Act Like You Know (11 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

BOOK: Act Like You Know
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At that moment, Sharon squeezed my hand. It was so weird. She and I were connecting. At that moment it dawned on me that the reason why Sharon was so compassionate about everything I was dealing with concerning my mom was because she had lost her baby at this time last year. Deep down, I got that she was still recovering from all that.
Hayden continued. “Yes, we are a chapter that has made some mistakes, and we're all paying dearly for them. Shucks, we're suspended, but we are still Alpha chapter, and there are still some roots, spirits, and strong wills from our founders that are rooted and engrained in each of us.”
“So what are we gonna do?” Torian yelled out.
“We're gonna start practicing
Robert's Rules of Order,
Torian. Let me acknowledge you,” Hayden said as she laughed.
Everyone laughed along. Torian started huffing and taking it personally. Loni playfully hit her in the arm, and she finally came around. Torian grinned and raised her hand.
Hayden said, “Yes.”
Torian stood and said, “Madam President, I'm just wondering what are we gonna do?”
Everyone clapped for our progress. We were a chapter ready to do business the right way—once we got reinstated, of course. I was proud of my sisters practicing correct procedures in the interim.
“I don't know right now,” Hayden said honestly. “I'm opening up the floor for discussion. Anyone have any ideas of some programs and things we can do to build ourselves and build our community?”
Malloy stood and, once acknowledged, said, “I think we should mentor some young girls. We know being in college is hard enough, but just remember some of the pressures of high school.” The girls all agreed. “If we reach back and let them know they can do better, we can make a meaningful difference.”
“Everybody for the idea?” Hayden asked as she saw the nods. “I think it's wonderful, too. Why don't you research it and bring information back to us. Anything else?”
I raised my hand.
Hayden recognized me. “Yes, Soror Cruz.”
I stood. “Maybe we should have study nights. I've been really inspired by my tutor.” A lot of
oohs
and
ahhs
wailed out through the room.
“We're just friends,” I said, dismissing their comments.
“Yeah, right!” Sharon yelled out. “He likes her for real.”
Out of order, Bea said, “I know he better like her for real, driving her all the way down to Mexico.”
“El Paso,” I said under my breath.
“Order, sorors,” Hayden said, getting us back on track. “Anyway, continue on, please, Soror Cruz.”
“I just thought if we came together and studied once a week, twice a week, or whatever is needed, we could make sure those of us who are strong in some areas help those of us who need it, and vice versa. I don't know.”
“Any comments on that idea?” Hayden said.
Loni replied, “I think it's wonderful. I tutor athletes. I'd love to be able to help my sorors instead of just the basketball team.”
Retaking the floor, Hayden said, “Well, I think those are two strong programs. We can help each other academically, and we can help the community by mentoring some young girls. Sorors, if we become our sisters' keeper, if we give a little bit more than what we can take, we're gonna be rewarded. Because love is truly, after all, the most worthwhile gesture.”
12
PERSUASIVE
“O
h, my gosh. We have to mentor these bad girls,” Torian said over my shoulder as we looked at eight girls with attitudes from the inner-city middle school. These girls had been recommended for our mentoring program by their counselors, teachers, or parents.
“They aren't that bad—they're just children,” Malloy retorted, being her optimistic self.
When I saw that one girl's chest was larger than mine and she was wearing a skirt way too short for her age, it looked like Torian might be right on this one.
“Well, don't just stand there, y'all,” Hayden said as she pushed us toward the girls. “Pair up, choose somebody, get to know them!”
One girl was sitting down and not trying to get a mentor at all. She was popping gum loud and she had micro-braids that hung to her midback and looked like they were five months old. Whenever somebody tried to talk to her, she dissed them in one way or another. I was just intrigued that she thought she could choose who was going to talk to her.
Boldly I went over to her and said, “So, you think you get to sit here during this time and talk to nobody?”
“Well, I know yo' yella behind don't think I'm about to talk to you,” she said in an extremely rude tone.
In my mind, I was like,
Oh, no she didn't.
But I realized she was just a child, and I could not stress myself and get down to her level.
“What you still standing there for?” she said. “And quit looking at me like that. I told my mama I didn't wanna be in this program. If I hate listening to my teachers, I'm sure not gonna listen to y'all.”
“Well, it looks like everyone is paired up. It's just me and you. So—”
“So, get to stepping. Or you could sit down there, and I'll sit right here. We don't have to say nothing to each other.”
Leaning down to her, I said, “Girl, that is not going to work. Why you tryin' to act all hard?”
“Why you trying to act all down? You ain't a sistah. Of all the people in here, you the last one I want to be my mentor. What can you tell me, with your pretty, wavy hair and yellow skin? You can't understand the issues I got.”
“Try me,” I responded, wanting to snatch that gum she was popping out of her mouth.
“Ha! Please. I didn't pass the English test. I might have to take remedial English next year in high school. You in college and everything, so I know you pass all your stuff.”
“Wrong. I may lose a scholarship because of bad grades. Next issue you don't think I understand.”
“Well, I don't have no friends. Girls are jealous of me and stuff 'cause I'm fine, I'm all developed, and guys want to get with this. You know what I'm saying? It ain't my fault they still small and I can wear my mama's clothes. They ain't got to hate on me. Somebody classy like you, you can fit in and have all kinds of friends. I know it.”
“Wrong again. Just like you judge me because I'm Hispanic, I get judged like that a lot of times. People always tend to say, ‘Aw, you got it easy because you're this and you're that.' I don't have it easy no kind of way. My relatives don't even live in America, so I'm trying to get in where I fit in. And it's not as simple as you think. I understand being on the outside. Next?”
She slid closer to me. I was breaking through some wall I knew was going to be hard for me to knock down completely. But the layers were pulling away. She was intrigued, too. Now what was going to be the third issue she'd throw my way? Could I hit a home run with her? Could I let her know we could have a connection?
I said, “All right, bring it on, girl, what's going on?”
“This one guy I like, a lot, is not giving me the time of day. You too cute to get what I'm saying. Look at your little self. Girls may not like you, but don't even try it, I know someone like you doesn't have any problem getting a man.”
Okay, she had me there. I did always have the men. However, I had to figure out a way to make her understand that though that wasn't my exact issue, I could sort of help her with hers.
“Uh-huh. I knew you couldn't relate,” she said, getting up because it was taking me a bit to respond.
“Okay, wait! Tell me your name.”
“I'm Ambrosia. What's your name?”
“I'm Alyx. And ... you're right,” I said, feeling like with this slick girl I had to come clean.
“See? Told you. I'm out of here,” Ambrosia said.
“No, no, no. You might want to stay. I can give you a few pointers to help you get that man.”
Ambrosia froze. “Oh, for real?”
“Yeah, because that is one of my strong suits.”
She started licking her lips like she was contemplating what I had to say, “Okay. You can be my mentor. Teach me how to get Brickhouse.”
“Is that like his real name, fake name, what?” I pried.
“That's his last name. Everybody calls him that. Duh,” she said, squinting her nose at me.
“Lose the attitude. Don't be so abrasive,” I told her.
“Abr—what? What's that?”
“Hard, brash, and sassy.”
“Aight,” Ambrosia said. “Tell me how I get my guy.”
“You can make him happy. You know what I'm saying? You got it going on. Get your confidence up. You'll see. He'll want to hang out with you. Just lose some of the attitude.”
“All right,” she said back.
“Write down your number. I want to speak with your mom.”
“Okay.” She did so.
Our session had ended up being pretty great. I was excited. I might be able to help this tough girl, drop her mean edge, and really help her embrace her dreams.
 
Ambrosia and I talked every day for a week. I was helping her become confident. She revealed she was scared to even approach Brickhouse regarding her affection for him. She told me he even lived two doors down, and she didn't know how she was going to make him notice her. It was actually kind of cute that she kept coming to me. And in the middle of all the boy talk, I made sure she was getting her lesson. Before we talked about the opposite sex, she had to report to me what she'd done in school that day. She seemed motivated, excited to really get on the ball and work it out. She wasn't just saying that she cared about her attitude, she was acting like it, too.
I even talked to her mom. And I was excited that her mother thought I was a good influence. Just a few weeks ago I had thought my life was empty. Then I was doing well in school myself and helping somebody else reach their full potential. I was really feeling good—till the next day when I got an alarming call.
“What do you mean you haven't seen her and you don't know where she is?” I asked Ambrosia's mother.
“We got into it. I told that girl I was listening in on her telephone calls, and I heard her talking a little too grown to that boy, Brickhouse, and I was not going to have it. She's just thirteen, trying to act like she's thirty-one,” her mom said, crying. “She speaks so highly of you. Y'all have such a good rapport. I thought you might know where she is. It's getting dark now, and I'm just worried sick. I hadn't hit her since she was probably ten, but I got on that behind tonight. She is just too sassy and too grown.”
“I understand,” I said, trying to calm her mom down. “As soon as my roommate gets in, I'll get a ride over there.”
“Thank you, girl, thank you. Y'all Betas are a blessing.”
An hour later, Malloy and I were searching around Ambrosia's school and neighborhood trying to find her. It was ten o'clock—really late. Six hours since Ambrosia had left her mom's sight.
“If anything happens to her, I don't know what I'm going to do,” I said to Malloy.
Malloy said, “Well, you're not going to blame yourself.”
“Yeah, but I taught her to be strong and to get confident. Maybe she thought I meant she was supposed to stand up to her own mom. I was talking about the other girls who give her a hard time in school. I wasn't talking about her mom!”
“She's thirteen, not three. My mom and I have not always had the best relationship, so trust me when I say she is going to cool off and come back home. Do you have any idea where you think she might be?” Malloy asked.
“You know what? She talked about her dream guy living a couple doors down the street. Maybe he's seen her.”
“You mean her mom didn't even know where he lives?” Malloy said.
“I don't know. And even if she went to the door, he might not have opened it. And I don't want to ask her mom, because she may go down there and really cut the fool. And if Ambrosia's not there, I don't want to give her hope. Let's just try to find his place.”
“All right, all right, yeah,” Malloy said, being the helpful friend I knew her to be.
Ambrosia's house was on the corner, so there was only one direction from which you could count two down. When I walked around the back, I was shocked to see a back window open. Malloy was in the car because Kade had called. It was good she could have her moment.
What my eyes witnessed next, I would have been too embarrassed for anyone else to see. I was so caught off guard I couldn't even stop the moment. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “No!” before things went any further.
Ambrosia turned and saw my disgusted look. She ran to the window.
“Get out here now!” I screamed to her, as if I had known her for years and wanted to beat her tail myself.
I was so passionate, she didn't dare say, “No, I'm not coming,” or, “Make me,” or give me any lip. She said good-bye to him and was outside with me within seconds. What in the world made her think I was for that idiotic tactic?
“What in the world were you doing, Ambrosia?” I asked her as I grabbed her by her shirt collar. “Did you think that boy would like you after giving him some?”
“Well, you said that I was supposed to let him know I could please him... .”
I popped her upside her dumb head. “Fool, I didn't mean that kinda way! Don't you know when boys get stuff that easy the next day you'll be the talk of the school? The laughing stock! He will never, ever give you the kind of respect you want with this kind of back-door sneaking.”
“What other way was I supposed to please him and let him know I could be there for him and make him happy and stuff?”
“By helping him be the best young man he could be. Not by running all up in his face and giving him every doggone thing he wants. By making him play hard to get, by showing him what a chase is. So when you finally get him to give you the time of day with a ‘hello,' he will feel good about himself. He will feel good about wanting to be with you. But you just skipped all the dating; you skipped everything and got straight to it. Don't you know what they call girls like that?”
“So? It's not like I get love anywhere else. My mama hates me,” Ambrosia said.
“Your mama does not hate you, Ambrosia. She is the one who called me. She has been looking for you all night.”
“Whatever. She slapped me. She don't care, and I don't got no daddy. I'm on my own, and I'm doing my own thing. And this is what I'm gonna do. And you're wrong. She don't like me.”
Ambrosia started walking off as though she had said all she needed to say. She firmly believed what she was doing was okay. I had to come up with something good, something true, something real to make her understand that was not the way a young lady needed to carry herself. Nothing at all good could come from her losing her mind.
Oh, what was it going to be? How could I get her to see she was much more worthy then she was giving herself credit for? She was a diamond, yet she was acting like yesterday's trash that had been sitting out in the rain and picked over by wild dogs. Without words came emotion. Real tears fell.
She turned around. “You're crying for me.” I nodded. “I can't believe you are doing that. Nobody cares for me like that. What you care if I throw my life away? My own daddy ain't never claimed me. How can some girl I just met be that into what I do?”
“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Ambrosia.”
“You see a lot of yourself in me?” she questioned. “As cute as you are? As ugly as I am? I'm doing this because he won't give me no time otherwise. I know you weren't telling me to physically throw myself at him. But that was the only thing I knew to do. He got girls coming to him from every direction at school. People say I'm the ugly girl. What's the big deal if they talk about me because he goes and tells them of this little incident? I didn't deserve that treatment before, but that didn't stop them from being mean, cruel, and evil. I hate school. I hate my mama. I hate my life.”

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