“Uhmm, Jayd, we need to get some air,” Chance says, sensing the vibe tensing up. Jeremy gets up with him and I decide to go too.
“Don't leave on my account,” KJ says to me as I follow Jeremy outside.
“Oh, don't worry. I am,” I say, giving him the evil eye before shooting a look at Nellie, who just looks like she was waiting for me to go. I hope she doesn't think she's about to take over my Drama friends because she's one of their nominees. I'm trying to tell her these White folks up here are cool, but they ain't that cool. But, it looks like she's just going to have to fall on her own.
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After leaving Chance at the bong house, Jeremy and I decide to leave and continue our evening at our favorite spot: the beach, which is the perfect place for us to talk more seriously about our relationship. Finally working up the guts, I decide to ask Jeremy the question that's been on my mind all night.
“Do you think we match?” I ask as we walk barefoot on the cold sand. I'm a little afraid of his answer. I think we make a cute couple and the attraction is definitely there. But, it seems we're just too different on a basic level.
“Why would you ask me that?” Jeremy replies.
“Well, it just seems this entire homecoming dance has put a strain on our relationship and I just want to know if you think I'm still a good match for you. Look, things have been real tense with us this evening and we haven't really had a chance to vibe,” I say, hoping to ease at least a little of the tension between us. “Do you realize you haven't given me a kiss all night?”
“Jayd, I think you are the perfect match for me,” he says, stopping our slow stride and pulling me into him. He kisses my forehead, my nose and then sucks on my neck like a gentle vampire. It feels so good I forget all about whatever issues we may have. I just want to stay in his arms for as long as I can.
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When we get back to the car after what seems like hours of making out, he whips out a package from the backseat.
“Just because you won't have a date doesn't mean you shouldn't be the best-dressed girl there.” The box has the logo of the store in the Marina with my red dream dress.
“Oh, Jeremy,” I say, opening the box to reveal the silky gown. “I don't know what to say.”
“How about you forgive me,” he says, tilting my head toward his, kissing me. “I'm really sorry things are off to a bad start with this whole dance and all. But, that's just how my family is. I hope you understand and don't get scared off,” he says, kissing me between each word.
“OK. But, only if you forgive me too,” I say, opening the small visor mirror to catch the reflection of the bright fabric against my skin. Who am I to judge someone's family? Wait until he finds out about mine. Admiring my reflection, I notice several small marks on my neck. Oh, hell no he didn't.
“Jeremy, look what you did,” I say, forgetting all about the dress as visions of Mama's hand across my face play in my head. She's going to kill me when she sees these marks all over my neck. She already thinks I'm too distracted by the boys in my life. Now there's physical proof that I've been spending too much time with Jeremy, or at least I know that's how she'll see it.
“Damn, baby. You bruise easily,” he says, sounding as surprised as me by the hickeys on my neck. “Well, at least you can hide them with a scarf or something,” he says, smiling like he's just marked his territory. I know that look. The first time I got a hickey was from Raheem and it wasn't on my neck. We were smart enough not to leave evidence where parents could see, like on my thighs or his chest, while still letting others know this person was taken.
“Jeremy, you can't go marking me up like a cat pissing on a couch,” I say, flattered and vexed all at once.
“I'm sorry. I really didn't think I'd mark you up,” he says, placing my dress back in the backseat before starting the car. “But, a little makeup should work.” I hope he's right. Maybe my mom will have some sympathy on me and help me blend together some foundation to hide them from Mama before I get home tomorrow night.
12
Whose House
“Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me.”
âJAY-Z
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hen I get home from work this afternoon, my mom helps me hide my hickeys with some bomb foundation from Clinique. I can't see a thing and hopefully neither will anyone else. I also do my hair before we leave. Since she isn't in a rush for a date or anything, I get to stay a little later than usual, which is always a relief.
“Don't forget to pack your foundation, Jayd,” my mom says from her bedroom. “It's sitting in here on my dresser.” I rise from my spot on the couch to go to her room and retrieve the makeup.
I would give anything for my own room, especially if I could decorate it. My mom has good taste. Her room is spacious enough to fit her queen-size bed and oak frame, two nightstands, and a dresser drawer with a vanity attached comfortably. She has mirrors on the back of her closet doors, saving her some space.
“Thanks for helping me with this,” I say as I pick up the small bottle of brown liquid. We had to blend a few different shades to get it to look right.
“Not a problem, girl. Just be careful with those boys, Jayd. If I learned anything from the little bit of history in Mama's spirit book I did read, it's that men can get you into a whole lot of bull. Our stories aren't the fairy tales you see in the movies, but they're just as fascinating and filled with lessons like any you see in the video store. I always preferred reading about Mama's sheroes, as she calls them, than reading my lessons or the prayers,” my mom says, sitting up on the edge of her bed and slipping on her sandals.
“I know. I have to finish reading Maman's story when I get home. And, I won't be getting anymore hickeys, I promise.”
“I hope not. Coming home with marks all over your body is the quickest way to get on Mama's bad side for a long, long time. That's why I had to get out of her house as quick as possible. Between the hickeys and the tattoos, my days on earth were numbered as far as Mama was concerned.” I can only imagine my mom living in the house with all of her brothers and Mama and Daddy. Looking at her now, I can't imagine her living with anyone else, which still makes me wonder why she would allow her only daughter to grow up under the same conditions. But, questioning my path doesn't change it so, back to Mama's house I go.
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After picking out my clothes for tomorrow and catching up with Mama, I decide to come out to Mama's spirit room and catch up on my studying. Our conversation was a bit icy this evening, so I know she's still pissed at me. Besides, I really want to finish Maman Marie's story and learn more about Mama's sheroes, too. But, Maman is my top priority right now. I can't be out here all night.
It's always quiet back here, even when there's a bunch of drama going on in the main house. And, with Lexi guarding the door whenever someone's in here, no drama is allowed back here at any time.
“Maman Marie. Have you heard this story before?” I ask Lexi as she makes herself comfortable across the threshold. It must be nice to be a dog. She looks up at me and gives a nod as if to say “Of course, I have. Haven't you?”
“Oh, hush. I get enough heat from Mama. I don't need you sweating me too.” Ignoring me completely, she falls off into her own dreams.
Sitting on the wooden stool, I put the heavy book on the worktable and turn to the chapter on Maman. Now, where was I? It's such a long story, with sketches of her and Jon Paul on most of the pages. Some sketches are of them smiling, some yelling, some with just one or the other and some incomplete. I wonder who the artist is?
One sketch in particular catches my attention. It's a picture of Jon choking Maman. And, on the next page a large woman appears over their heads, stopping Jon from killing Maman. The woman has a head wrap on, like the ones Mama wears when she's working. After reading further into Maman's history, I learn the spirit in the picture with Jon is Marie La Veau, Maman's namesake and a famous voodoo queen in New Orleans. If a woman has problems with a lover, she can call on the queen to help her in her time of need.
“Jayd,” Mama said, “it's too late for you to be out there by yourself,” Jay yells from the back door. Tomorrow's Monday and I need to get some sleep for the long week ahead of me. I guess I'll have to finish Maman's story another time. But, at least I got something out of her story. When the road gets too hard to walk alone, call on spiritual help to see you through. That's what I'll need to do to survive homecoming week. It's here and I'm not ready for any of the drama with Nellie, Raheem or Jeremy. But, I'll have to be if I want to make it though and be victorious, no matter how hard Nellie's tripping.
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When I get to school this morning, the entire campus is dripping with red-and-white streamers. There are signs everywhere announcing the homecoming activities planned for the week. There are also signs with all the homecoming nominees plastered everywhere, including Nellie, and for the pep rally today, officially kicking off homecoming week.
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“That bitch is on one,” Mickey says, referring to our friend with the swollen ego. Nellie's been getting on her nerves all weekend too. And, Mickey's patience wears out much quicker than mine. So, I know she's at her peak.
“I know what you mean,” I say. She's been rubbing me the wrong way too and enough's enough. She needs to be checked and I'm going to do it.
“I couldn't even stand to go to the party with her on Saturday because she pissed me off at the mall earlier, not like I really wanted to be around all those White folks on the weekend anyway,” Mickey says, continuing to vent. As we walk toward the football field, with the rest of the pep rally crowd, I see Nigel and wave for him to come over. He should be with the rest of the football team who's probably already on the field.
“Why, what happened at the mall?” I ask Mickey. I'd rather her get her tirade out before my boy gets over here. No sense in everyone knowing our business.
“She tried on damn near every dress in Betsey Johnson and then had the nerve not to buy a single one,” Mickey says. Mickey gets very emotional, especially when it comes to some of Nellie's selfish behavior.
“Well, why you didn't just leave her there? Lord knows you've done it enough times before,” I say, telling the truth.
“I did. That's why she's avoiding me this morning. I think she called Chance to come and get her ass from Beverly Hills. She needs to get a license or a bus pass, because I'm done being her damn driver,” Mickey says, finishing her story just as Nigel gets here.
“Hey, Jayd, Mickey,” he says, shining his biggest player smile at my girl. He's really feeling her. And, from the looks of it, Mickey likes the attention.
“What's up, Nigel,” Mickey says, giving him a hug. Since when are they hugging? I asked her to pump information from him. But, I didn't know they were friends now.
“Is there something I need to know?” I say to them as they're still locked in each other's arms. What the hell? I wonder if Nellie knows Mickey's her actual threat and not me. Oh, this is going to be some shit.
“Mickey, what are you thinking?” I say, pulling her away from Nigel, who's just grinning. “What are you laughing at?” I say, pushing him as we continue toward the rally.
“You, trying to play like we all ain't got a little something on the side,” he says, putting himself between me and Mickey as we walk down the steep hill toward the bottom bleachers as the rest of the lunch crowd settles in around us. This is when I can see just how big and White the student population really is.
“We all don't. And, don't get me all twisted up in whatever mess y'all stirring up. I don't want to know nothing,” I say, serious as a heart attack. I have enough problems without managing one of Mickey's illustrious affairs. That's usually Nellie's department even though she hates doing it. But, I guess I've moved up the home girl notch for Mickey until Nellie comes back to her senses.
“Well, that's going to be kind of hard to do since I invited Mickey to the studio Saturday,” Nigel drops before heading to the field with the rest of the team.
“The studio?” I ask, pissed that, yet again, my territory has been invaded. I feel like Califia. And, also like her, I'm about to wage war. “You can't come to the studio. What about your man?” I ask.
“What about yours?” she says. And just like that, I'm the one who's checked. But, not so fast.
“I'm actually bringing Jeremy this weekend. You should invite your man too and we can make it a little party,” I say. I haven't invited Jeremy yet, but I was planning on it. I was going to wait and see how homecoming played out on Friday before saying anything to him though. But I'm sure he'll be game.
“Very funny, Jayd,” she says, not amused. “This is our little secret, OK? Not even Nellie can know,” Mickey says.
“Whose house?” Reid shouts through the bullhorn from the center of the makeshift stage in the middle of the field.
“Shark's house!” the crowd roars. We can't help but get swept away with the current.
“Whose house?” he yells again, wanting a louder response.
“Shark's house!” and, the music begins. The crowd goes wild as the ASB spirit squad comes out dancing to the marching band's vibrant beat. I love pep rallies. When I was a member of ASB, I was on the spirit squad. I even wore the lady shark mascot last year, and Reid was, of course, the male. But, I'm sure he's turned that job over to someone else, now that he's taken on deeper waters and bigger prey as president this year.
After the first performance by ASB, the rest of the week's activities are announced. The athletes and cheerleaders will have a step show tomorrow after the tug-of-war and South Bay history challenge. Chance and I perform for the Drama Club on Wednesday, after the potato sack and egg race, with Thursday left for the awards presentation for the week's activities and the pre-pep rally for the homecoming game on Friday.
“Do you think Nellie's going to win?” Mickey says, as we move with the crowd toward fifth period.
“As her campaign manger I have to say yes,” I say. What a joke. My own candidate is treating me like crap. I guess Ms. Toni was right about this manager job being political.
“Yeah, but do you really think she has a chance at winning?” Mickey says, looking for Nigel in the crowd. I don't even bother looking for Jeremy, who informed me in the class this morning he wouldn't be attending. Instead, he, Matt, and Seth went to eat off campus, as usual. He has no school spirit at all.
“If transforming into a complete bitch to get the crown is an indicator of success, then yes. She has an excellent chance at winning,” I say, noticing Nellie hanging with Tania and the other Drama candidates on the field with the football players. Nigel's down there with her. But, as soon as he sees Mickey and me, he leaves her and heads our way, making Nellie look right at us. I hope she doesn't think he's coming up here to see me.
Before he reaches us, Nellie heads off the field and toward the girls locker room, following Tania and Tania's friends. I wish she could see I'm not her enemy and that those girls just might be. They're the kind to sabotage a member of their own crew over jealousy. And she has to remember that Tania's a hater of mine, making herself a potential hater victim by association. Nellie's just lost all sense of reason going after this damn crown. I can't wait until this week's over.
Just as we think we've seen the last performance of the day and head to fifth period, a small crowd circles around the main lunch quad, near South Central. As Mickey, Nigel, and I head over to see what all the commotion's about, KJ's loud voice can be heard, leading a chant.
“Whose house?” he says, but in a slightly deeper voice than Reid's and with a completely different rhythm.
“Our house!” the other athletes respond from behind him, forming a single line. Then, Kendra, the lead cheerleader and the only Black girl on the varsity squad this year, hollers back.
“Whose house?” she says, leading the rest of the cheerleaders in a single-file line, next to the Athletes.
“Our house!” And the mini step show begins.
“Show-offs,” I say, hating they used today as a preview for their show tomorrow. I have to admit, they're good. It was a smart campaign move, though. Now, everyone's going to be all hyped about the step show tomorrow, keeping the athletes' and cheerleaders' candidates in their heads, just like ASB does with every pep rally they get to host. Drama Club always gets the least exposure just by the nature of the campus's social structure. But usually we only need one shot to win over an audience.
When Chance and I perform together, we're just that good. And, with the help of the stage crew and Seth's creative set design, our show is going to be off the chain. We have rehearsal scheduled every day after school and before school on Wednesday morning. Chance is a great performer and I'm pretty good and we're both fast learners. Alia choreographed our routine and Matt and Leslie wrote the script, setting up the stage so we're inside a club. We are going to get this party started and show them whose house this really is.