Spin it Like That (12 page)

I looked at Derrick, and he nodded at me, silently asking me to stay, but I wasn't feeling it. “I'll come back and visit soon,” I said quietly as I grasped my keys.

Mama just gave me a sad smile before she walked over to me. “No matter what you think, our door is always open to you. I love you, and I miss you,” she said. She looked back at Derrick. “We all do.”

I didn't know what to say, so I just turned and walked out the door.

I thought about going back home the entire week leading up to the competition. I talked about it with T a couple of times, and as usual he encouraged me to make up with Mama and go back home, but I still wasn't feeling it. We had visited a few more houses, but none of them felt like home to me, so I passed on the chance to buy them.

The night before the competition I spent the night at T's house. I had never done that before, but it felt good to wake up in his arms. I was starting to think more and more about having sex with him, but every time the thought came to me, Kyle crossed my mind.

The morning of the competition, T presented me with breakfast in bed. As he fed me a strawberry, I couldn't help but smile. I reminded myself to remember every detail about the day, because once I won my record deal, it was going to be the day that changed my life.

“You nervous?” T asked.

“Of course not,” I said. “I never get nervous before a performance.”

“Are you and your brother going to practice today?”

“Only for a little while,” I said. “I hate that we didn't get to practice more, but we've been so busy.”

“You guys will be great,” he said, giving me a kiss.

“You're still coming, right?” I asked.

“I'll be in the front row,” he said.

T and I hung out for a few more hours before I headed to pick up Derrick.

“We're going to have to take your car,” he said the moment he let me in the house. I still had my key, but I felt funny just walking in.

“What's wrong with your clunker?” I asked.

“I think it needs a new battery,” he said.

“Why don't you just buy a new car?” I said.

“Because I like the one I have. Besides, everyone doesn't have a savings account like yours, Little Miss Moneybags,” he joked.

“You know I'll give you the money,” I said seriously.

“I know you will,” he said.

Derrick went to finish getting dressed. “Let's do it,” he said when he returned.

I turned to walk out the door. “Where are Mama and Daddy?” I asked when it finally occurred to me that the house was really quiet.

“They had some errands to run,” he said, “but they said they'd be at the competition.”

I looked at him in amazement. “Mama and Daddy are actually coming to see us perform?”

He grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I was shocked when they told me, too.”

We headed to the Apollo Theater in Harlem, and after signing in, we ran through our routine one more time. It still amazed me how well me and my brother vibed when we were onstage.

We went and grabbed a bite to eat after we finished; then we headed backstage to get dressed. I had bought us coordinating Rocawear outfits. We were going on last again.

I was sitting there chilling when I smelled cigar smoke. I looked up and smiled.

“Don't you see the no-smoking sign in here?” I teased.

DC laughed at me. He had on a pink suit with a white shirt and pink tie, as well as a pink hat and pink shoes. I'd always thought men looked funny in pink, but the outfit didn't look too bad on him.

“Miss Jasmine, how are you?” he asked, extending his arm for me to give him a hug.

“Hey, DC,” I said. “I didn't think you'd be here.”

He stuck his cigar in his mouth and spoke around it. “We've got to check out the competition,” he said, turning to the man behind him. “Right, Ron?”

“Oh, hey, Ron. I didn't even see you,” I said, giving him a hug, as well.

He just nodded at me before disappearing somewhere.

DC looked around to see if anyone was near us. “You know my offer still stands about giving you a record deal,” he said.

“Thanks, DC,” I said.

“I see you're up to your old tricks,” a deep voice said.

“Kevin, what's up?” DC said, giving the guy a brother-man handshake. “Jasmine, this is Kevin Mitchell, my protégé and the owner of Image Records.”

“It's nice to meet you, Kevin,” I said. “I guess we'll be working together pretty soon. I've already got some great ideas for my album. My boyfriend is going to be the producer.”

He laughed. “I love your enthusiasm,” he said. “Good luck tonight.”

“I don't need luck, but thanks anyway,” I said before he walked away.

DC looked at me once again. “Remember, the door is always open at DC Records,” he said.

I nodded and gave him another hug before he left.

I looked around for Derrick but I didn't see him anywhere, so I peeped behind the curtain and looked into the audience. The place was packed. It was only a few minutes before showtime, and as promised, T was sitting in the front row. DC went and sat right next to him, and they began talking like they knew each other.

I spotted Loretta and Kyle, and I tried to ignore how my heart sped up at the sight of Kyle. As though he could feel me staring, he glanced up and our eyes locked. I looked away, pretending I hadn't seen him, then searched for my brother and my parents, but with all the people I couldn't find them.

My gaze landed on T again, and he looked up and blew me a kiss, which I returned. He looked like he was about to get up and come backstage, but before he could, Robby Rob, an up-and-coming comedian who was emceeing the event, started the show.

“Good evening, and welcome to our first annual All-City Invitational. Before the night is over, someone will walk away with a record deal, y'all.”

The audience started applauding, and the reality of the evening hit me.

“You okay?” Derrick asked, coming from out of nowhere.

“Where've you been?” I asked, ignoring his question.

“Out front hanging with Kyle and Loretta,” he said.

I didn't get a chance to respond before the first group brushed past us to get onstage.

They were decent, as were the three acts that followed, but they had nothing on us.

When it was time for Derrick and me to hit the stage, my adrenaline kicked in, and as always, I let the music take control. I played harder than I had ever played before, and Derrick was rocking it so hard the entire audience was on its feet.

As rehearsed, Derrick made his way behind the turntable when I took center stage, and I lost myself in the music. I freestyled a rap; then I let loose with some Mary J. Blige–style singing that had grown men slapping five. I caught a brief glimpse of Mama and Daddy, and Mama was standing there with her mouth wide open in amazement.

Once I was done, I made my way back behind my turntable and scratched out one final beat, which signaled the end of our performance. As always, when we finished, I came from behind the table, Derrick and I grabbed hands and we took a bow before running off stage.

“Man, we killed it,” I said, giving Derrick a high five.

He nodded as sweat poured off him. I handed him a towel; then we waited for the results to be announced.

I saw Kevin of Image Records waiting backstage across the room, and he when gave me a slight nod, I knew we were in.

Finally, thirty minutes after our performance, all five groups were called back to the stage, and the third-place winner was called. I really tuned Kevin out, wishing he would call our name for the record deal.

It wasn't until a chorus of boos echoed around the room and I felt Derrick tugging my hand that I realized something was wrong.

“Come on,” he mouthed.

He led me to the stage, where we were handed a trophy and a check for five thousand dollars, but reality didn't set in until the first-place winner, the group from Staten Island, was called.

I just stared in amazement, knowing this had to be a nightmare. There was no way we had lost to such a wack group. Their performance couldn't compare to ours on any level.

I managed to get to the car before I broke down. Derrick started the car, and of all songs, the one I had recorded with Mocha Love blasted through the speakers. I snapped off the radio and cried even harder.

We were halfway home before Derrick spoke.

“I'm sorry, Jas. I know how much this meant to you,” he said.

I didn't say anything for a second, not really knowing what to say.

“It just wasn't meant to be,” he said. “Maybe this is your sign that you should really be going to college.”

I turned and glared at him. “You did this on purpose,” I said. “You didn't want a record deal, and you didn't want me to have one, either.”

“Come on, Jas. You know that's not true.”

“You make me sick,” I screamed. “Did Mama put you up to this?”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at me in amazement. “What would make you think we would mess this up for you?” he asked.

“I know how much Mama hates my music, and all you care about is going to college. You did this on purpose. You didn't do anything we practiced. Now that I think about it, you've been avoiding practicing all summer.”

“You know that's not—”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” I screamed. “You make me sick. I hate you!” My heart was beating so fast that I felt it in my ears, and I know my face had to be almost red with anger. I hadn't been that upset in a long time.

We had made it to Queens, and we stopped at a traffic light. I jumped out of the car, not even wanting to be in the same space as my brother.

“Jasmine, get back in here,” Derrick yelled, but I ignored him. “Jasmine, get in this car—now!”

“Leave me alone,” I said. I walked, not really sure where I was going.

I heard Derrick park the car, but I ignored him. When he came up behind me and grabbed my arm, I snatched it away.

“Jas, I'm sorry you lost,” he said, reaching for me again.

“No, you're not,” I said. “The only reason you performed is because I begged you to. You didn't want the record deal anyway.”

I tried to stop the tears from sliding down my cheeks, but they still came. I just stood there in silence for a while, stunned that I had lost. I had never lost anything in my life, and it hurt.

Derrick gave me a hug. “You know I've always had your back,” he said softly. “I'm sorry you lost, but it's not over. You're still going to get your record deal.”

He led me back to the car, and I took a deep breath, trying to get myself together to figure out my next move.

When I woke up the next morning, it took me a second to realize I was in my old bedroom. I didn't even remember falling asleep.

It was only eight in the morning, and although I had been asleep for almost eight hours, it felt like I hadn't gotten any rest. I wanted to believe the night before was just a bad dream, but the way I was feeling told me it wasn't.

I finally got out of bed two hours later. It was Sunday, and I assumed that everyone had gone to church, but when I walked into the kitchen, Mama was sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee.

When she saw me, she walked over to me and just wrapped me in her arms. “You did a great job last night. I'm sorry you didn't win,” she said.

Her words made me angry all over again. “No, you're not,” I said. “You've never wanted me to have a deal, either. You hate my music. That's part of the reason I moved out.”

Mama looked at me, and I noticed a sadness in her eyes. “Baby, I don't hate your music,” she said, leading me to the table. After I was seated, she busied herself making pancakes.

We sat in silence for a while, and just when I decided that I was going to head back to Loretta's house, she spoke. “You know, your daddy loved his music, and I was really happy for him when he, your uncle and Chubby landed their record deal.”

“You were?” I asked skeptically.

She nodded and smiled as though she was thinking about the past. “We spent so many nights in the recording studio that it didn't make sense, and I was at every gig.”

“You were?” I asked.

She nodded and took a seat across from me. “I was your daddy's biggest fan. When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted him to go ahead and pursue his music, but his mother talked him into letting it go—said he needed something more stable for his family. He was depressed for a long time, and I tried to talk him into going back to his music, but he didn't. I didn't understand why until years later, when I found out that Chubby had talked them into some crazy deal, and if they didn't deliver the people were going to kill your father and uncle. I thought your father was working overtime at his job, but really he was recording—songs he never saw one cent of the money for. It took him years to pay off those debts, but even still, he loved the music. Seeing him work so hard with nothing to show for it made me angry. I got to the point where just seeing an instrument made me sick to my stomach. When he finally made good on the contract, he put away his instruments for a few years, and we had a good life—until that day you found that turntable.”