“No, we won’t. Man down.” She wiped her eyes. “Man the hell down.”
All I could think to say was, “Don’t cuss. Something will work out, but I can’t allow you to cuss.”
“Cussin’ is the least of our problems.” And she walked out my room.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and placed my head in my hands.
God must hate me.
3
If this isn’t love, tell me what it is…
—JENNIFER HUDSON, “IF THIS ISN’T LOVE”
I called Ameen a thousand times before I left for school that morning, and not once did he answer. Of course I was pissed, and since I had no one to take my anger out on, I barked at Asha and Courtney. “For once,” I snapped as they filed in my car on our way to school, “can you two be on time?” I looked up at Courtney, who had a hot-pink boa wrapped around his neck with the ends running down his white ruffle shirt. His red patent leather pants were Jonas Brothers tight, and all I could do was shake my head. He looked like a big ball of red grease. “And don’t slam my door!” I said as Courtney climbed in the backseat and Asha, who wore Aeropostale jeans, a fitted purple tee, and matching accessories, sat in the front.
“Oh, hell, nawl.” Courtney threw the ends of his boa to the back of his shoulders. “Not this morning. Trust me; you don’t want it over here.” He wagged his finger. “My mother told me off because I didn’t clean my room. My daddy caught an attitude because he said I was holding my wrist limp for too long, as if he hasn’t gotten the point yet. And my dog shitted on my floor, so don’t”—he popped his lips—“even go there.”
“Whatever,” I said as I pulled off and we headed down the street.
Asha cut her eyes at me and proceeded to slide in a CD Courtney handed her, and within an instant Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” filled the car. If it wasn’t for the truck behind me I would’ve come to a screeching halt. “What is this?!” I screamed as I turned off the CD.
“What is your problem?” Asha asked.
“Look, maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” Courtney said, “but today ain’t the day. I’m PMSing like crazy and I don’t have time for your foolishness. Now if you are mad at Ameen we can discuss this. Otherwise cut my damn CD back on, because if I don’t hear me some Aretha this morning it’s gon’ be a situation.”
“Know what,” I said, turning the CD back on, “I’m not gon’ even argue with you this morning.”
“Thank you for the consideration,” Courtney said as the music came through the speakers and he laid his head back against the back headrest. “You don’t ever mess with a black man and his music,” he said as he closed his eyes.
After a few minutes of driving to school, Asha popped the gum she was chewing and said, “You may as well just tell us what happened, otherwise you gon’ be buggin’ all day.”
“I don’t feel like talking about it.” I paused and then quickly decided that I needed somebody to confide in. “Me and Ameen had an argument yesterday,” I confessed.
“Why?” Courtney asked.
“Because…remember Malachi from elementary school?”
“Yeah,” Asha said.
“Well, he moved back here to Jersey, and when me and Ameen were together yesterday I saw Malachi. Ameen got mad because I hugged Malachi and said that I was showing off. He left me in the middle of the street, the car was running, I swear I was soooooo humiliated.” I intentionally left out being mushed against the window.
“Have you talked to him since then?” Asha asked.
“No,” I said somberly. “I called him but he won’t call me back. And you know…like I’m just so tired of the changes.”
“You said once before that you were thinking about taking a break. Why don’t you take a break now?”
I could’ve slapped Asha; I hated it when she threw things up in my face. “’Cause I wanna take a break when I wanna take a break, which is not now. Ameen is a good guy—”
“Who left you in the middle of the street—”
“He just has a jealous streak.”
“You always have an excuse for him.”
“I don’t have to make up excuses for him. And I don’t have to argue with you over my man.”
“I didn’t know it was an argument,” Asha snapped. “All I’m saying is that if he has more jealous fits than anything else, then something is not right.”
I sucked my teeth. “When you get a steady man you give me advice.”
“And when you get a man,” she snapped, “you let me know.”
“Can you two retreat to your corners?” Courtney tapped his finger on the back window as I pulled into the school’s parking lot. “And look at Jesus and His disciple.”
Asha and I turned and looked out the passenger side window at two dudes parking their motorcycles next to us. When they took their helmets off, I realized that one of them was Malachi. He had on a pair of black Tims, slightly baggy True Religion jeans, a white tee with a skull in the center, and a black leather jacket. He held his helmet in his hand, leaned against his bike, and stared at me.
“Why are you blushing?” Asha tapped me on the shoulder.
“Please, don’t even play me like that.” I rolled my eyes, “I am not blushing, that’s only Malachi.”
“Daaaaannnng,” Courtney said, “two snaps up and a fruit loop…would you look at li’l daddy here.”
“And who is that other hottie?” Asha asked.
“I don’t know.” I hunched my shoulders, looking at the guy standing beside Malachi. I had to admit even in the midst of being pissed that the guy was a cutie: deep chocolate skin, spinning waves, almond-shaped eyes, and a goatee. “He is cute, though.”
“I called him first,” Asha said. “Now introduce me.”
“Didn’t I just say I didn’t know him?”
“Go find out who he is from Malachi,” she said to me, and then turned to Courtney. “How does my breath smell?” She blew air into his face.
“Oh, my.” He placed his hand over his nose and fell back against the seat. “I’ve been shot with dog poo.”
Asha playfully punched Courtney on the arm. “This is serious and you play too much.”
Courtney laughed. “It smells ai’ight, but your lips need a li’l gloss.” Courtney handed her his clear MAC gloss. “And how do I look, I look okay?” he asked.
“And who gon’ be checking you out?” I had to ask.
“I just want to be in the atmosphere.” Courtney took his pocket mirror from his pageboy bag, flipped it open, and batted his lashes at his reflection.
“You know what,” I said, “I’m cold on this.” I got out the car and I could hear Asha whispering, “Introduce me.” I closed the door behind me, walked past Malachi and his mysterious friend, without speaking. Stank, I know, but so what? I was pissed and when my love life isn’t right the whole world shuts down.
Once I walked through the doors the bell rang, and I headed to homeroom class. If only I could have gotten the memory of my fight with Ameen and the aching feeling to have left my stomach I would have been cool.
By the time the bell rang again, I’d slyly texted Ameen a thousand times but not once did