Kendra (4 page)

I been seeing that look ever since my birthday in December. It was like, all of a sudden, I was in danger or something and I needed her protection. Her
overprotection
. Nothing ever happened to make her think this way. The only thing I did was turn fourteen.

Sometimes I think Nana looks at me like I’m her second chance to get it right. Because I know for a fact she feels like she messed up with Renée. And no matter what, she’s not about to let the same thing happen with me.

After school the next day, the stage crew gets together for the last time before dress rehearsal tomorrow. It’s not an official play practice. It’s really just for us to do finishing touches on the set and work out any problems we might have now, before the first show on Friday.

Even though it’s a lot of work, the funny thing is, no matter how tired I am from school all day, the second I come into the theater, everything changes and I have energy all of a sudden. It’s like I just had three cups of coffee or something. I love being here, smelling the wood and the paint, and hearing the hammering and the drilling. Not that there’s all that much hammering and drilling going on now. I mean, the set is just about done and it looks nice, too. And the best part about it is, I’m the one that designed it.

Well, I came up with the sketches, anyway, in my theater design class. My teacher, Mr. Melendez, told us about the showcase and how it’s a chance for us to get some experience in the theater. Our school’s big musical is in March, but mostly
only juniors and seniors get to have anything to do with it. So the school came up with this freshman/sophomore showcase, which is basically six really short plays, no singing or dancing.

All of us in our theater design class had to come up with a set that could work for the showcase, with all six settings. It was one of our class projects that we got a grade on, and Mr. Melendez said he was gonna actually use the most functional set. Everything about theater design is how
functional
it is. Yeah, it has to look good and be creative and everything, but if the actors are gonna break their neck standing on it, or if a beam or something is too low and someone trips and gets hurt, it don’t really matter how pretty it is.

So I kept my design simple. Really, I thought it was
too
simple, but Mr. Melendez thought it was good, and he picked it to be the one they used for the play. I mean, all I did was sketch this weird huge triangle kinda merry-go-round thing. Each side has a “floor” that can hold furniture and props and stuff, and there are hooks on the wall that we can hang different backdrops from.

When one side is facing the audience, the other two sides are behind the curtain, and that’s when we have to get to work making a three-sided set into six separate settings. Like, we have to change the apartment setting into the subway car setting. And the classroom gets turned into the beach. And the bus stop is the restaurant, too. So behind the scenes, we change all the background art and furniture and props, and then, when the scene is over and the stage is dark, all we have to do is spin the set and lock it into place.

For me, I’m just happy they used my design. After it was picked, my whole class, which is only eight of us, had to work as a team to get this thing done. Mr. Melendez helped a lot with the
technical stuff. He had us make sure all the dimensions and measurements were gonna work and all that, and then we had to create the blueprint on the computer with this special program architects use.

Once we had the blueprints, our class work was done. But no way was I gonna stop there. I wanted to help build the set and work on the showcase. So I joined the crew. It was hard work and it took up a lot of time, but I have to admit, it was kinda fun, too, seeing the whole thing go from just an idea in my sketch pad to a realistic-looking set.

But the best part about this is finding out that I really like being on the crew and hanging out with everybody after school. For the first time since I came to this school, I feel like I found the kinda people I like to be around. Not that Adonna’s friends aren’t fun, because they are, but they’re fun in a different way, and whenever I’m around them it’s like I have to think if I’m saying the right thing or doing the right thing. Adonna never has to think about those things, probably. She fits in with them perfect. But me, I’d rather be right here.

Today is busier than usual because we’re all under pressure to finish, but that don’t stop the guys from acting like guys. Like, I’m standing on a ladder painting the top of the set blue and Darnell comes by and holds the ladder for me, which is real nice considering I didn’t even ask him to. So I look down real careful and tell him thanks.

He smiles up at me, but before he can even say anything, this other guy on the crew, Trevor, yells out, “He’s just checking out your ass, Kendra!”

I swear, I almost fall off the ladder from what he says, like it’s something I never thought of. Even though I
am
wearing this
smock over my clothes that ties in the back and basically covers everything except my butt.

But I know Darnell’s not like that. He’s too nice a guy.

“Be quiet, Trevor!” I shout, looking right at him and trying to balance myself at the same time. “That’s your own dirty mind talking!”

When I look down at Darnell, he’s not saying anything. But he’s like that. Kinda quiet. But still, I hope he wasn’t actually doing what Trevor said he was.

Me and Mara are the only two girls on the crew, and I kinda like that. It’s, like, the first time I’m getting to spend time with guys in a while because Nana never lets me hang out with them at Bronxwood. I mean, when I was real little, it was okay to ride my scooter with boys and hang out in the community center with them. But by the time I was, like, twelve, she started watching me with boys more and more and giving me a hard time when I wanted to be around them. It got to be more of a problem than it was worth.

This is probably why I don’t know how to act around guys. Well, the cute ones, anyway.

Not that Darnell, Trevor, and Gregg, the stage manager, aren’t cute. They’re okay. But we’re just friends, all of us on the crew. It’s not like any of us is trying to hook up with each other or anything.

I put a coat of paint on the part of the set that faces the audience, and I come down from the ladder, real glad Darnell is there to keep it steady for me. When I get to the ground, Darnell says, “Don’t listen to him, Kendra. I wasn’t—”

“I know,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

He lowers his head a little bit and says, “Okay. Good.”

I hold up my hands, which are splattered with blue paint. “I’ll be right back.”

As I’m walking to the janitor’s closet, I see Mara working on adding more details to the bus stop backdrop. She painted a garbage can and more trash on the ground
near
the can than inside, and she even added some pigeons. “That looks nice,” I say, walking up behind her.

She smiles. “You think so?”

“Definitely. You’re good with that kinda thing.”

“So are you. I saw the pictures you painted on the living room backdrop.”

“Yeah, but they’re not as good as this. I wish I was a real artist like you.”

“You are,” she says. “You’re just better at seeing the big picture than the little stuff. I see all those houses you’re sketching all the time. Those are great.”

“Thanks,” I say, but I’m not so sure they’re great. I mean, they’re okay. But it don’t make me an artist, not like the real artists here.

The school I go to is called the North Bronx High School for Arts and Communications, so to get in here you have to pick a concentration and you have to get approved. Adonna wanted me to be in advertising and marketing like her, but they always have to make presentations and stuff and I’m not good at that kinda thing.

I wanted to be in the fine arts concentration so I could learn how to paint and sculpt. But Mr. Melendez was one of the teachers looking at our portfolios on the evaluation day, and when he saw that 95 percent of what I was drawing was houses and floor plans, he said he thought I should be in the design concentration
instead. He told me, “You don’t want to sit around painting bowls of fruit all day, do you?”

And I mumbled “no,” because that’s what he wanted to hear. And, really, it didn’t matter to me which program I got into, as long as I got to go to the same school as Adonna. Because if I didn’t get into this school, I would have ended up at the high school near Bronxwood and it’s way worse than this school.
And
I would have been all alone.

While I’m washing my hands in the janitor’s closet, I’m thinking about what Mara said, that I’m better at seeing the big picture. And it’s kinda true, too. In my drawings, I’m always trying to make my houses look nice and pretty. Perfect. But I never even think about the little details that could make them look more realistic. Probably because they’re never gonna be real, anyway.

When my hands are dry, I look at my watch and it’s almost six o’clock. As much as I like being here with the crew, today is one day I can’t wait to get home, because Renée’s gonna be there. I mean, I know she’s supposed to be going to dinner with some of her friends, but maybe if I’m lucky they ate early or the dinner got canceled or something. Because I need time with her, too. She’s only gonna be here one night. And that’s really not enough.

Renée don’t get home ’til almost eleven o’clock. And I kinda wanna jump up outta bed as soon as I hear the door open, but I don’t want her to know I was waiting up for her. At the same time, I don’t want her to just go to sleep right away and not know I’m still awake.

So I wait about two minutes. Then I push aside the book I’m reading, which is really kinda nasty, put my slippers on, and go down the hall.

Renée’s in the living room taking off her shoes when I get out there. Even though the hall light is on, the living room is still dark. Before I can say anything, she looks over and sees me, and she jumps a little. “Babe, oh, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I was just—”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I was reading a book, um, for English.”

That gets a smile outta her. “Good.” She kicks her shoes aside and starts unbuttoning her blouse. Then she sighs. “Oh, I
am so exhausted. Today was way too long.” She takes off her blouse and throws it over the chair. “I had to drive in from Boston, then go to City for the second round of interviews and a teaching demonstration. The whole thing was grueling.”

“Where’d you go after that?”

“Nowhere special,” she says. “When I was finally done at City, I met up with some Princeton girls and we all went out to dinner at this Italian place on the Upper West Side. Then we ended up at some club in the meat-packing district.” She shakes her head. “It was wall-to-wall people. You know, the after-work crowd. The men were working the most tired pickup lines I’ve ever heard. They were pitiful!” She’s smiling while she talks, so it probably wasn’t all that bad. It sounds a lot better than sitting at home with Nana, which is what I did after play practice, while waiting for Renée to get home.

Renée takes off her pants and throws them on the chair with her blouse. “I’m standing at the bar with my friend Jennifer, and this guy comes up and tells her that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and how he just
has
to know her name. Then when Jennifer tells him she has a boyfriend, he turns to me, without missing a beat, and gives me the exact same line of bullshit.” She laughs. “I was standing right there the whole time. He didn’t think I heard him the first time?”

I laugh, too. “Was he at least cute?”

She flashes me an
oh, please
look. “There were a few decent guys, but as soon as they walked into the club, all the desperate girls would practically pounce on them. As a sociologist, I have to tell you, the whole club scene is fascinating. It’s like watching the mating rituals on an alien planet, trying to make sense of everything.”

Renée opens her little suitcase and takes out a T-shirt. I stand there and watch her take off her bra and let it fall to the floor, then pull the T-shirt on over her head. Every time I see her change I notice the same thing, that her body is almost, like, the total opposite of mine. She’s all curvy and sexy and everything. Me, I can only hope to maybe grow into a body like that one day. But it’s not looking good for me. Not any time soon, anyway.

As Renée lays out the sheet and blanket that’s been waiting for her on the couch, I lean against the wall, not really knowing what to say to keep her talking. I do know I wanna sit down on the couch with her and talk for a while, but I don’t wanna keep her up too long when she just said how tired she is.

The real truth is, I wanna tell her that I wasn’t really reading anything for school, that I waited up just to talk to her. But I don’t wanna come off sounding all needy. I just wanna say
something
. I mean, it’s like I’m looking at the person I been waiting for my whole life. And here she is, right in front of me, and I don’t even know how to get to her.

“Do you know where you’re gonna work yet?” I ask, slowly going over to where she’s sitting on the couch.

“Not yet,” she says, moving over to make room for me next to her, “but I think City College will make me an offer real soon. They were talking to me as if I were already part of their faculty. I’ll probably get an offer from Boston, too, but I think I’d prefer City. I love it here in New York, and a lot of my friends from college and grad school live here. And Gerard lives in Jersey, not that a woman should choose a job because of a man—don’t ever do that, Babe—but it would be great teaching and doing research here in the city, and getting to spend time with Gerard. Because long-distance relationships never work.”

I swallow hard.

Renée goes on. “Gerard and I have already spent too much time apart with me studying and writing all the time. For once, I actually have time for the man.”

I met Gerard a few times, and he was there at the graduation on Sunday, but all I know about him is he’s a New Jersey cop and he’s even cuter than all of Renée’s other boyfriends, who were pretty cute, too. He’s tall, dark, and muscular, with a real deep voice and everything. Other than that, I don’t know a thing about him.

“Well,” I say, “I hope you get the job at City.”

“I will.”

Something tells me not to get too excited for her because nothing is official yet. It feels weird, too, because whatever decision she makes is gonna change my life, too. If she ends up teaching in Boston, I’m gonna have to move and change schools and friends and everything. But if she chooses City College, maybe she can stay home for a while, at least ’til she saves up enough money to get us our own apartment.

“There are so many great things about being in the city again,” she says, and I’m not really sure if she’s talking to me or just thinking out loud. “Of course, there are the museums and theaters, but the restaurants and clubs—I missed all of that, by doing this whole school thing for so long. I just want to have some fun for a while, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” I say, swallowing again.

I don’t know why, but I’m kinda surprised by what she’s saying. I mean, Renée is young and I can understand that she wants to have fun, but I don’t need her to be going to clubs and everything. I need her to be my mother now.

Me and Renée stay up and talk for a little while longer, ’til she starts yawning and I decide to let her get some sleep. Especially after she tells me she’s gonna leave in the morning to drive down to Maryland. Then, before I go, she says she’s not even sure if she’s coming back here after Maryland or going straight back to Princeton, which she still calls “home.”

And to me, it’s sad. It’s like she just got here and she’s already leaving. So fast. I don’t know why, but I thought once she graduated, she would be ready to kinda stay in one place. I mean, at least for more than one day.