The Fight (10 page)

“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 Beyonce?” 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

—
OUTKAST

“J
ayd, 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.

“Matt, can I use your bathroom?” I ask, trying not to inhale the smoke or scratch up the cars. Nellie's looking around in awe.

“Sure thing.” Matt leads me through the crowded room to the back where there's a separate office area with a bathroom inside. When I turn on the lights, I see this is no ordinary bathroom.

“Damn,” Nellie says, following me into the black and silver marble bathroom. “This is the baddest bathroom I've ever been in.”

“It's just a place to crap. Enjoy,” Matt says, turning around and closing the door behind him.

“Jayd, do you see this?” Nellie says, playing with the automatic brass faucet.

“Nellie, you act like you ain't never been nowhere before,” I say, looking for my MAC Lipglass. I haven't seen Jeremy yet, but when I do, I want to be as cute as possible.

“Hold my backpack while I freshen up,” I say, handing my heavy Jansport to Nellie.

“Jayd, what do you have in this bag, girl? KJ's ego?” she jokes, practically dropping the bag on her foot.

“That was a good one, Nellie,” I laugh while carefully applying my Chestnut liner before coating my lips with gloss. “Be careful. My purse and charm bag are in there.”

“It feels like you got the whole damn winter Coach collection in here. How the hell you suppose to look cute with this thing on your back?” She's got a good point. But, I don't have anywhere else to leave my bag while I socialize.

“Where's your backpack?” I ask, noticing for the first time that she only has her purse.

“I left it in my locker,” Nellie says, totally unconcerned.

“How are you going to do your homework?” I ask, stunned at my girl's lack of interest in her education. She cracks me up sometimes.

“What homework? Girl, it's Back to School Night and the first week of school. You got homework in your classes?” she asks while taking my lip gloss from my hand and applying some to her bottom lip.

“Yes, I have quite a bit of homework,” I say, slightly resentful at the huge difference between A.P. and General Ed. courses. There's got to be a happy medium between the two.

“Hey, do you think his dad is a lawyer? Who else could bling like this?” Nellie asks while checking herself out one last time.

“I don't know. But, whatever he is, he ain't hurting for nothing,” I say, momentarily envying Matt's life. Why couldn't I have been born with rich parents?

“Well, my family ain't hurting either, but we ain't rolling like this. This, Jayd, is OG.” Nellie opens the bathroom door to return to the gathering, but I stay behind to finish up my business.

“I'll be right there. I still have to pee,” I say, closing the door behind her.

“Hurry up. I don't know any of these people,” Nellie says.

“Well, just wait a minute and we can walk in together,” I say through the door.

“What's up?” I hear a male voice say to Nellie. “Talking to yourself?” he asks.

“My girl's in the bathroom. I don't think we've met. I'm Nellie.”

“Hey, I'm Jeremy.” And, there he was, my future baby daddy, outside chatting with my girl while I'm squatting on the fanciest toilet ever.

“Well, I've certainly heard a lot about you,” Nellie says, about to blow my cover. Just then, I flush the toilet to shut her ass up. I wash and dry my hands on the pretty silver towels hanging from the beautiful brass towel rack. Mama would have a heart attack if we used the good towels to wipe our hands. Those towels are for guests only. And, here I'm the guest.

“Hey, Jeremy,” I say, rushing out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Jayd. I heard you were here. How's it going?” he asks while squeezing past me to get to the bathroom, almost brushing his chest up against mine. Damn, he smells good.

“Excuse me,” he says, smiling down at me.

“You're excused,” I say, returning his smile and wishing I could just hug him up right now.

“I'll see you in the other room,” I say, not wanting to leave. But, the boy has his own business to handle.

When Nellie and I return to the main room, the lights are on and the door leading to the backyard is open. People are hanging out by the pool and going in and out of the pool house. How big is this place? Nellie and I take a seat on the couch opposite the door, next to my Benz.

“Hey, girls. Can I offer you a drink?” Matt says, gesturing toward the wet bar on the other side of the room.

“No, I don't drink,” I say, feeling a little awkward.

“You don't drink water, Coke, Dr. Pepper, or juice either?” he says, trying to be funny. “We also have hot tea, coffee, and a cappuccino maker. Just let me know and I'll get it for you,” he says, turning toward Nellie.

“And, how about you?”

“I'll have a Vodka Cosmopolitan up, please,” Nellie says, like she's on
Sex and the City
.

“You got it,” Matt says, slightly amused by Nellie's ghetto boujie attitude.

When Matt leaves, I call her on her order. “Nellie, you don't drink,” I say, pinching her in the arm.

“I know that. But I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb, like you do,” she says, pinching me back. “Besides, I've always wanted to order a martini.” And she's right. I'm the only one here that's not drinking or smoking something. I'm inclined to take a hit of someone's Newport, but I don't want to start that filthy habit. Almost everyone I know smokes, except for Mama. She says she can remember picking tobacco as a little girl back in New Orleans and would be damned if she's gone give them one cent of her money after all that labor she basically did for free.

“Are you ladies enjoying yourselves?” Jeremy asks, taking us both by surprise. “Matt said this belongs to you,” he says, handing Nellie her drink.

“Yes, I am. Y'all White boys sure know how to throw a party,” Nellie says, looking around for any available boys to flirt with.

“I love coming over here, but I've never been in the basement before,” I say, publicly acknowledging that I'm not a full-fledged part of this clique either.

“Yeah, this house is phat,” Nellie says, still scoping the scene. “I think I'm going to take a walk outside,” she says, suddenly becoming bold. She gets up and leaves me alone with Jeremy.

“I'm glad you decided to come down here and kick it with us. We're not so bad, are we?” he asks, taking a sip of his Guiness.

“Well, I don't know about all that. But, I'm glad I came too,” I say, scooting over so he can sit down next to me.

“How do you like the cars?” he asks, spreading his legs to make himself more comfortable on the tiny couch. He's got to be at least 6 feet 4 inches.

“They're nice,” I say. My grandfather would be in heaven.

“I saw you at the mall today,” he says. “I tried to walk over to where you were, but there was some sort of commotion, and I needed to get back here, so I'm sorry I didn't say anything,” he says, like he just lost my favorite pen. Why is he apologizing to me? I didn't even think he saw me, or would have gone out of his way to speak, for that matter.

“I saw you too. But, I don't think you owe me an apology for not speaking.”

“Yes, I do. We're friends now, right? It's rude not to speak to your friends,” he says, putting his beer down on the table next to the couch.

“Oh, so we're friends now, right?” I say, challenging his intentions. This White boy thinks he got game. He doesn't know I'm being schooled right now by KJ. I can top any game he brings.

“Yeah, we're friends. Everybody here is friends in some way,” he says, looking past me and out the door, toward Nellie.

“Well, I can see you've made yourselves comfortable,” Nellie says, coming back in from the pool with the same amount of drink in her glass she had when she left the room.

“Nellie, why don't you just put that down. You haven't touched it since Jeremy gave it to you,” I say.

“Jayd, like I told you before, it's the look that matters, baby, the look,” she says, bringing the glass to her face and pretending to take a sip. She's so silly; that's why she's my girl.

“So, guess what I just heard from Mickey?” Nellie says, like an international spy committing espionage.

“She called. What did you hear?” I say, teasingly.

“I heard that Trecee's only sleeping with KJ because he had a better car than the dude that she just broke up with over the summer,” she says, tapping on my legs like she always does when she gets excited.

“KJ's car ain't all that. Her old Negro must've had a Pinto,” I say, laughing at how girls can be so ridiculous sometimes. The girls in my hood rate guys according to three things: their gear, their hair, and their ride. That's how they decipher a dude's character: by how much cheddar he has.

“Well, ever since he tweeked his ride out last year, girls have been dropping the cookies in his lap like he's the cookie monster,” Nellie says, putting her fist out for dap, for which I leave her hanging.

“Nellie, all girls don't care about material things,” I say, refusing to put myself anywhere near Trecee's category. I'm nothing like that girl.

“But, you got to admit,” Nellie says, focusing her energy toward Jeremy, “girls like the cars with the booming systems, right Jeremy?”

“Yeah, I think girls like dudes with nice rides. But, it's up to the girl not to equate herself with the car,” he says. I'm surprised by his comment. For some reason, I didn't expect him to be as smart as he seems.

“Well, Jeremy. It sounds like you have a little experience in this department,” I say. “So tell me then, why is it that dudes are never satisfied with one girl? It's like they get these cars or tweek out the ones they already have to attract as many girls as possible. What's that about?” I ask, just knowing he can't answer my question.

“Well, it's all a game,” he says, reaching for his beer. “Dudes at this age just want to have sex. Period. And, if you can do it while playing with a fine toy such as a car, why not?” he says, taking a huge gulp of his beer.

“Are you joking?” Nellie says. I know better than to take him seriously. I've already got Jeremy pegged as an instigator. He likes to have his fun.

“No, I'm not. Think about it; how many guys do you know with shitty cars who still have girls jocking them?” He's got a good point. If it weren't for KJ, Del and C Money wouldn't get any play and they'd be at the bus stop with me.

“That doesn't make it acceptable,” I say, ready for a good challenge. “You sound as if you're advocating the use of a vehicle to lure girls into bed.”

“Not at all. I'm just saying girls like dudes with nice cars and guys like to have sex. It's an even exchange,” Jeremy says with a very cunning smile on his face. This boy thinks he's got me right where he wants me.

“So, you wouldn't be hurt if a girl left you for a guy with a better car?” I retort.

“Not at all. But, finding a dude with a better car than me would mean that I know the dude because he would be me,” he says, proud of his wit.

“What the hell does that mean?” Nellie says, lost in translation. I think she must've got a contact high when she went to the pool house. I'm sure they're smoking up a storm in there. I'll stick with the secondhand cigarette smoke in here. That way Mama won't be suspicious when I come home. Cigarette smoke is as common as homeless people at the bus stop.

“That means he thinks his car is the hottest shit around,” I say, giving her my quick version of his cocky words. “And, I agree; your car is nice. But the driver of any of these cars in this room would have a better chance at getting my cookies before you,” I say, really kicking my flirting up a notch.

“Is that right?” he asks, readjusting his position to face me directly. “Funny, you never struck me as the type to exchange her cookies for cheddar,” he says, looking me up and down, slowly waiting for my comeback.

“Well, you're right. But that doesn't mean that a guy can step to me with anything less than what I'm offering, understand?” I say, returning his strong gaze. I love his confidence. Just as Jeremy's gaze turns more flirtatious than challenging, Chance walks over, messing up the whole vibe.

“J man, they're waiting for you in the pool house. Reg and them brought the six-footer dude. Kristy and Leslie are taking turns and it's funny as hell. You gotta go see, dude,” Chance says, pulling Jeremy up by the arm and exchanging places with him on the couch next to me.

“It'll have to wait, dude. We're in the middle of a very stimulating conversation,” Jeremy says, trying to pull Chance back up.

“Nah, man. I've had enough. I need to sit down for a minute. The room is spinning,” he says, putting his head on my shoulder.