NBA. But the weekend was ours!

We continued to date and within a month, we were officially a couple. I was selected to the cheerleading squad, which meant I traveled with the basketball team for the away games. It also meant that I got to spend even more time with Jeremy. We sat together on the bus and pretty much kept to ourselves.

I was in love and wanted to know if he was in love, too. I asked him one night on our way back from a game, and he told me that he had wanted to bring up the subject for a long time. I was on top of the world! But whenever you are on top of anything, there is always that chance that you are going to come crashing down.

V
alentine's Day was the coming Monday, so Jeremy and I made plans for a romantic dinner. We reserved our dinner for Ruth's Chris on Roswell Road. We had to schedule it for Saturday night, which was actually the twelfth, because that Sunday was the day I had my monthly visit with my dad.

Since we had gotten so serious in our relationship, we decided that it was time to meet the parents. I asked the Forresters if Jeremy could come over for dinner that Friday night to meet them. When I told them who he was, Dr. Forrester was ecstatic! Pa-Pa was beside himself! But Ms. Alicia, she wasn't having it. She thought that Jeremy was too popular to be with one girl and that he was going to eventually hurt me. Thank goodness the men folk were able to convince her to give him a chance.

When Jeremy showed up, he brought Ms. Alicia and me flowers. He sat in the den with Dr. Forrester and Pa-Pa and answered each one of their many, many questions. It worked out well for him that all of their questions pertained to sports and not me. They gave me their immediate approval and then we ate dinner. After we ate, it was Ms. Alicia's turn to do her part of the interview process. She arranged that only she, Jeremy and I would be present when she talked to us.

“Where are you going to college, Jeremy?”

“I don't know yet, ma'am.”

“Uh-huhn, do you have any idea?”

“I mean, I have a few choices but nothing definite.”

“And they are?”

“My choices?”

“Yes, your choices.”

“Uh, Connecticut, Syracuse, Michigan State and uh...” Jeremy looked at me and realized he should be mentioning a nearby school. “...uh, Georgia Tech.”

“Any frontrunners?”

“No, ma'am.”

“I like you, and I think you're a really nice young man, but I have to be honest with you. I'm concerned about what's going to happen to Shante when you go off to college, or to the NBA.”

“Mrs. Forrester?”

“Uh-huhn?”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I love Butterfly, I mean Shante, Mrs. Forrester. I don't know what's going to happen to me, just like she doesn't know what's going to happen to her. But I do know that I would never try to intentionally hurt her, just like I feel she would not try to intentionally hurt me. My parents have sheltered me to the point where I have almost no friends. Shante is more than just a girlfriend; she's my friend. Over the next three months, my family and I will be making the most important decision of my life. Not just for my basketball future, but for my academic future as well. I want Shante to be a part of that.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Jeremy. But just like you have your parents to protect you, I have to do that for my child.”

My mind was stuck on Ms. Alicia saying that I was her child. I had been with the Forresters for a little over six months and we
had actually become a family. The family I had always wanted. The family I had always dreamed of. But, on the other hand, because of that family connection, my family was ruining my opportunity for the boy I loved.