Game On (5 page)

“Hey, Xavier,” said Dexter. “Have you applied to any colleges yet?”

“How did we go from your corny comedy routine, to you wanting to know about college enrollment?” asked Linus.

Dexter said to him, “Did I hurt your itty-bitty feelings, homeboy? Knowing that your future job will be pretty simple? All you gonna have to do is stand at the end of a grocery store counter and ask the customers if they want paper or plastic.”

Everybody knew that Linus was incredibly sensitive about the fact that he wasn't going to graduate with the class because of his lack of credits. And sensing that things were about to get out of hand, Xavier jumped in.

“You know, Dex, after all that drama that happened to me in my junior year, it kind of threw me. I stopped wanting to go to college—I didn't know if I was gonna live to attend. So I didn't fill out any applications in my junior year. Sat on my hands until two months ago. That's when my father convinced me to fill out a college application—ain't like I don't have the grades.” Xavier stared down at the table, and then back up to Dexter. “I filled out an application to go to Michigan State. Don't know what I'll be majoring in. But I have to make it out of my senior year alive, first.”

Linus sarcastically popped his lips.

Dexter ignored him and said to Xavier, “I think I'm gonna go to junior college. Find out what I want to do.”

Xavier might've been engaged in the conversation but he couldn't help notice the chick Bangs was all up in some cute little female's grill, aggressively pointing her finger. The noise in the lunchroom was so loud that, somehow, the fiery confrontation had managed to fly under the radar.

Xavier had never seen this girl before. The sweet piece looked to be mixed, with an exotic complexion, gorgeous shoulder-length hair, nice juicy lips—every curve in the right place. Xavier had to laugh because the girl was so short that she reminded him of a cute dwarf.

“You missed it, Flip,” Dexter explained. “Chase looked like he was about to send Xavier packin'. Was all up in his grill, talking about X wasn't gonna receive any special privileges for being a 4.0 student.”

“Really,” said Flip.

Dexter told Xavier, “Dude, when I got my schedule this morning and saw that I had Chase for English, partna, I almost went number two in my pants.”

The voices were becoming aggressively rowdy at that back table. When Xavier returned his gaze in the direction of the SNLGs, Bangs had disrespectfully knocked the girl's book bag to the floor and was pushing the chick toward her homegirls. Xavier knew what that meant. It was about to get real for baby girl without some help. The girl wouldn't stand a chance if the entire SNLG crew got down on her head.

“Chase's class is going to be hard, but—”

Xavier hopped up and headed in the direction of the ruckus without saying a word.

“X, where are you headed?” Dexter tried to ask.

Bangs swung on the girl and would've solidly connected, if it wasn't for Xavier pulling her out of harm's way.

Standing there, bug-eyed with surprise, Bangs aggressively asked, “Why you all up in my Kool-Aid, Xavier?”

Xavier might've smiled at her recognition of him, but it was no surprise. He was the man up in this piece and every student was intensely aware.

“I'ma need you to cut baby girl some slack,” Xavier said politely, but the look on his face told her that it was more of an order.

“I know who you are, Xavier—the school's savior,” Bangs said, like she was trying to be funny. “I'm Bangs, by the way. Trust me, we don't want any beef with you, boss.”

It took a minute for the rest of the students in the cafeteria to peep what was taking shape, and when they recognized Xavier's involvement, the immediate area quickly evacuated.

The rest of the SNLGs rushed to their leader's back. Bangs knew what time it was, though. She pointed to her crew as if to tell them to fall back. Bangs might've been a notorious hothead, but she wasn't stupid. Stepping to a big dog like Xavier wouldn't be a good look—it would be a damn near fatal decision. So she tried to smile it off and play up for the audience.

The Smurfette looked up at Xavier and managed a smile, as if to say, “Thank you.”

Xavier asked Bangs, “What'd she do?”

“Oh, Supermodel looked at us the wrong way.”

Xavier already knew what it was about. Jealousy. The little Smurfette chick did have it going on, though.

Dexter walked up. “Y'all real tough all right. Tryna put the smash on itty-bitty over here for staring?”

Offended, one of the girls in the clique yelled, “We SNLGs fo' life, fool!” at Dexter.

Some little dark-skinned chick with cornrows asked Dexter in a tough voice, “Who is you?”

It didn't take Dexter's smart mouth too long to respond. He told Cornrows, “If you spent more time in English class instead of running with these losers, you would know ‘who is you' is grammatically incorrect. Watch my lips and say it with me: ‘who are you?' ”

Dexter's diss left Cornrows feeling some kind of way. She was about to go off.

Bangs said to her girl, “Mouse, chill out.” She looked back to Xavier. “All right, boss. You got this.” She nodded in the direction of the south door. Her girls understood what that meant and began filing in that direction.

“Baby girl,” Xavier said to Bangs. “I can't tell you how to do you. But if you gonna be a gangsta, don't be a bully, you feel me?”

She smiled and said, “We don't want any beef with the great Xavier.” Bangs gave Xavier a halfway slick look before following her gang.

Mouse was the last one. Before she started toward them, the thugged-out chick turned around to face the girl. Xavier and Dexter looked on as Mouse made an execution sign at the girl by dragging a hand slowly across her throat.

“You see that?” Dexter asked Xavier, as Mouse finally followed the rest of her girls.

“Yo, girls are getting worse than the dudes,” said Xavier. He looked down at the young girl.

The tension in the cafeteria seemed to ease up a bit with students going about their business.

“What's your name, little mama?” Xavier asked her.

“Dakota . . . Dakota Taylor,” she timidly answered.

The girl had a soft-spoken demeanor about her. She was a little cutie too.

Fresh meat,
Xavier thought. The moment she'd opened her mouth he already knew the scoop. Dakota was a freshman.

Dexter bent down and retrieved her book bag. “I guess this belongs to you,” he said, handing it over. “By the way, my name is Dexter.”

“Hi, Dexter,” Dakota said, almost with childlike innocence.

“And just in case you didn't hear, my name is Xavier Hunter.”

“Nice to meet you, Xavier Hunter. I can't thank you enough for coming to my rescue.”

“It was no big deal,” he said. Xavier already knew the answer but still had to ask, “Well, Dakota ‘Lil' Mama' Taylor, is this your first year at Coleman?”

Her smile was beautiful—dimples, the whole shebang. “ ‘Lil' Mama'? I like that.” She fumbled around with the strap on her book bag. “Yes, I am a freshman. Is it that obvious?”

Dexter suggested to her, “You might wanna stay away from the short yellow bus crew.” He pointed in the direction where the SNLGs had made their exit. “Looks like they're thirsty to make a rep, so watch who you stare at around here.”

Dakota rolled her shoulders. “I just glanced at them,” she admitted.

“It seemed to be enough to set them off,” Dexter explained. He turned to Xavier. “Do you realize Flip just sat there at the table like nothing was happening?”

Yep. Xavier had noticed it. But he didn't want to overreact. Besides, he didn't need anybody's help handling a bunch of girls. All the same, though, he was gonna have to keep an eye on Linus.

Xavier said to Dexter, “You worry too much. Flip's straight, man, you feel me?”

Dexter looked at Xavier like he wanted to say, “Dude, wake up,” but thought better of it. He shook his head and walked away.

“So, Xavier,” Dakota said, showing off those fantastic dimples. “What did Bangs mean when she mentioned you were the school's savior?”

“I don't know, the girl's probably on something,” Xavier joked.

Dakota stared dreamily up into Xavier's eyes. “You have a nice sense of humor, Xavier,” she complimented.

“Thank you,” Xavier said. “If you don't mind me asking, what's your ethnicity?”

Dakota smiled. “My mother is black and my father is Native American.”

“That explains your beautiful skin tone.” Xavier touched her hair. “Ain't no tracks in that wig.”

Dakota laughed. This conversation was fun for her and she was eating it up.

“So is that North or South Dakota?” Xavier asked, smirking.

Dakota giggled. “I see you have jokes.”

“I know I'm an idiot when it comes to American native custom. But doesn't every American native name mean something?”

“Xavier, are you trying to ask me if my name means something?”

“I guess I am, Lil' Mama.”

Dakota smiled, showing off her deep dimples. “My name means ‘friends to my enemy.' ”

Xavier laughed. “Is that right? I guess whoever named you didn't have little ghetto chicks like Bangs and her SNLG clowns in mind. You're definitely not on their Christmas card list.”

“I still don't know how I offended them. It was just a glance in their direction.”

“In this school, a glance is enough to get your eyebrows kicked in. Listen, Lil' Mama, I gotta bounce. But check this out: I'm gonna need you to please be careful up in this piece.” He looked around the cafeteria. “I don't mean to scare you, but this school can be dangerous. So please watch where you're stepping, you feel me?”

“I'll make sure to take your advice to heart.” Dakota smiled flirtatiously. “I'm sure if I get in trouble again, my big strong knight will come and save me.”

Xavier knew who she was talking about but he played it off. “Dakota, I'm gonna need you to take those little chicks seriously. I've been around their kind before. They just threatened you and they're not playing.”

Xavier went to step away.

But not before Dakota could say, “Bye, my big strong knight.”

What had he done? Nothing flared his nostrils more than the weak pretending to be strong by pushing around those they thought were weaker to boost their ego, gain self-respect, all while creating a reputation for themselves. Dakota, whether she accepted it or not, was in Bangs's crosshairs. The chick was so nonchalant about it. She seemed like a nice enough girl—a little naïve, but didn't deserve the beef she'd just stepped into. He couldn't just leave her for the sharks. Xavier had every intention of watching Dakota's back, but even he didn't possess the kinds of superpowers that would allow him to be everywhere at once. Plus, he still had to walk around the building with eyes in the back of his dome, never knowing which cracks of the school Slick Eddie's roaches would scurry from and try to snatch his life.

This was a trip. Xavier could've saved himself the heartache of trying to make paper with Zulu back in the day by hiring himself out as a bodyguard to the nerd population at Coleman. Homeboy would've been flexing with a legitimate fortune by now.

But outside of all the drama that seemed to be hugging him as tightly as Dexter's skinny pants, Xavier was burdened by curiosity about what was up with his man Linus Flip. Homeboy wasn't right in the melon. Something was up. Xavier couldn't address it right now, though. Chase was heavy on his mind. The cat would be the only teacher who stood in the way of Xavier graduating with a perfect GPA. He hadn't decided on a college major yet. He liked to write—maybe journalism, Xavier didn't know. With all the dangerous drama he'd been through, he was just happy to still be alive and have an opportunity to graduate high school to go on to receive a higher education.

5

SAMANTHA

 

S
amantha was chilling with her two girlfriends, grabbing a little bite to eat in the food court at Somerset Collection. It was an upscale, luxury shopping mall on Big Beaver Road, located in a very pristine area in Troy, Michigan.

The three had made up their minds to attend the school icebreaker held at Northland Roller Rink on West 8 Mile in Detroit. The set was due to jump off in two weeks on September nineteenth, and Coleman High students were hyped.

And of course they all needed new outfits. The only thing was that Tracy and Jennifer were flat broke as usual. But Samantha had saved the day by graciously allowing her girls to sponge off her as she effortlessly ripped up the stores, while her dad's Black Card absorbed all of the damages. Shopping bags were sitting on the floor and tucked in every available space inside the booth.

“Gurl,” Tracy McIntyre said to Samantha, as the three sat eating Thai food, “thank you for tightening a sistah up with a trip to her favorite spot, bebe. Love the two nice, sexy outfits you treated me to.”

Jennifer Haywood also joined in by raising her Styrofoam cup of soda. “Hear, hear, I second that. My mother doesn't get paid until Friday after next, so I would've been the only chica there not flexing any new gear at the skating rink next Friday. I appreciate the outfits from Forever 21.” She held up her shopping bag. Jennifer looked like she just wanted to hop across the table and hug Samantha to show appreciation. But instead she said, “Thank you, girl!”

Samantha smiled. “We're like the Three Musketeers—all for one and one for all remember? Plus when we turn up together we have to have our game tight.”

Tracy cracked up. “Listen to Ms. Fancy-pants trying to sound gangsta—‘turn up—game tight?' ” she joked.

“Sounds like bad boy Xavier's influence all right,” Jennifer cosigned.

Tracy said to Jennifer, “Gurl, next thing you know she'll start referring to us as ‘homeboy' and ending her sentences with ‘you feel me?' ”

Samantha laughed. “Tracy, you're talking out of the side of your neck. Don't get cute with me. Remember, I still have every one of those receipts for your outfits, heffa.”

“No, you didn't threaten to take back my bebe, boo-boo. Gurl, me and you will be rolling around up in here, pulling each other's tracks out if you tried to take my bags from me.”

Jennifer was laughing so hard she burped. “Oops. Excuse me,” she said, slightly embarrassed, with a hand up to her mouth.

Samantha told Tracy, “That's a fight you would lose.” She turned her head sideways to show off her flawless mane. “See, I'm all naturaaal. Unlike you, Choo-Choo Charlie, with all those train tracks in your head.”

Tracy bragged, “That's all right. I might have train tracks in my head”—she jumped up from her seat and started twerking while looking back at her booty going wild—“but I gots me a caboose that brings all the boys to the yard.”

Jennifer was laughing to disguise her embarrassment at the attention Tracy was gaining. “We can't take her anywhere,” she said to Samantha. She then looked up at Tracy. “Will you sit your hot butt down before you end up with a million hits on YouTube.”

Samantha was giggling. “Girl, you're crazy. I don't know about it bringing boys to the yard, but if you don't put that thing away, somebody is liable to get hurt.”

Tracy sat back down, laughing. “You two are haters. Just plain haters.”

“Tracy, nobody is hating on you,” said Jennifer. “Trust me, my sistah, I have more valuable things to do with my time.”

Tracy asked, “Like what? Chase down Derek King?”

Samantha chuckled. She said to Tracy, “No, you didn't go there!”

Jennifer popped her lips and rolled her eyes at Tracy. “Girl, please. Derek King is yesterday's news. But some other people—I won't mention Tracy McIntyre's name—still sniffing like a bloodhound behind Michael Brenner after he sweet-talked her out of seventy bucks and bought that girl Jewel he shares lockers with some Nike sneakers.”

Samantha was cracking up. “Tracy, no, she didn't put your business out there in the street.”

“I don't like that boy no more,” Tracy protested heatedly. “Besides, he told me that was his godsister.”

Jennifer said, “I could tell by the way Michael was making out with her down in the south lobby the other day.” She sipped a little of her soda. “But I ain't even mad at him. You let him get away with it—on the third floor all hugged up with him yesterday.”

“Since you're putting me on blast,” Tracy answered back, “Mr. Yesterday's News is all around the school, kissing and telling. Like I want to know about how big your granny panties were the night y'all smashed.”

Samantha was laughing so hard that tears formed in her eyes.

Jennifer's light skin turned crimson from embarrassment. “Uh-uh—Derek is a stone-cold liar. I didn't give him
none
.”

“Okay, let's recap,” Samantha said to her friends, wiping away the water. She pointed to Tracy. “You got swindled out of seventy bucks and now some chick is probably smiling anytime she sees you around the school.” She smiled at Jennifer. “And you, my dear—granny panties, I'm not trying to go there with you. You guys are pathetic.”

Tracy and Jennifer gave each other puzzled looks. And then they stared back at Samantha.

Tracy was the first to respond. “Gurl, you got yo' nerves.”

Jennifer picked up where Tracy left off. “Got a rich, fine ball-playing brotha chasing you around town like a little puppy dog, but all you can think about is Xavier.”

“ ‘Fine' ain't the word, Jen,” Tracy weighed in. “That dude is a muscle-bound god wearing baseball cleats. And you just told us he copped a phat crib off the lake, and pushing a Phantom—what are you waiting on? I hope it ain't Xavier Hunter?”

Tracy's question dried up any trace of a smile on Samantha's face.

Samantha said, “Tracy, now you're starting to sound like my dad.”

“That's right. Your old man is holding bank. That's the reason you're not impressed by Desmond's ballin' lifestyle, huh, Miss Beverly Hills,” Tracy said, smirking sarcastically.

Samantha corrected, “FYI, I live in Birmingham, Michigan.”

“Beverly Hills, Birmingham, Greenfield Village, Ellis Island—”

Samantha smiled and said, “You do realize the last two you mentioned aren't affluent cities, right?”

“My point is do you understand what you have in Sean is a dream to girls like me and Jennifer?” Tracy explained, sounding a little bit more like she was jealous.

Samantha made it clear. “Tracy, I have my own dreams, like dancing—I wanna make my own mark in this world with my talent. I don't need Sean Desmond or his money to become a successful woman.”

“I'm just saying, Sam, any other girl would love to flex in that car, get invited to all the slamming parties that those athletes be throwing in those huge mansions,” Tracy argued.

Seeing that their
happy
conversation was headed in a different direction, Jennifer said to Tracy, “Why don't you leave Sam alone?”

“Jen, I'm just saying that she's gonna mess around and miss out on a good thing by still being hung up on that good-for-nothing thug rat Xavier,” said Tracy.

“Jen, sweetie, thank you, but I don't need your help,” said Samantha, becoming a little heated. She looked at Tracy. “Let me straighten you out: I'm not thirsty for a man like you. Last but not least, Miss Thang, Xavier has more charm, personality, swag, and intelligence than anything you've ever dated.”

“Okay,” said Jennifer, with a silly look on her face. She said to Samantha, “Guess you don't need my help.”

“Don't get mad at me, boo-boo,” Tracy said, trying to play it down with a smile. “I'm just keeping it one hundred. And for somebody who claims to be over her ex, you sure don't sound like it.”

Jennifer tried to squash it. “Guys? What are we doing? Remember we're the Three Musketeers—all for one and one for all.”

“No, Jen, we're still family, but I'm just trying to look out,” Tracy reassured her. “Sam, did you know that London Curry is going around sneak dissin' you? Tellin' suckas that you're jealous of her because she's the new
it
girl in Xavier's life.”

“Seriously, Tracy, do you think I care about the girl's insecurities?” asked Samantha. “If she thinks that she has to step on me to improve her chances with him, then God bless her.”

“You mean you're not gonna step to her?” Tracy asked.

“Why should I? She's Dumpster diving for my leftovers.”

Jennifer looked at Samantha. “Good point.”

Tracy smacked her lips and rolled her eyes at Jennifer.

Jennifer said, changing the subject, “I can't wait until the icebreaker. It's going to be off the chain at the Northland Skating Rink with cute ballers all over the place.”

As usual, Tracy jumped in with her negativity. “ ‘Ballers'? Those immature little high school boys don't have no money. Many of them will stand on a chair, put a noose around their necks, and jump off if you asked them for five dollars.”

Jennifer had grown weary of Tracy's tired tirade. She held up a bebe shopping bag—“Just like you, and me, sponging off Sam, huh. We're just as flat busted as the rest of the students. I'm just saying: When you live in a glass house, don't start shooting at it, sweetie.”

Samantha laughed and high-fived Jennifer.

“Forget you, Jen,” said a bitter Tracy.

Samantha explained, “This is our senior year, ladies, and we're going to have the best time ever.” She smiled at Tracy's direction. “If Miss Sour Puss over there can get her behind off her shoulders, she'd enjoy it with us.”

Tracy said, “I just don't want you to make a mistake and let a good guy get away.”

Samantha was up on her girl's game. “Girl, bye—Tracy, you know this is not about me. This is about you wanting to use me as a doorway to get into Sean's circle, so you can”—Samantha used finger quotes—“find a baller and get chauffeured around in his expensive car.”

“So what's wrong with that?” she asked.

“For you . . . nothing,” Samantha said. “Just don't make this all about me, you social climber.”

“That was really low, Samantha,” Tracy said, knowing that her card had been pulled.

This time Jennifer gave Samantha a high five.

Samantha grabbed her drink off the table and raised it in the air, inviting her girls to do the same.

She said, “This is for our last year of high school, ladies. We are going to have a fabulous time. The icebreaker at Northland Skating Rink will be the beginning of a great school year.”

Jennifer added, “We're the Three Musketeers—all for one.”

Samantha and Tracy smiled at each other and finished the other half of the credo in unison, “And one for all.”