With Friends Like These (9 page)

W
e were all sitting in the makeup room at the station. The ladies had just added the finishing touches on me and started working on Jasmine.

“I like the colors they used on you,” Alexis said to me.

“Hmm, I don’t.” Tameka snickered.

We all cut our eyes at her.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The two makeup artists were at the other end of the room. I doubt they could hear us because they had a CD playing in the background.

“What’s wrong with my makeup?” I said, looking at myself in the mirror again.

“Well, everyone knows when you’re dealing with TV you should put on more makeup than you’d normally wear.”

“How does everyone know this?” Alexis asked.

“It’s just common knowledge. That’s why they have studio makeup. You know, that stuff that’s really thick and gooey. It’s like that for a reason, you know,” Tameka said as she applied more lipstick to her already bright lips.

“Well, I think you look just fine,” Alexis said to me.

“She would say that. But honestly, Alexis, your makeup needs a bit more work, too,” Tameka said. She jumped up from her stool. I glanced down toward the makeup artist, who was still busy working on Jasmine.

“Here, let me show you guys what I mean.” Tameka grabbed an old magazine from a table. She flipped through the pages until she arrived at one with models in it.

“Now, look at these models. You see their makeup? They’re not wearing those dull colors. Those brown and earth colors. Look for yourselves if you don’t believe me.”

She pushed the magazine forward so that Alexis and I could get a better look.

“That’s why I told them what colors to use on me. I wasn’t about to let them mess up my chances by putting any ol’ thing on my face,” she bragged as she admired her reflection in the mirror.

I didn’t know whether Alexis believed what she was saying, but she and I looked at each other, then down at the pictures of the models in the magazine.

“She looks like a druggie, with those dark circles around her eyes,” I said.

“Yeah, look at this one.” Alexis pointed to another thin model, whose makeup was similar to the first model’s.

“That’s not the point,” Tameka snapped. “The point is, they are completely made up. They’re not just wearing a little makeup, because the camera can be hard on your skin. I mean, it shows all of your imperfections, so you need to overdo it almost. Plus, my cousin at CNN told me you have to do this because the light washes out your makeup, especially on women of color.” She looked at us and shrugged. “But y’all do what you want.”

When I looked at Tameka’s face, I did notice she had applied even more foundation than what the makeup people had put on her. She took one more look at us, then walked off laughing and shaking her head.

When the makeup artist finished working on Jasmine, she came down to our end of the room.

“What’s wrong with y’all?” she asked immediately.

“Nothing, girl, just tripping off something Tameka said,” I replied.

“What now?” Jasmine asked as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror.

As Alexis filled Jasmine in on what Tameka had said, I picked up some of the brushes and started dabbing more makeup on my eyes. Soon the three of us were at the mirror, trying to add more layers on top of what the professionals had already done.

It wasn’t until we heard Rachel’s voice that we stopped and realized what we were doing.

“Girls, why are you still in here? Everyone has been waiting for you guys!” When we turned around, shock was all over her face. “Oh, my goodness! What happened in here?”

I shrugged and looked in the mirror. “What?”

“I thought the makeup artists fixed you guys up. What happened?”

Alexis looked at me, and I looked at Jasmine. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Well, I just mean, your makeup, it just looks like, um…”

“Like what?” Alexis asked.

“They put this on you guys?” Rachel just kept staring at us in amazement.

“We just added to what they did,” I said.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Well, Tameka said we didn’t have on enough makeup,” Alexis answered. “She said we wouldn’t look good on camera if we didn’t add more makeup.” She motioned toward the open magazine. “You know, like the models in the magazines.”

“Girls, I don’t think they wanted you looking like clowns,” she said, pointing to our faces.

Shereen poked her head into the makeup room.

“C’mon, ladies, it’s showtime,” she said. When I turned around, the look on her face said it all.

“What in the world?” She opened the door and stepped into the room.

We all felt like fools.

She looked at her watch, let out a deep breath, and shook her head. “I don’t even want to know. Let’s go. You girls are late, and everyone’s waiting.”

She rushed out of the room and we followed, all of us trying desperately to wipe some of the makeup off with our hands. I looked at Jasmine. That was only making her look worse. I stopped, because I could only imagine what I was making mine look like.

When we walked into the room past Tameka and the producers, I was fuming. Tameka sat there looking like all innocent. She had wiped some of her makeup off and looked really natural. I wanted to wring her neck.

Me, Jasmine, and Alexis all threw her a nasty look as we walked by. We were supposed to tape a mock show with each of us taking turns as hosts, then guests.

The producers immediately shuffled us onstage. Bernadette, who was standing there with a clipboard, looked at us all crazy, I’m sure wondering what was wrong with our faces.

I shook my head. Tameka didn’t know who she was messing with. She wanted to play dirty? Oh, I was about to show her dirty—and before it was all over, Tameka was going to wish she hadn’t messed with me or my friends.

I
applied my last little touch of lip gloss and took another look in the mirror. Even I had to admit, I was looking too cute.

As I looked at my reflection, I thought back to yesterday’s auditions. Things hadn’t turned out that bad after all. Tameka had tried to make us look crazy, but we all managed to blow her off and have a pretty good audition. In fact, Camille had shocked everyone when she used her time as host to ask Tameka why she would stoop to cheating and trying to con people in order to get the job. It had left Tameka speechless. And Camille was so smooth with how she kept things flowing, going on to talk about how it doesn’t matter whether you win or lose but how you play the game. I’d wanted to high-five her right there in the middle of the show.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Jasmine groan. She was stretched out across the sofa in my room, impatiently waiting on me. We were going to a step show at Willowridge High School, which was about fifteen minutes away. But seeing as how we still had to go pick up Camille and the show started in ten minutes, we were definitely going to be late.

“I wish you’d hurry up,” Jasmine groaned.

“Let me just pop some curls in the back of my hair, then I’ll be ready,” I said, as I turned on the curling iron.

“Look, I could’ve been at home writing on my research paper. I only have about three more pages to go. All the time I’m wasting here, I could’ve finished it,” Jasmine said.

“Oh, be quiet. It’s Friday night. Who wants to do homework on a Friday?” I responded.

“Just hurry up,” Jasmine said as she stood up. “I’m going to use the restroom, and it would be great if you were ready to go when I get back.”

“Take your time,” I called out behind her.

She waved me off as she made her way into the bathroom.

I parted my hair and was just about to curl a section when my mother stuck her head into my room.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Hey, Mom,” I said.

“Where are you getting ready to go?” she said as she walked into the room.

“I told you earlier this week I was going to the Willowridge High School step show.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I was sure my mother didn’t remember, but since I was in no mood to argue with her, I didn’t say anything.

“So, who are you going with?” my mother asked as she plopped down on the sofa.

“Jasmine and the rest of the girls from the Good Girlz.” I picked up the hot curling iron and brought it to my hair.

“Well, you have a good time, but I’m hoping you aren’t going with that boy, Haquan.”

I spun around toward her, hoping she didn’t go there again.

“Mother, please. You know his name is Jaquan.”

“No, you please. Don’t tell me you’re still talking to that thug Jaquan, Haquan, all those ghetto names are the same.”

“Mama, you don’t even know Jaquan.” I lowered my voice and looked toward the bathroom door, praying that Jasmine couldn’t hear us.

“I know enough to know that he is not the type of boy I want you spending your time with. He lives in public housing, for Christ’s sake.”

“And? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You know how those people are!”

“No, Mother. I don’t know how those people are. And by the way, who exactly are ‘those people’?”

My mother got this flustered and embarrassed look on her face before replying. “Look, you know what I mean. I’m not trying to put anyone down, but you need to surround yourself with positive people.”

“How do you know Jaquan isn’t positive?” She was really pushing it now.

“Well, shall I say, people with similar goals and backgrounds. You go hanging out with that boy, and one of his dope-dealing friends will end up shooting you in the head trying to send a message.”

I looked at my mother, waiting for her to start laughing or something. She couldn’t possibly be serious. But the expression on her face told me that she was.

I shook my head and turned back to curling my hair.

“Lexi, I’m just looking out for your best interest,” my mother continued. “Why would you surround yourself with people that can’t do anything for you but bring you down? You see what happened to your friend Camille after hanging around with those low-class people. She got probation out of the deal. What are you going for, hard time?”

I could not believe my mother was sitting in my bedroom talking about me and my friends, and with Jasmine in the next room.

“Mother, could you please lower your voice,” I whispered. “Jasmine’s in the bathroom. She might hear you.”

“Too late,” Jasmine said walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes looked red, like she was fighting back tears.

I jumped up. “Jasmine, I’m so sorry. My moth—”

She held up her hand to cut me off. “Mrs. Lansing, I agree with you that Alexis shouldn’t be dating my brother. I even tried to tell her that. However, and I ain’t trying to be disrespectful but I’m one of
those
people. And would like to think that I am good enough to date anyone that steps to me, and so is my brother. Alexis is in no more danger being my friend than she is hanging around all those snobby girls at her private school, you know, the ones who got her caught up in their little boosting ring.”

Jasmine’s voice was cracking. I was a little shocked that she brought up the whole shoplifting fiasco that had landed us in trouble earlier this year. That was a little messed up, even for Jasmine. But I guess that meant she was really mad.

My mother really did look apologetic, but Jasmine didn’t seem to care.

“We may not have the designer clothes, or the biggest bank account, but we ain’t lacking for nothing,” Jasmine continued as she started gathering her things. “Just because your family has more money doesn’t make you any better than us.” She threw her backpack over her shoulder. “Alexis, I don’t feel like going out no more,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Where are you going?” I asked as she headed toward the door.

“Home. I saw a bus stop at the entrance to your subdivision. I’ll just catch the bus.” She headed down the stairs.

“At least let us take you home,” my mother said, running after her. “It’s getting late.”

Jasmine spun around at the top of the staircase. “No, thank you, Mrs. Lansing. The buses run until nine. Besides, we wouldn’t want you to have to take your Escalade into the ’hood.”

With that Jasmine spun off, leaving me and my mother standing in the hallway with our mouths hanging open.

W
hat are you trying to say, girl!” Jasmine snapped at Angel.

“I didn’t say you were a hoochie. I said the leggings make you look like one!” Angel shrugged. I rubbed my head. Lately it seemed like all we did was fight. Alexis and Jasmine had spent the first twenty minutes arguing about something Alexis’s mother did last night. I didn’t get all of the details. I just know when Alexis arrived to pick me up for the step show, she was in a funk, and Jasmine was nowhere to be found.

They’d finally called a truce today after Alexis apologized for the trillionth time. Now we were sitting in the church meeting room, waiting on Rachel to finish youth choir rehearsal so we could start our meeting. Shereen was coming by to tape us in what she called a “natural environment.”

“Well, I don’t know who told y’all to dress like that, anyway. When I said stylish, I didn’t mean look like you were auditioning to be on BET,” Tameka said as she adjusted herself in her chair. She had on a cute long-sleeved top and some black slacks.

I looked down at my miniskirt and baby-doll top. Jasmine had on some black leggings and an off-the-shoulder midriff top. Alexis had on a skintight T-shirt.

“You said that Rachel told you to tell us to make sure we dressed like we were going to a party, because this was a socially themed show. And you said your cousin also said that,” Alexis said.

“No.” Tameka shook her head. “I said
don’t
dress like you’re going to a party.”

“Tameka, I’m sick and tired of you and all your little sneaky ways,” Jasmine screamed. “You were the one who told us that we looked more like we were going to church than to an audition for a teen show host. Then you started talking about all the tight outfits you saw on BET when you were watching videos.”

Tameka jumped up, coming face-to-face with Jasmine. “Look, it ain’t my fault y’all don’t know nothing. I’m sitting here trying to help y’all out, and instead of being appreciative, you all trying to gang up on me. Didn’t nobody tell you to wear those tired leggings, looking like you’re in the Hoochie Mama of the Year contest,” she snapped.

I was just as mad as Jasmine. I think I was more mad for even listening to Tameka again. She looked all professional, and we looked like we were going to the club. Nobody really wanted to listen to her, but after the way the producers and the intern had raved over her, I think all of us thought she halfway knew what she was talking about.

“I’m just sick and tired of your mess,” Jasmine screamed at Tameka.

“Well, what you gon’ do about it? You make me sick, Jasmine. You act like somebody owes you something. You all need to just realize that I’m the best person for this job and let it go,” Tameka countered.

“If the best person is the one who can lie, cheat, and do whatever it takes to get the job, then I guess you are the best person for the job,” Jasmine said.

Tameka and Jasmine were at a standoff, staring each other down.

“Like it’s my fault y’all can’t handle a little friendly competition,” Tameka said, finally backing down.

“Competition is one thing, but flat-out lying and cheating to get what you want, that’s just dirty,” I tossed at her.

“Is that the only way you think you can win?” Jasmine snapped. “You’re so scared that you can’t win this fair and square that you have to stoop to scamming people.”

“Whatever, Jasmine. It’s not like you even stand a chance anyway,” Tameka responded.

Before anybody could blink, Jasmine had pushed Tameka so hard, she fell to the ground. Me and Alexis jumped up at the same time to try and grab Jasmine before she pounced on Tameka.

Before we could get Jasmine calmed down, Tameka had stood up and rushed toward Jasmine. She grabbed Jasmine’s hair, and both of them tumbled to the floor, this time Alexis going right with them.

Me and Angel had just reached down to try and break them up again when Rachel came storming into the room.

“What in the world is going on in here?” she screamed.

We quickly fell all over each other trying to get up from the floor.

“This makes no sense whatsoever!” Rachel said as she reached down to help me up. “I’m so tired of the bickering and arguing that’s going on over this stupid teen show. It’s all you guys talk about these days. And look at this foolishness. How much you wanna bet this fight has something to do with the show?” She huffed in frustration. “You all are up here acting like a bunch of hooligans, like you don’t have any home training. And all over who’s going to win this job.”

Me, Alexis, Jasmine, and Angel all lowered our heads in shame.

“Auntie Rachel, I don’t know why they don’t like me.” Tameka’s whole tone had changed. She was whining like a little girl. And where had those tears come from? She was so full of it.

“I was just trying to help them out with some advice and Jasmine all but attacked me,” Tameka quickly added.

“Save it, Tameka. I was born in the morning, but it wasn’t this morning. I know you’re not innocent in all of this.”

It was Tameka’s turn to look down at the floor. I was glad Rachel was finally letting her have it.

“And Jasmine, you know better than to put your hands on anybody! I’ve told you girls, violence doesn’t solve a single thing. I’m so ashamed of all of you! Sit down!”

We all made our way back to our seats. I knew there was no point in trying to defend myself or the girls with Rachel being as mad as she was. So I took my seat and didn’t say a word.

Rachel was right. We hadn’t said or done a thing about our community service program. Lately all we’d been concerned about was the teen show. Even Angel, who wasn’t even auditioning had gotten all wrapped up in trying to help someone win.

I knew things had gotten out of hand, but I definitely wasn’t prepared for what came out of Rachel’s mouth next.

“Y’all think I’m playing. If I hear about one more problem stemming from this teen show job, I’ll personally tell Shereen that she should open it up to one of the nearby high schools, because it’s obvious to me that you ladies can’t handle this!”

“Miss Rachel,” I protested. “You can’t do that.”

“Watch me. Any more problems, just watch me!”

Rachel was cool and all, but the look on her face said she meant business. One more problem, and all of us could forget about hosting anything.