Losing Romeo (16 page)

Nicole—Starving

I ain't
even going to lie. This diet is getting harder and harder as the days go by. Last night was a challenge with that big pan of lasagna Kierra baked. My stomach was doing all kinds of growling, but more and more people are noticing the weight loss, so this extreme diet is more than worth it.

Sitting in my first-period American history class, I do start to experience more dizziness. It just came out of nowhere. One minute I'm answering the teacher's question, and the next I feel like I'm riding on the back of a spinning top.

“Ms. Dix. Are you all right?”

I place a hand over my mouth. I think I'm just seconds from hurling those two bites of lasagna I had last night. But thank heavens the bell rings and I'm saved from making an ass of myself. I hightail it out of class so fast, I damn near run Romeo over.

He grabs me by my arm. “Whoa. Whoa. Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I just need to get some air.”

Thin concern lines are etched in between Romeo's eyes as he looks me over. “C'mon. I'll walk you outside.”

I would've argued with him, but everything is starting to spin again, so I allow him to take me by the hand and lead me outside. Thank God there's a cool breeze going once I step outside. I quickly chug in a few deep breaths and then feel my jittering nerves settle down.

“At least your color is coming back,” Romeo says, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face.

Still tugging in deep gulps of air, I flutter a smile at him. “Good to know.”

He bobs his head, but there's still concern laced in his eyes. “You look different,” he says simply.

“I've been losing some weight,” I say. I hope that it didn't come out sounding like I was bragging but I did want him to notice. Instead of praising me, like I secretly hoped he would, his concern deepens. “That wouldn't happen to have something to do with you nearly passing out in class, would it?”

I'm both startled and embarrassed.

“What?”

Cocking his head, Romeo's soft brown eyes meet my own. “You're not doing anything crazy, are you?”

I can't stop the tears from rolling down my face even if I wanted to. Before I know it, he's wrapping his arms around me. “Shh. It's all right.”

It's not going to be all right, I want to say.
I'm starving.

“Look, I know looking a certain way is important and everything with you girls. Hell, with guys, too, now that I think about it. But you know it's not worth harming yourself over. I liked you the way you were.”

What?
“You did?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. You're much prettier when you're confident in your own skin. So you're a little thicker than the other girls. So what? It doesn't make you a bad person. In fact, I think you're one of the nicest people I know.”

All I can manage to do is blink at him.

He smiles and bumps our shoulders together. “I like you.”

I blush so hard my face feels like a fireball. “Thanks. I like you, too, even if you are dating my sister.” We share a small laugh.

“Good.” He links his arm through mine. “What do you say I treat you to some fine dining at one of the snack vending machines in the teachers' lounge?”

“We're not allowed in there.”

He gives me another shrug. “Don't worry about it. I have some connections.” He winks at me and then leads me back into the building where we immediately bump into the Redbones. Phoenix's gaze zeroes in on me like a laser beam—in particular, Romeo's arm linked through mine. An accusation without words is hanging in the air, and whatever bond I thought that we were forming is severed completely. But I guess she's all right now that she has her girls back by her side.

“Now, where are you two running off to?” she asks, all syrupy sweet.

“Just to go grab something to—”

“You know, Romeo. I need to run to get to class,” I say, not wanting to give Phoenix more ammunition.

He swivels his head toward me. “Wait. I want us to finish our talk.”

“That's all right.” I pull my arm from his. “I really got to get going.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but I don't hang around to find out what it is. All I know is that I'm sure to get an earful from Phoenix as soon as she gets my ass alone.

Just great.

Tyler—Defeated

Every
part of my body is in some kind of pain. Face, chest, arms and legs—you name it, it feels as if I spent the night hurling my body at one Mack truck after another. After Laquisha and her goons finished pounding me into the floor, I spent the remaining hours with the nurse, who made the call that I didn't need to go to the hospital. I beg to differ, because it sure as hell feels as if a couple of things are broken on my body.

Now that it's daylight, this bitch is threatening to send me back to my room, where I assume my attackers are just waiting so we can have another go with what they started last night. To prove that I'm not scared of them I'd have to accommodate whatever bullshit is headed my way, but I'm really looking forward to putting that off as far as possible.

“I swear you girls are just as bad as the boys,” Nurse Phillips says, shaking her head and scribbling something in a file.

I don't pay her any attention, but if I had a nickel for every time I've heard that in the past couple of years, I'd be one rich teenager.

“So are you going to tell me what all the fighting was about?” she asks.

“Hell if I know.”

Nurse Phillips levels a look on me that says that she doesn't buy it. Why in the hell would I care what she thinks? I just need to map out a plan for how to survive this place for the next six months. Of course I come up with nothing by the time I'm released from the nurse's office and escorted back to my room by some big gorilla-looking woman who probably couldn't smile even if God came down and put in a personal request. When I realize that I'm headed in a different direction, I say, “Isn't my room down the other hallway?”

Gorilla just rolls her eyes. “Since it's clear that you and your roommates don't get along, we decided that it's best that we break y'all up.”

Thank God.
Maybe now my rib cage can get a little more rest before I have to play Rocky again. But whatever joy I experience in that short trip to my new room is quickly dashed when my
new
roommate looks over to the door and slides on a big greasy smile.

“Well, well, well,” she says, sitting up. “I heard your ass was here.”

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“Hello, Billie.”

Anjenai—Room for Two?

“My
goodness. You're about as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” Granny declares as she watches me reapply the makeup Kierra taught me how to use last night.

“I
am
nervous,” I tell her. “What if you don't like him and the boys set out to embarrass me like they usually do?”

She snickers like that stuff is really out of the realm of possibility. “Chile, that boy is already in good with me. Coming over here and meeting me proper tells me that he at least got some home training—not like that boy you used to sit out in the car with acting like this place was some kind of drive-in movie.”

I instantly recall the kiss Romeo gave me in his car out in the parking lot when he drove me home after a night of basketball practice and pizza. Damn, it was just a month ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

“Well, Kwan is different,” I tell her. “At least he doesn't have any baby mama drama at fifteen.”

“That's more good news.” She settles a hand on her hip and cocks her head while I try to line my eyes with one smooth stroke of gel eyeliner.

“What?” I ask, catching an almost goofy grin on her face.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I'm just amazed at how fast you're growing up. Dating, next it will be the prom and then you'll be telling me that you're engaged.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Let's just get me through the ninth grade,” I joke.

“Fine. Fine.” She tosses up her hands. “Do you think you have time to take a little of this casserole over to your friend Kierra's before you leave?”

I remove the brush from my eyelid and frown back at her through the refection in the mirror.

“I know we ain't got much to share ourselves, but every little bit helps, I reckon,” she says, turning away from the bathroom.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, turning and following her to the kitchen. “Why would Kierra and them need a casserole from us? Is there something going on that I don't know about?”

Granny glances back at me with a surprised look. “You mean you don't know?”

Suddenly, my heart starts pounding in double time. “Know what?”

She just blinks at me as if I'd asked her to explain the birds and the bees to me again.

“Well, honey, if Kierra hasn't told you, then I don't think that it's my place.”

Kierra not tell me something?
The actual thought of that causes my heart to squeeze so hard that I literarily gasp aloud. “Granny, what are you talking about?”

She goes over to the oven and pulls out a casserole dish wrapped in aluminum foil. “Here, baby. Take this on over and ask her yourself. I don't think it's my place to tell you if she hasn't.”

“Tell me what?” I feel myself getting agitated.

Instead of answering, Granny hands over the dish, oven mitts and all. “Ask her.”

I stare at my grandmother for another full ten seconds, halfway hoping that she will just break down and confess to whatever the heck she's hinting at. No dice. In the end, I take the casserole dish and rush over to Kierra's place. My mind is scrambling in half a million directions trying figure out this great mystery. By the time I knock on the door, my stomach is tied up in knots. Why, after everything we've been through, hasn't she told me about whatever is going on with her? Have I been ignoring her? Have I been so wrapped up in my own world that I haven't been paying attention to her?

Finally, I hear footsteps approach the door. I take a deep breath and tell myself to remain calm and not just start interrogating Kierra when she opens the door.

“Who is it?”

“It's me,” I tell her, rolling my eyes and tapping my foot. Why doesn't the girl ever use her peephole on the door?

“Anje?” She slides the chain lock off and then twists the bolt lock before opening the door. “What are you doing
here?” she asks. “Aren't you supposed to be on your date? Is something wrong?”

Kierra's instant concern about me quickly wipes away every question I had coming over here. I don't know why, but suddenly small pieces of the puzzle Granny gave me start clicking in place. Pieces I hadn't paid attention to until now. When was the last time I saw Deborah's car parked in the parking lot? There being so little food in the refrigerator last night and her cavalier attitude toward letting me borrow clothes from her sister's closet. Why does it seem as if Kierra is exhausted all the time?

“Anje?” Kierra opens the door a little farther, as if to step outside the apartment, and I catch sight of some guy in the living room with a big duffel bag on the table. I think I've seen him around school, but I'm not sure.

“Oh, I didn't know that you had someone coming,” I say. “I can come back another time.” I turn and belatedly realize that I still had Granny's casserole in my hand. “Oh. Granny wanted me to bring you this.”

Kierra glances down. “What's that?”

“A casserole.” I shrug my shoulders up and down. “I guess she, um, made a little too much this evening.”

Kierra's brows dip together at my odd answer, but heck, I couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Well, thanks,” she says, fluttering a smile. “I'm sure we'll enjoy it since your granny can throw down in the kitchen.” She reaches for the dish, but I step back. “Ah, it's hot. I can just take it to the kitchen.” Mainly, I want to see if she'll invite me into the apartment or pull another Tyler and leave me standing out here in the hallway.

Kierra does hesitate for a moment, but then finally steps back with that same nervous smile. “Sure, come on in.”

Relief pours over me as I take a huge step across the threshold. The dude sitting on the sofa hops up and quickly flips the top of his duffel bag down as if he doesn't want me to see what's inside.

“Oh, hey, Anjenai. How's it hanging?”

Surprised that he knows my name, I take a harder look at his face and try to place a name to it.

“Drake,” he answers the unspoken question. “Drake Brown. I go to Jackson High with you and Kierra.”

A boyfriend?
My smile stretches as I turn an accusatory glance toward my best friend. Her face is bright red with embarrassment.

“C'mon. You can put the casserole on the stove. We'll have some for dinner tonight,” she tells me as she turns and marches into the kitchen.

I follow close behind her. “You know you're wrong for this, don't you?” I hiss at her. “Why didn't you tell me you were seeing some dude at school? How long have you two been seeing each other?”

She blinks at me. “Um, we, um, are just friends,” she says unconvincingly—mainly because her entire face is blotchy red.

“Uh-huh. You ain't got to front. It's me, remember?” I lean out the kitchen door and take another look at the dude. “He's a little short—but then again, so are you.” I wiggle my brows at her. “Where's McKenya?”

“Spending the night at her friend Regina's place. I walked her a few minutes ago.”

“Ah. So it's just you and this dude in the house,” I say. “You better not let Deborah find out.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. In my defense, all I can say is that I wasn't thinking. Also in that one second, Kierra's red face collapses and a rush of tears starts pouring down her face.

“Oh, God, Kierra. I'm sorry.” I sweep open my arms and quickly wrap them around her small shoulders. Next thing I know she's drenching my shirt with warm tears. “It's going to be all right,” I tell her. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want anyone to know,” she admits. “What if someone told Child and Family Services and breaks up McKenya and me? What if we have to go to foster care or something?” She starts shaking her head. “I wouldn't be able to stand it. We might not be able to be friends anymore.”

“C'mon. That will never happen. We will always be friends no matter what happens.”

She continues to shake her head. “We don't know that. I mean, look what's happening between us and Tyler. We're already separating and we've only been in high school a couple of months. I can't imagine what we'll be like after four years.”

That thought had also crossed my mind. “Look. We're not going to let that happen,” I tell her despite my own doubts. “We're going to do our best not to let that happen. As far as Tyler is concerned, we're going to start writing and sending her care packages every chance we get. Agreed?”

Kierra cries just a little harder.

“If life is going to get harder, then we're just going to fight harder to stay together. Agreed?” I insist.

“Okay,” she croaks. “Agreed.”

“Good.” I walk over to a thinning roll of paper towels. “Now wipe your face. Now, since McKenya is spending the night out, what do you say about going to Club Zero with Kwan and me?”

“What? No…I can't.”

“Why not? We can double date.” I turn toward the kitchen door. “Wait…no, Anje—”

“Drake,” I call out to the living room, ignoring her. “How do you feel about going out to Club Zero with us tonight?”

“Club Zero?” His face lights up. “Count me in!”

I turn toward Kierra. “There, it's all settled. All we have to do now is tell
my
date.”