Paper Cuts (24 page)
Authors: Yvonne Collins
R & B DIVA TURNS HER BACK ON LITERACY
Rising rhythm and blues singer Solana G. deserted hundreds of fans at the Harold Washington Library Center yesterday. Ms G. was set to perform on behalf of Colonel Dunfield High, one of 120 schools competing in the citywide Literacy Challenge.
Ms G. refused to comment, but some speculate that the move was a publicity stunt perfectly timed with the kickoff of the young singer’s first national tour.
I drop the newspaper and let my head hit the table. ‘I can’t read any more.’
Izzy pats my shoulder. There’s nothing she can say to make me feel better, and she has the sense not to try.
Eventually I find the strength to lift my head and stare
at the photo beside the article. It shows Solana leaving the Library Center with Grace on her heels. As they both appear to be yelling at reporters, it’s an unflattering shot.
‘They’ve got the whole story wrong,’ I say.
Rachel pushes my caramel macchiato toward me, and I shake my head. This is a disaster even Starbucks cannot relieve, but at least I have my friends to help me through it. They suggested meeting here early so that we could walk into Dunfield as a united front, but that was before we knew about the article. Izzy’s father discovered it as she was leaving the house.
‘Solana had the best intentions, and they’ve tagged her as a diva,’ I groan. ‘Finding out that my soul mate’s a loser and a liar was bad enough, but this is so much worse.’
‘Hold that thought,’ Izzy says, preparing to read the rest of the story aloud:
The Literacy Gala gave the three top schools a chance to add to their funds through donations from some of Chicago’s most generous patrons. Colonel Dunfield had the strongest program, thanks to promised appearances by Ms G. and Chicago Bulls point guard, Jordan Peters. This led to a surprise win for a school at which students traditionally miss more classes than they attend.
The event began unraveling when two Dunfield students who pen a popular syndicated column called ‘The Word’ began bickering onstage. Their principal, Alicia Alvarez, tried to intervene, but heckling from the
crowd prompted the female half of the duo, Luisa Perez, to flee. Her male counterpart, Joey Carella, left shortly thereafter.
Mayor Grimsby attempted to get the show back on track by introducing the popular Ms G., but by that time she had walked, too, taking most of the press with her. Mr Peters also disappeared.
The show did go on eventually, with special guests of the Turnbull Academy and Warwick Central fulfilling their commitment.
Afterward, Dunfield donors complained that they had supported the wrong school. Mayor Grimsby responded by renouncing Colonel Dunfield’s win and awarding the grand prize – an extended winter holiday – to the Turnbull Academy.
‘I hope people will forget one misfire in what was a very successful campaign and remember that Chicago schools have raised nearly a million dollars for literacy this fall,’ Mayor Grimsby said.
‘Oh, man, we lost the prize too,’ I say. ‘I can’t show my face at school again.’
‘That’s what your mother was afraid of,’ a male voice says.
Paz is standing over us, wearing a black leather jacket and combat boots. His hair is squished on one side as if he just rolled out of bed.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, injecting as much contempt into my tone as I can. Paz and I haven’t really
spoken since he scared Joey off, and while that turned out to be for the best, I still wish he’d stop meddling in my life.
‘Your mom asked me to pick you up here and take you to class,’ he says. ‘And don’t give me attitude, because getting up early to visit Dumpfield isn’t my idea of a good time.’
‘I do not need a bodyguard.’
Paz crosses his arms. ‘You might, actually. This vacation was a big deal for a lot of miserable students. Some might want to show you how pissed off they are.’
The attitude drains out of me pretty fast. ‘Well, maybe I should stay home for a couple of days.’
‘Not an option,’ he says. ‘Your mother’s wish is my command, Shorty. So grab your things and let’s get going.’
‘Wait,’ Izzy says, leaping to her feet. She digs a hairbrush and clips out of her bag and starts putting up my hair. ‘Rachel, get the rest of the stuff.’
‘Izzy, what are you doing?’ I ask. ‘It doesn’t matter how I look if I’m going to be torn limb from limb.’
Rachel pulls out Izzy’s mother’s rabbit fur bomber jacket, a floppy hat, and sunglasses.
‘Now, if you could just add a couple of inches to her legs,’ Paz says.
Izzy dangles a pair of steep platform shoes. ‘Done.’
After Paz sends the girls on ahead, I ask, ‘Is it really going to be that bad?’
‘Probably not,’ he says, pulling the hat over my face. ‘But
if I have to take out a couple of Dunfield dweebs, I’m ready.’
He reaches for my coffee, and I don’t even complain as he chugs it. What’s a four-dollar macchiato between in-laws?
‘You look like a ’ho,’ Paz says amiably, as we turn the last corner and Dunfield comes into view.
‘No risk of my
acting
like one, with you around.’
He snorts. ‘I talked to Carella, that’s all. If a guy on my crew has his mitts all over you, I feel responsible for making sure he isn’t getting out of line. No one is going to disrespect my family.’
‘If Joey’s mitts were on me – and that really isn’t any of your business – it was just as much my doing as his. He was always a gentleman in person, Paz. He only dissed me in print.’
‘That was just showing off. Guys are idiots, remember?’
‘Now you’re taking his side?’
‘I’m just saying that when the column started you weren’t seeing each other, and by the time you were, the tone was already set.’
What is wrong with the world when Paz starts to sound like the voice of reason? ‘He got a lot worse
after
we started seeing each other,’ I point out. ‘And he knew by then that his identity would be revealed, which would make the girl he was writing about a laughing stock.’
‘Whereas no one was going to laugh at Prince Newshound? I’d kill Grace for making me look like such a sap, and I’m a sensitive guy – practically a feminist.’
I fight the urge to return his grin. ‘I don’t want to talk about Joey. We’re over.’
‘Give him a while to cool off, and I bet he’ll accept your apology.’
‘
My
apology!’ I look at him and find the grin has expanded. ‘That will
never
happen.’
‘“Over” doesn’t always stay that way,’ Paz says. ‘I’ll have another talk with him.’
‘Don’t you dare!’
He offers me his leather-clad arm as we approach the main staircase at Dunfield. As usual, the stairs are lined with students who can’t bear to enter until the last possible moment. Some of them are smoking openly, although it’s against the rules.
‘Isn’t that her?’ someone mutters.
One guy steps forward and says, ‘Luisa Perez?’
Paz stops walking. He is several inches shorter than the thug, but there’s no question, he has presence. ‘Who wants to know?’
And that’s all it takes. The guy fades back into the crowd and we continue up the stairs. Paz turns at the top to give everyone a last look and remind them that I have friends with muscle.
After he delivers me to homeroom, however, I’m on my own.
I never thought a summons to the principal’s office could be a welcome reprieve, but today it is. I take my backpack
with me in the hopes that I don’t have to return to class. Being expelled would be a reprieve too.
Clattering toward the principal’s office on Izzy’s platforms, I replace my hat and shades, but the few students in the hall seem to have X-ray vision, because heads swivel as I pass. The Luisa Perez who wanted to be noticed was a fool.
‘Good morning, Luisa,’ Mrs Alvarez says, directing me to a seat. ‘Hat and glasses, please.’
I sweep them off and get straight to the point. ‘I’m sorry about what happened, Mrs Alvarez.’
She gets straight to the point, too. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘Wait it out?’ I suggest. ‘People will forget what happened by next year.’
‘I mean about Solana. She’s taken the brunt of this unfairly, Luisa. I’m sure you realize how difficult it was for her to agree to speak about her experiences.’
I hang my head and stare at the gray carpet, worn thin by so many delinquent feet. ‘I already called her, but she didn’t pick up.’
‘You’ll have to be more creative,’ she says. ‘And I know how creative you can be.’ She allows her glasses to slide down her nose and looks over them. ‘Columnists have to take responsibility for any damage they cause. So I’ll see you back here at the same time tomorrow with a progress report.’
Great, I’m becoming a regular, just like my sister.
By 11 a.m. I’m exhausted, and Izzy’s shoes are killing me. I walked over to Solana’s building and got spurned by the doorman. I returned half an hour later with two expensive cigars for him, which won me the privilege of leaving a box of Donner chocolates and a card full of groveling for Solana. Then I walked to Dan’s to catch Grace as she came in for the lunch shift.
‘You’re blowing off school,’ she says when she sees me. ‘Bad Luisa.’
All things considered, she’s being pretty decent. It must be kind of nice for her to see
me
in trouble for a change.
‘Mrs Alvarez practically gave me permission,’ I say, telling her about our meeting. ‘I want to call Solana from your cell phone in case she’ll pick up.’
‘I already tried,’ Grace says, sighing. ‘We’re both blacklisted.’
‘What am I going to do? I have to make it up to her somehow.’
Grace pours me a coffee and slides it across the counter. ‘You’re creative. You’ll think of something.’
I wish people would stop saying that.