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Authors: L. Divine

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BOOK: Second Chance
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I agree with him. The movies are cool, but it's not conducive for getting to know someone. KJ and I used to go to the movies on the regular, and the only thing he was interested in was making out. This date's already off to the right start, as far as I'm concerned.
 
We end up in Manhattan Beach by the pier. It's a trendy little spot. There are bookstores, chic clothing stores with shit I could never afford, and coffeehouses. My favorite coffee spot is right on the corner, The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.
“You mind if we stop here? I want to get a Café Vanilla.”
“Yeah, I like Coffee Bean too. I usually get the Chocolate Ice Blended,” Jeremy says.
“Well, aren't we just the exact opposite of each other,” I say, eyeing the joint to see if there are any other Black people around. Nope, not a one.
“You wanna sit down in here or on the patio?”
“On the patio's good,” I say, claiming a seat with a sidewalk view.
“I'll get our drinks.” He's such a gentleman. If I was with KJ, I'd be paying for my own coffee, since he's not into the whole coffee shop thing. And we definitely wouldn't be sitting down and talking up in this place.
When Jeremy comes back outside with our drinks, we talk until the place closes. I find out he's a true surfer dude. He wakes up at 4
A.M.
to get out and surf every morning. His mother's from Louisiana and his dad's from Brooklyn. His mom's a Baptist, his dad is Jewish, and he and his two brothers don't know what to believe and don't really care. He's the baby of the family. They have a dog, Ganymede, that doesn't bark.
“I've never heard of a dog that doesn't bark. Are you sure she's not broken or something,” I say, sipping the last of my drink.
“No, she's not broken. She's a basenji.”
“A what?” I ask. The only dogs in my neighborhood are pit bulls, dobermans and mutts, and they all bark.
“A basenji. Better known as the African barkless dog,” he says, sounding very proud.
“Now I know you're lying. Ain't nothing in Africa quiet, especially not a dog. What's the point of having a dog that doesn't bark?” I ask.
“Well, I'm not getting into the history of Ganymede's ancestors, but my mom specifically chose her because she doesn't bark.” Now, that's strange. Usually people get dogs to warn them of danger, which they do by barking. So why wouldn't she want a dog that barks?
“Okay, Jeremy, whatever. What about the name Ganymede? Where did that come from?”
“Actually, I named her after one of the moons of Jupiter. It's my favorite planet.” He pulls up his right sleeve to reveal a tattoo of Jupiter on his arm.
“I've never known anyone to have a favorite planet,” I say, avoiding the secondhand smoke floating our way from the other people sitting outside. We must be the only nonsmokers out here.
“Well, I don't much believe in things I can't see. So, you can kinda say Jupiter's my concrete evidence in something else out there bigger than us.”
“So, you don't believe in God at all?” I ask. I've also never known anyone who's an atheist. This date is just full of first-time adventures for me.
“No, I don't. Between my parents' arguments about their beliefs and my own aversion to anything religious, I just don't care too much about God and religion and anything like it,” he says, finishing the last of his Ice Blended.
“Really? So, how do you think Jupiter came to be?” I ask, enjoying the conversation's new direction.
“Well, like I said. I believe something made us and the solar system, obviously. But, all the God stuff and spirituality and shit is just made up. I remember talking to Mrs. Bennett about it one day in class, and she almost passed out,” he says, referring to my most hated teacher, aside from Mrs. Peterson.
“Please don't mention her name to me. I'm having such a nice night.”
“I know. A lot of people can't stand her. But, she's cool to me. Besides, she's the only teacher who challenges my intellect and allows me to challenge hers.” Jeremy's hella smart, but doesn't flaunt it. I really like that about him and everything else so far. When the coffee shop's staff tells us they're closing, I fear the date might be over.
“Well, I'm glad I got to know more about you. And thank you for the coffee. I had a really good time.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me or something? It's only midnight, and the car doesn't turn back into a pumpkin until 2
A.M.
Care to see it happen?” Damn, he's sexy when he's being a smart-ass.
“You know what, you don't have to be funny. I just assumed that since the place is closing down we were going home.”
“Why would you assume that? The night is young. I want you to meet some of my friends outside of school, if you're up for it.”
Oh, hell, where's he taking me? You know how all them movies end with the little Black girl being sacrificed or something crazy like that. But, I'm going to risk it 'cause I don't want the night to end just yet.
We get back in his car and cruise down Pacific Coast Highway toward Palos Verdes. It's a perfect night to be by the beach. The moon's full, the sky's clear, and the air is chilly, but not too cold. As if he'd read my mind, Jeremy reaches into the backseat and grabs his poncho pullover, a surfer must-have, and hands it to me.
“Here. I know it can get a bit cool, especially for people who aren't used to cold beach nights.” He's damn right about that. This little cute jacket I brought ain't doing nothing to keep me warm. This poncho looks like it's just what I need. And, so does he.
“Thank you, 'cause a sistah is getting hella cold,” I say, pulling the poncho over my head, careful not to mess up my already poofy hair.
“Why'd you do that?”
“Do what?” I ask, self-conscious.
“Try not to touch your hair. The poncho won't hurt it, you know.”
“Oh, no, but it will. You see what the ocean air has already done to it. I don't want your friends to see me looking like a madwoman.”
“Your hair is really important to you, isn't it?”
“You just don't get it, do you? My hair is very sensitive to the elements. The slightest change in air temperature, moisture, or something as simple as putting on a poncho can permanently affect the style of my hair for the night.”
“Well, I think your hair looks sexy like it is. Besides, you look way better than any of the people you're going to meet tonight.” This dude's really diggin' me, ain't he?
We pull up to what looks to me like the middle of nowhere. Or rather, the deserted beach where they sacrifice people in horror flicks. He parks the car on the sand, grabs my hand, and leads me down a steep sand hill. At the bottom of the hill, right off the beach, I see a bonfire and smell marijuana burning in the wind.
As we get closer, I can hear drumming and a guitar. People are just lying around, kickin' it. Most of them look high off something; the rest look like they're mesmerized by the motion of the waves.
“Jayd, meet my surfing crew. Crew, this is Jayd.” They all look at me and nod a cool “What's up?” before returning to their individual trances.
“So what do you think?” Jeremy asks, as we sit down on the cold sand.
“Honestly, this is the most peaceful I've felt in a long time. All night I haven't thought about the drama of this past week at all. Thank you for taking me out. I'm having a good time.”
“Well, I hope it won't be the last.” Jeremy pulls me in close to him and wraps his arms around me. He smells like vanilla incense and Polo cologne. It's at this moment I realize I could easily fall in love with him.
I purposely turned off my phone when we left the house because KJ has been on my jock all weekend. And, I know my girls must be bugging out over the fact that I'm not at Byron's party. They've probably been trying to reach me all night. I don't want anything ruining our night, especially not any annoying phone calls or text messages. And, it's perfect. I can't wait to go home tomorrow night and tell Mama all about my date with Jeremy.
3
Jaw Jackin'
“You ain't saying nothin' homie/You ain't fresh azimiz.”
—LIL' BOW WOW
 
 
O
n our way back to Compton Sunday evening, my mom and I have a chance to talk about my date with Jeremy. I'm glad too because I've been itching to tell someone about it and Nellie and Mickey aren't answering their phones.
“So, how was the party last night?” my mom asks as we merge from the 105 freeway to the 91. She drives like a race car driver in her little Mazda. I hope she teaches me how to drive before my test at the DMV in a couple of months. If I play it right, I can have my license by Thanksgiving. I'm saving up for a car, even though my dad promised he'd help me to get one when the time comes. But, I don't know about trusting him to get the kind of car I need. That's why I put a small portion of my paycheck away in the bank every month. But I will have to remember to ask my dad about my car situation next weekend when I see him.
“We didn't actually make it to the party. We ended up having coffee and hangin' out by the beach with some of his friends instead,” I say.
“Really? And that was okay with you?”
“It was better than okay. I had enough drama at school all week long. I didn't need any more from the same haters while trying to get to know Jeremy. I didn't expect him to be such a gentleman. But last night gave me a good insight into his character. And, so far so good,” I say, smiling like the Kool-Aid man. “When he dropped me off last night, he didn't even attempt to kiss me or feel me up.”
“Is that right,” my mom says, not completely convinced of Jeremy's chivalry.
“Yes, it is. He just walked me up the stairs and gave me a big hug,” I say, defending my man.
“A gentleman, huh,” my mom says, glancing at me from the corner of her eye and giving a sly smile. “What's your definition of a gentleman?”
“Well, someone who opens the door for me, gives me compliments, and who doesn't pressure me about sex from jump street,” I answer, realizing I'm comparing Jeremy to KJ. Not that KJ didn't open a door for me once or twice. But, being complimentary ain't his thang, and neither is waiting for the cookies. KJ tried to jump my bones the first time we kicked it during summer school and would do it now, if he had the chance.
“Well, men who act the gentleman can also be control freaks. Your father was a gentleman, and look at us now,” she says as we exit onto Central Boulevard, only a few minutes away from Mama's house.
“Jeremy's nothing like my dad,” I say, hurt my mom would even make such a comparison after all the mess my dad put her through.
“All I'm saying is be careful, Jayd. Take your time with this one and make sure he stays a gentleman. Once you give up your opinion, cookies, or whatever else they can take, all the gentleman shit goes out the door.”
 
When I get home, Mama and Daddy's yelling can be heard all the way outside. They have the best fights. Mama gets to talking to Daddy while he gets dressed to go out with the church members, all of whom happen to be women, for Sunday night dinner. Mama knows more than dinner's going on and always tries to get him to tell the truth.
“Look, Lynn Mae, I ain't got to lie to you. I'm a grown man. Good, Christian, and God-fearing, unlike yourself. If you want to come to dinner, come. You're always welcome back in the church,” Daddy says, knowing good and well Mama ain't going nowhere near them church folks.
“You're such a lying ass. You don't even know when you're telling a lie anymore. Church dinner my ass. Who is it this time, huh, Ray? One of them little young heffas, or did you have a taste for some old cat tonight?” Mama can get raw when she's pushed.
“If I wanted some old cat, I'd stay home.” And that was checkmate. Daddy left, and Mama went outside to work in her spirit room. She said she was working on a potion for one of her clients, but I think she was working on one to use on Daddy.
After the house drama, I don't bother telling Mama about my in-house suspension tomorrow. I'm sure they'll send a letter home tomorrow, on which I'll promptly forge my mom's signature and turn back in Tuesday morning. They never check, and my mom doesn't want to be bothered with menial stuff like that. I'm not looking forward to suspension, but I am looking forward to seeing Jeremy tomorrow. I'm still buzzing from our date last night. I didn't get home until 2
A.M.
and barely stayed awake at work. All I want to do now is sleep and hope tomorrow goes by fast.
 
When I get to campus, I immediately report to the main office to serve my time. Nellie and Mickey are waiting for me by the principal's office, which is next to the conference room. I've never been suspended before, so I don't really know how this works. But, Mickey was suspended last year for fighting Misty, so she knows the ropes.
I'm still pissed KJ didn't get in-house with us. Being an athlete has too many perks. And, not to mention he's still harassing me. He's texted me three times already this morning and left me several messages last night, mostly wanting to know where I was Saturday night and if I was hangin' out alone. He's on my jock hard now, just like he should be. I feel like I'm serving time for my man while he's on vacation with another woman. This ain't my ideal romantic situation, and KJ's got his nerve trying to get back with me now.
“Hey, y'all,” I say, trying to sound chipper, even though I'm really not looking forward to this part of my day. “Ready for Alcatraz?”
“Jayd, it's not that bad,” Mickey says as she and Nellie take a seat on the benches outside the principal's office. I walk up to Mrs. Cole's desk and lean up against the side, waiting for her to return and lead us to the conference room.
“Speak for yourself, Mickey,” Nellie says, flipping her perfectly straightened hair over her shoulders and rolling her eyes in disgust. “I'm way too cute to be on lockdown like some criminal. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“You have a reputation of being a tight-ass, and I doubt it'll be tarnished by this little episode,” Mickey retorts. “Besides, this might be good for your reputation. Everybody needs a little bad girl in them, right, Jayd?”
“I have enough bad girl in me. I could do without the school's intervention,” I say, anxiously eyeing the busy office. The warning bell just rang, and students and teachers alike are buzzing around hurrying off to class.
“We missed you at the party,” Nellie says, sounding disappointed. “We dressed alike and everything. All eyes were on the two cute Black girls when there should have been three.” Oh, here we go again. This girl gets salty at the drop of a dime. But, I know it's all in love.
“Nellie, you know I wouldn't have missed the party if it was in my control. Also, I had enough of Misty and KJ during the week. I really didn't want to deal with their energy on the weekend too,” I say. I hope she understands my decision. “I would have been cool with you ditching me to get to know a guy who could be your soul mate.” I'm still high off Jeremy from Saturday night. I can only imagine how our first kiss is going to feel.
“Energy, soul mate? What the hell happened to you on Saturday, Jayd?” Mickey asks, mocking my vibe.
“So you did get my messages,” I say, nudging her in the shoulder with my elbow. “Why you didn't call me back? I'm crushed.”
“Oh, shut up, girl. You know you couldn't care less about me returning your call. We had to recuperate from Saturday night,” she says, returning my nudge.
“Yeah, girl, it was heavy up in Byron's house. Shrimp, caviar, chocolate soufflé, you name it. I had niggeritis all day Sunday.” Mickey is crazy.
“I'm quite sure that's politically incorrect,” Nellie says, looking offended.
“Whatever. You know I'm right,” Mickey says, rolling her eyes at Nellie. “So, Jayd, how's the White boy?”
“He's real cool,” I say, ready to drop the details of our date. But the killjoy arrives right on cue. I bet she was listening to our entire conversation on the low.
“What's up?” Misty says as she enters through the double doors connecting the main hall to the office. No this girl isn't talking to us after all the shit she's put us through in only the first week of school.
“Did you hear something?” Mickey says, looking around the office as if she doesn't know it's Misty talking.
“No, I didn't,” Nellie responds, playing along. “I thought I heard a rat, but it couldn't have been. The administration would send an exterminator immediately if there were any pest control problems on campus.”
“Not if the pest's mother worked here,” Mickey says with a giggle. She and Nellie can be so rude sometimes. But, I do agree. The school would be better off without Misty around.
“Again, I try to be friendly and this is how I'm treated,” Misty says, feigning hurt. She could really care less if Mickey or Nellie speak to her; she just gets pleasure out of their reactions. “Cat got your tongue, Jayd,” she says, noting my silence.
“I have nothing to say to you, Misty.”
She shoots me a look of pure hatred. I wish she would say something slick to me, 'cause this morning I'm not in the mood and I will snap back at her.
“If Mrs. Cole asks, tell her I went to the ladies' room,” Misty says, walking back through the doors leading to the main hall.
“That bitch has got some nerve, greeting us like we're homies. She's lucky we ain't in Compton right about now because I'd whip her ass,” Mickey says.
 
“Good morning, ladies,” Mrs. Cole says as she walks toward her desk from the principal's office carrying two DVDs and a set of keys. “Nellie and Mickey, you'll be in the small conference room adjacent to the principal's office. Misty and Jayd will be in the large conference room, next to me.” How Misty and I got placed in the same room for in-house suspension is beyond me. Doesn't she know she's the reason the fight happened in the first place?
“Can I please be in the same room with Nellie and Mickey?” I ask in my nicest voice possible. I'm liable to smack Misty eventually, and that will only get me into more trouble.
“I'm afraid not, Miss Jackson. Rules are rules. Where is Misty anyway? The bell rang five minutes ago,” Mrs. Cole says as she walks toward the small conference room and unlocks the door to let Nellie and Mickey in. Not one of us answers. “That girl's habitually late,” Mrs. Cole says in response to our silence. “You girls are on first lunch; Jayd and Misty will be on second.” Damn. I don't even get to talk to my girls at lunch? This is punishment for real. “Jayd, why don't you go into the large conference room; the door's already open. I'll be there in a second.”
“See you later, Jayd,” Nellie says as she follows Mrs. Cole into the small conference room.
“Yeah, you and Misty have fun,” Mickey says sarcastically.
The conference room reminds me of the one on
The Apprentice
. There's a large, marble table in the center and ten plush leather chairs around it, which take up the majority of the space. At the head of the room is a large white board, and a television and DVD player stand in the corner. There's a large window on the other side of the room, where there's also a sink and small refrigerator.
I choose a seat at the far end of the table, farthest from the door. I can't believe my girls get to kick it with each other all day while I have to sit in this room with my nemesis. What did I do to deserve this? Speak of the devil, there's Misty's loud voice announcing her return. As she enters the room, the scent of her cheap perfume fills the space, nearly choking me.
“Damn, Misty. What are you trying to cover up with all that perfume?”
“Don't hate. You're just pissed because your precious reputation has been tainted by this little visit,” she says as she seats her wide behind into the chair across the table from me.
“Excuse me, ladies. There's no talking. This is suspension, not vacation,” Mrs. Cole says as she enters the room to cue the DVD player to our disciplinary video. “This three-hour presentation will show you the consequences of being a problematic student. After the video, you will be excused to lunch. When you return, you must complete your regular class work and a multiple choice quiz about the video before leaving for the day.”
“A quiz? I thought this was suspension, not an extra class,” Misty says. Mrs. Cole makes an ugly face at Misty. Not even five minutes and already Misty has managed to irritate her.
“Again, this isn't a vacation, Miss Truewell,” Mrs. Cole says. “And, being an office aide, you should really know better than to be in this predicament in the first place. I'll have to talk to your mother about your status when she gets here,” she says, looking at the clock on the wall. Misty's mom is late, as usual. “Mr. Adelezi will be in to talk to you girls about the incident later. Now, again, there's absolutely no talking. If I hear any voices, we'll have to extend the suspension for another day.”
BOOK: Second Chance
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