Kendra (8 page)

All through the play the next night, I can feel Darnell watching me. We’re backstage working together and everything is getting done, but as soon as we get a second to breathe, there he is looking at me again.

At the end of the showcase, after we take our bows and we’re finished cleaning up, he comes up behind me and says, “Kendra, I, um…”

“Yeah?” I smile a little, trying to let him know it’s okay to say what’s on his mind.

He looks me in the eye, then looks down. Then he tries again to look me in the eye. “I, I just wanna say, um, you’re gonna be here tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Last show. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he walks away.

I stand there for a second, now knowing that he wanted to ask me out. Definitely. And I’m thinking how hard it must be for guys to always have to do the asking. I mean, look at Adonna. She been checking out Nashawn for months now, and he
still hasn’t worked up the courage to ask her out. Or even talk to her.

Mara comes over to tell me bye, but I don’t want her to leave too fast.

“Come meet my grandmother and her, um, friend,” I say to her, thinking it can’t hurt for Nana to meet Mara and see that I’m hanging out with a nice girl when I’m at play practice.

Nana and Clyde are still in the theater, sitting down in their seats and talking like they don’t even notice that hardly anybody is still there. Yesterday, when she came to pick me up from Adonna’s apartment around eleven o’clock, she never said where she was all that time. And I never asked. Because I already knew.

Nana and Clyde get up from their seats when they see me and Mara coming over to them. After I introduce them to Mara, Clyde goes on and on about what a great job we did on the set. “What I mean is, it looked professional,” he says, and the way he talks is like every word is important or something. “That’s what we kept saying to each other, that it looked like something professionals did. Right, Valerie?”

“It was beautiful,” she says like she really means it.

“Thanks,” I say. “Now you see why it took us so long.”

She nods and there’s even a little smile on her face. It’s like she’s being extra nice since she’s with Clyde.

“I was telling your grandmother that we should go out to dinner,” Clyde says. “And why don’t you come with us, Mara?”

Me and Mara look at each other and I nod. “Yeah, please, can you?”

Mara whips out her cell phone. “Let me call my mom, but I’m sure she’ll say okay.”

An hour later we’re all at IHOP and we’re actually having a good time.

“Kendra, Mara,” Clyde says, turning his attention away from Nana for a second. “You know, you girls could probably go to college for that—what do you call it?”

“Set design,” Mara says. “But it was Kendra’s design. Mine was rejected.” She makes a funny sad face and we all laugh.

“No, but you girls should really think about becoming real set designers, like on Broadway and off-Broadway, because I bet them cats make some decent cash, you know?”

Cats?

“My mom wants me to become a teacher,” Mara says, “because that’s what I wanted to be when I was little, and I still think I’d like it, I guess.”

Nana smiles. “When Kendra was little, all she ever talked about was one thing,” she says. “She used to walk around talking about, ‘When I grow up, I’m going to be a college.’ Not a college student or a college professor. No, she wanted to be a college.” She laughs, and even her laugh is nicer when Clyde’s around. “It was so cute.”

“That don’t make any sense,” I say.

“Well, that’s what you wanted to be.”

Mara laughs, too. “Weird, Kendra.”

The waitress comes over to pour coffee, and after Clyde gets his cup filled, Nana nods at the waitress and gets hers filled, too, and she starts adding cream and sugar like she’s really somebody that drinks coffee, which she’s not.

Mara leans over and whispers to me, “Come with me to the bathroom.”

I nod, and as we get up I see Clyde slip his arm around the
back of Nana’s chair. I think Mara notices it, too, because we look at each other for a second but don’t say anything.

When we get into the bathroom there’s only one stall, so Mara goes first, and while she’s peeing she asks, “So, is Clyde your grandmother’s
boyfriend
?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t even wanna think about her with a boyfriend. I mean, I don’t even have a boyfriend yet.”

Mara laughs. “Me, neither. But I think she likes him. And he’s nice.”

“Yeah,” I say. “He is.”

She flushes the toilet and comes out, and I go in. I’m still kinda embarrassed that I wanted to be a college, whatever that means, but I’m trying not to think about it. Not now.

After we leave IHOP, we drop Mara off at home and make sure she gets into the building safe. Then when we get to Bronxwood, Nana asks Clyde if he wants to come upstairs for another cup of coffee. And, of course, he says yes and parks his car.

Even though this is supposedly Clyde’s first time to our apartment, when the elevator reaches our floor, he gets out and already seems to know which way to walk. And then when we’re inside and Nana hangs up his jacket, he asks to use the bathroom, and she don’t have to tell him where it is.

I’m just watching everything, collecting the evidence. Then I grab the cordless phone off the charger and I’m about to go to my room to call Adonna with all the latest info, not just about Nana and Clyde but about Darnell, too, but the doorbell rings and I have to turn back around to answer the door.

It’s Kenny standing there with his envelope.

“How was the play tonight?” he asks, hugging me.

“Good,” I say. “Come in.”

He walks back into the kitchen with me and, while I put the phone back on the base, I see Kenny hand Nana the envelope.

“Thank you,” she tells him, but she don’t smile or anything.

Sometimes I wish she would because I know it would make Kenny feel a whole lot better about himself, to know he’s kinda helping us out, even a little bit. I mean, right now all I feel is bad for him because he had to borrow money yesterday and now he’s trying to act like he can help take care of me when he can’t. And at the same time, I really love him for trying. I just wish Nana would show him some love, too.

I walk him out to the elevator.

“When is Renée coming back?” he asks.

I tell him tomorrow, and me and him kinda smile at each other for a while. Then the elevator comes and Kenny gives me another hug. “Good night, Babe.”

“Good night.”

He gets in the elevator but holds the door open ’til he sees me get back down the hall to my apartment and open the door. Then I wave to him and go inside. I’m kinda worried about him, with the way he still waits for Renée all the time. He’s only setting himself up for a big letdown.

Nana and Clyde are still in the kitchen, sitting at the table having coffee and danish. I go in and grab the cordless again, but instead of dialing Adonna, I call Renée’s cell phone.

But she don’t answer. It goes straight to voice mail. So I leave a message, reminding her when the play starts tomorrow, and telling her that it’s the last show. Then I tell Nana and Clyde good night and go to my room so they can spend some time together without me hanging around.

I close the door loud enough so they know they have privacy, and I get undressed in my room. I’m kinda feeling good about everything, the play, hanging out with Mara, even Nana and Clyde. I mean, it’s good that she likes him. And soon she won’t have to worry about having men in the apartment around me because me and Renée will have our own place. Well, as soon as she saves up the money.

It’s not ’til about a half hour later, when I’m already in bed with the light off, that I figure it out. And I don’t feel embarrassed anymore because now it makes sense.

When I was little, I wanted to be a college because that’s where Renée was all the time.

Sunday. The last show. Backstage, the guys are back to cracking jokes and trying to make me laugh in between scene changes. But I’m too busy waiting for Renée to get there and thinking about the fact that she’s still not.

I know I must look like I’m crazy or something, but I really can’t help it. Every five minutes I’m checking the audience, peeking out from this spot on the side of the stage and scanning the whole theater, row by row, looking for her face. It’s dark, but still, if she was there, I know I would see her.

Then, during the intermission, I’m doing the same thing, like maybe she’s there but I didn’t see her before. A lot of people are walking around now and it’s hard to see everyone. Or maybe she went to the bathroom or she’s in the hallway talking on her cell phone or something.

By the time intermission is over, I have to face it. She’s not there.

I’m not sure how, but I keep working, just trying to get
through the rest of the showcase. But I can’t wait for it to be over now. It’s like I’m not even into it anymore.

Then, during the second-to-last play, we’re behind the curtain, arranging the furniture and laying out the props for the last play. And, as usual, we’re supposed to be doing our jobs real quiet so the audience don’t hear us, but then Gregg bumps into the end of the coffee table. Hard. And it makes so much noise, we all bust out laughing and have to run off to the corner by the storage room so the audience won’t hear us. We’re all covering our mouths but still probably making too much noise, and Gregg’s only making us laugh harder by whispering over and over, “It didn’t even hurt,” because we all know there’s no way it didn’t hurt.

Then, all of a sudden, Darnell stops laughing and goes, “We still have to finish setting up that scene.”

“Oh, shit,” Trevor says, and we all take off running back behind the curtain to finish everything before that play is over and the set has to be turned again.

And we do it. Kinda. We put the furniture in place and change the backdrop, then rotate the set right on time. The only thing is, I’m still holding the fake cell phone, which Tanya is gonna need in, like, three minutes.

I’m just staring at it in my hand, frozen, when Darnell comes up behind me, snatches it, and literally slides it across the stage like he’s bowling or something. It makes a ton of noise, rattling along the wood ’til it hits the couch and stops. Some people in the audience start laughing, but Tanya and Kevin keep saying their lines like a cell phone comes sliding into their living room all the time, no big deal.

I lean over real close to Darnell and whisper in his ear, “You saved me.”

He whispers back, “That’s what I’m here for.” He smiles, and me and him look at each other in the eyes for, like, a second. Then he looks down at the floor.

It’s not ’til the play’s over and the actors are taking their curtain calls that I even think about Renée again. Right away I feel that little stab of pain in my chest. It’s the same kinda pain I been getting ever since I was a little kid, when Renée would tell me she was gonna come home to see me for my birthday or on Mother’s Day or something, then wouldn’t show up because she had a paper to write or a test to study for. And I would get all upset. Every time. It’s like I would never learn.

Since it’s the last show, Mr. Melendez takes extra long with the curtain calls, making sure all of us get to take our bow. I mean, I’m still not all that comfortable in front of the audience, even for the ten seconds I’m out there. The only good thing is being called a set designer for the third day in a row. I could probably get used to that.

After everyone is introduced and the house lights are back up, the cast members practically break their necks running out to the lobby, still in their costumes, just so all their friends and family can congratulate them. Me and the rest of the crew just stand there backstage, shaking our heads. We don’t say anything, but it’s kinda hard to believe how much attention they need. Like, it’s not enough to get people to spend seven dollars to look at you and clap for you, and even give you a standing ovation. No, after all that, they still need more hugs and butt kissing.

Actors.

It takes us about a half hour to put away all the props and clear everything off the set. We don’t really
need
to spend that much time, but we’re too busy acting stupid, wasting time. Probably everyone is like me, not really wanting it to end. I know I don’t wanna go home, if Renée is there or not. I’m not even sure if I want her to be there, not with the mood I’m in now.

Before I leave, I sweep the set while Mara and Trevor put away all the extension cords and stuff. Then, when I bring the broom back to the janitor’s closet, Darnell’s there and asks me if I’m okay.

“Yeah,” I say real fast. “Why?”

“’Cause you look like somebody died or something. And you were kind of, you know, zoned out today.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“You still coming on Friday, right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “You?”

“Yeah.”

The crew is getting together after school on Friday to strike the set. Then we’re all going to the diner afterward. I already got the okay from Nana, but that’s only because she thinks the whole thing’s gonna be chaperoned by Mr. Melendez. But it’s just gonna be us by ourselves.

“You sure you’re alright?” Darnell asks again.

“Yeah.” This time I say it kinda quiet because I’m not really sure, now that I think about it. I mean, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to think about this. It’s getting harder always trying to act like I’m okay when I’m not.

Darnell is looking at me now, like he’s worried about me. I give him a weak smile, and after a couple of seconds, he turns around to wash his hands in the big sink. For a second I just stand there watching him, wanting to say something or do something. It’s not that I want him to worry about me. I just want him to pay attention to me again.

I stand the broom up in the corner and reach above Darnell to put the dustpan on the shelf over the sink. And I’m not sure why, but when I do, I put my hand on his shoulder to balance myself. My body rubs against his back a little, but he don’t even look up. He just keeps washing his hands.

So I leave the janitor’s closet without even saying good-bye, and I walk real slow outta the theater. A few people are still hanging around in the lobby, some probably waiting for the actors to finish changing outta their costumes, some looking like they’re still there because of the baseball game that was going on in the field.

The game probably just ended, too, because, as I’m walking past the gym, some of the players are coming outta the locker room. And I start walking even slower, trying to see if Nashawn’s around. Not that I necessarily wanna run into him or anything. Not really.

A couple of guys come out carrying heavy-looking duffel bags, but no Nashawn. And anyway, I can’t walk all that slow without looking like a hard-up girl waiting around to say hi to some guy. What’s the point, anyway? It’s not like he even really talks to me, well, except when he wants computer help or free pizza. Or when he wants to know where Adonna is.

So I just keep walking toward the front doors, but then, since I’m already miserable, I change my mind and decide to
run upstairs to my locker to get my bio book, the one I didn’t even bother bringing home on Friday because I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done this weekend.

It’s kinda dark upstairs because the only lights that are on are the ones over the exits. I get to my locker and open it, and it looks like Adonna has put even more stuff in there than before. Not only does she have her books and folders and papers, but now she got a denim jacket and an umbrella in there, too. It’s crazy how she’s just hogging my locker like I’m not gonna mind.

Before I can barely start looking for my bio book, Adonna’s hairbrush falls out. As I’m picking it up, I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I look up and see it’s Nashawn. He’s carrying his duffel bag, looking as fine as always, and he’s walking in my direction. I mean, I know he’s not coming for me or anything. He’s going to his locker. But he is looking right at me.

And, of course, I look away. I can’t help it.

I pick up the brush and shove it back in my locker and grab my textbook from inside. When Nashawn gets closer to me, he acts surprised, like he didn’t notice me there before. “I can’t see in the dark,” he says. “But you look like that famous set designer.”

I smile. “Famous?”

“I saw that set, man, and it’s good. You got talent.”

“Thanks.”

I close my locker and put the combination lock back on. And I try to act as natural as I can get and not think about the fact that he actually liked my set.

“So, where’s your friend today?” he asks me.

I have to admit it to myself: That hurts a little bit. I don’t know why, what’s going through my head, but I turn to him and ask, “What, do you like Adonna or something?”

“Why you wanna know?”

“Because you keep asking me about her.”

He shrugs and digs into his locker for something. Probably looking for some book that’s buried so deep he never even used it before. “You and her are always together, that’s why.”

“Do you think she’s pretty or what?” I ask, and, really, I’m not sure if I wanna know for Adonna’s sake or my own.

“Of course.”

I lean against the lockers. “What about me? Do you think I’m as pretty as her?” The words leave my mouth before I even think about what I’m saying. Or doing. But for some reason, being here in this hall with only a little light, I’m just feeling different. I wanna know what he thinks about me.
If
he thinks about me.

He looks me in the eye with that smirk that just makes him even more adorable. “Let’s see.” He scans my body, and I’m glad I wore my nicest black jeans with a cute, little black V-neck T-shirt. “You dress real nice,” he says, nodding his head. “And your face and body, yeah, it’s all good.”

I can’t believe Nashawn’s actually checking me out like this. I mean, the way he’s looking at me, it’s kinda intense. But I try to relax and stay in the moment, not get nervous and say something stupid and childish. “You’re not answering my question,” I tell him.

He laughs. “Okay, you got me. Alright. You wanna know if you’re as pretty as Adonna?”

“
Am
I?”

He looks me up and down again and, just like that, my body kinda heats up. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, but he’s doing it. Big-time. Finally, he says, “I’m gonna have to say, yeah, you are. But in a different way.”

I shake my head. “C’mon, tell the truth.”

“That
is
the truth. You’re real hot.”

“Then why don’t you ever look at me? Why you only check out Adonna?”

“Adonna.” He looks like he’s thinking of how to say what’s on his mind. “Adonna is like a fantasy girl, you know, one of those girls that guys have to look at. But you, you got that nice, quiet kind of pretty.”

I roll my eyes and walk away. And without even looking back, I know his eyes are on me. I can feel it. And it feels kinda good.

I pass a few classrooms that are all dark with their doors closed. Then a little farther down the hall is the teachers’ lounge, but I can’t look inside because they got the little window on the door covered with black construction paper. The door is pulled in, but for the first time since I been coming to this school, it’s not closed all the way. And I’m curious what they got in there that they don’t ever let us kids see.

I push on the door lightly in case someone’s inside. A little light is coming in from a half-open window shade on the other side of the room, but near the door, it’s hard to even see what’s in there.

Down the hall I hear Nashawn’s locker close, and a few seconds later he’s standing behind me in the doorway. He don’t
say anything. He just follows me inside and closes the door behind him. Before I know what’s happening, his hands are around my waist, nice and strong, and then a second later he has me up against a wall.

And it’s on.