Ambitious (10 page)

Marisol

Saturday.
The big day. The day of all days. It was the second round of Dance America. During this round forty people would be eliminated and ten people would remain and go on to the finals. Ultimately, the last person still standing at the end of the competition would go on to become famous—or at least, that’s what was expected. After starring in a role on the big screen, how could you not become famous?

My fingernails were gnawed down to nothing, and my knees shook a little. I chewed on a couple of TUMS, hoping to settle the rumblings going on in the pit of my stomach. I reclined in my seat and took a look at Jasmine, who was seated next to me. As she sent text messages from her cell phone, she wasn’t nearly as nervous as I was. She was cool and calm, like a rock.

“How can you be so calm?” I asked Jasmine. “Aren’t you a little bit nervous?”

“A little. But it’s not that serious.”

“It is for me,” I told her. “This is everything I could’ve
ever dreamed of, Jas. Do you realize that this could change our lives…forever?”

She looked up from her phone and smiled. “Victory is sweet. And yes, I’ve dreamed of winning. With the scholarship money, I could pay my own way to college and take some pressure off of my folks. But we can’t let our nerves get the best of us. We have to remain calm and just do our best. We have to remember everything that J.C. taught us, and go out there and nail it.”

“What college will you use the money for?” I asked. Mostly I wanted to take my mind off the competition and focus on something else.

“Julliard, of course.” She grinned. “What about you, Mari? Where are you going to college?”

“Umm. I hadn’t really thought about it much. I’m just a freshman. I have time to figure it all out.”

“I thought that everyone who attended Premiere was Julliard-bound.”

“I know it’s a good school.”

“It’s only the most prestigious performing arts college in the world. And it’s right here in the city. It’s just a train ride from Brooklyn.”

“Don’t you want to go away somewhere? Get away from everything that you know and discover the world?”

“Not really.”

“I do,” I told her. “I want to discover what life is like outside Brooklyn. I wanna go somewhere like California or somewhere abroad.”

“I want to stay right here in New York…my home…the place where I was born and bred. No place like it.”

“That’s true. But my parents drive me crazy with their strict rules. They don’t give me any room to breathe. I can’t wait until I’m an adult and able to make my own decisions.” I propped my feet up on the back of the seat in front of me. “I live for that day.”

I watched as Luz took the stage, wearing black shorts and a red cropped top. With her hair pulled into a ponytail, she shook to the music. I waited for that original move; the one thing that would send the crowd into a frenzy—the one thing that would set her apart from the rest, but there was nothing. Nothing was original about her routine. She was just shaking her booty as everyone before her had done. After she took a bow, I was shocked to know that her routine was over. Especially since she’d done so well during the first round.

“Not bad for an amateur.” Celine pushed her way toward my legs, pushing them down from the seat in front of me. “You have to bring your A game to a competition like this.”

“Diva. What’s up?” asked Jasmine.

I didn’t have the energy to endure Celine before going onstage. She’d made the top fifty, and had already performed her earth-shattering performance.

“Everything is wonderful. Just waiting for this competition to be over so that I can pack my bags for Hollywood,” she said.

“How do you know that you’re going to Hollywood?” Jasmine asked.

“Did you see my routine?” she asked—not really expecting an answer. “Your routine was okay. I liked the pop-lock thing you had going on last week. But I hope you got another bag of tricks up your sleeves today.”

As she tossed her hair to one side, I hoped she wasn’t going to stick around. She was like a snake releasing her venom on us, and we didn’t need that at the moment. She was attacking my confidence, which was probably her goal. I stood. I wanted to get as far away from Celine as possible, so I headed for the ladies’ room. I didn’t have to go, but I took a look at myself in the mirror; freshened my lip gloss. I took a deep breath and glanced at the door as it swung open.

Luz walked in. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I responded and waited for her next comment.

She said nothing more. Just stepped into one of the stalls. I stood there and waited for her to finish. We had a lot to talk about, and I was okay with discussing it right there in the girls’ bathroom. When she came out of the stall, she stepped to one of the sinks, turned on the water and washed her hands. Just as I was about to start a conversation, Catalina walked in.

“That last act really sucked,” Catalina said. “You should’ve seen their finale. It was terrible.”

“Oh, yeah?” Luz seemed uninterested.

“Yes, girlfriend.” Catalina walked over to Luz. “You
should wear your hair up…like this.” She pulled Luz’s hair up on her head.

“I don’t want to wear my hair like that. I’m cool with it being down.”

Luz was growing tired of Catalina already. I could tell. I knew Luz better than anyone, and I knew that she was at the point of barely tolerating her. She needed her to win the next round of competition, which was why she was still around. Catalina could never take my place. I knew it. Luz knew it. And soon Catalina would know it. She was on her way to being kicked to the curb, and she didn’t even realize it yet. I chuckled inside at the thought.

I pushed my bangs out of my face, took one last glance into the mirror and walked out of the restroom. Just as I stepped into the auditorium, my number was being called. I found my way to the stage. I said a little prayer before taking my place on the buffed shiny floor. My head down as I awaited the music, all fear went out the window. Confidence took over as the music resonated through the room. As I performed steps that J.C. had so graciously given me, I knew that I’d make it to the final ten. Into my hip-hop routine, I incorporated a salsa move, a bit of merengue and a snippet of bachata—all Latin dances. The crowd was hysterical.

J.C. met me backstage, just as she’d done before. She hugged me.

“That was phenomenal!” she exclaimed.

“You think so?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “Yours and Jasmine’s acts were the best all day!”

She was right. The judges said the exact same thing—ours were the most original and the best of all fifty acts. It felt good hearing them say that, but it felt even better at the end of the competition when they announced the winners. Jasmine and I were both through to the next round. I was beside myself with excitement when they called us to the stage to stand next to the other eight people who’d made it. It was as if I was having an out-of-body experience.

I watched as Luz and Catalina watched from the seats below. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been chosen to move forward. My heart went out to Luz. I knew that she’d given her all, and I hated to see my friend lose. Even though we weren’t speaking, I still cared about her. I didn’t want to see her hurt.

As Celine ran her fingers through her hair, I wanted to stick my tongue out and give her the middle finger. She had already expressed her anger toward the judges and demanded a rematch, but to no avail. The judges had made their selections, and she wasn’t included. She was angry. When she looked my way, I smiled. And as we exited the auditorium, I brushed against her.

“Next time you should bring your A game,” I told her and grinned.

She snarled and rolled her eyes; walked on.

Life was good.

My parents weren’t quite ready for the news of my advancing in the competition. They never expected me to make it as far as I had, so finding the right words was tough for them.

“I’m glad for you, Mari,” Poppy said sincerely.

“And what exactly does this mean?” Mami asked.

“It means that Jasmine and I are in the top ten. If we make it to the top five, we get to go to Hollywood and compete for a dance role in a real live movie.”

“Seriously, Mari?” asked my brother, Nico. “Are they going to cover your face up so you don’t break the camera if you win?”

“Shut up, stupid.” I frowned.

“Nico, leave your sister alone,” Poppy said.

“So how long will this Hollywood thing last? How long will you be gone? And how will you travel there? And will you need our permission? And what type of movie is this anyway?” Mami asked too many questions. I wondered if she had plans of raining on my parade.

“I haven’t won yet, Mami. Can we talk about it after I win?” I asked.

She didn’t really answer. Instead she had a worried look on her face as she walked away; headed for the kitchen. Allowing me to attend Premiere was one thing, but now this. Dance America wasn’t quite in the plans before now, and she was worried.

“Mari, I don’t know about you going clear across the
country like that. California is a long way from here,” she finally said. “What about school?”

“It’s only a few days, Mami. And the school arranges for you to complete your assignments…so I won’t really miss anything. Also, the competition pays for everything.”

“What happened with Luz?” Nico asked. “I heard that she and Catalina made it through last week.”

“She was eliminated today,” I told him.

“Luz was eliminated?” Mom asked. “I thought the two of you were dancing together.”

“We were…”

“Luz dumped Mari for Catalina.”

“She didn’t dump me…”

“And now the two of them aren’t speaking.”

“You’re not speaking to Luz? Why?” Mami asked. “She’s been your best friend since elementary school…as long as we’ve lived in this neighborhood. Is this competition changing who you are, Mari?”

“Mami! Luz stopped speaking to me…for no reason at all. Not the other way around. It’s her who’s changing!”

“Mari,” Mami said.

“May I be excused?” I asked. I was getting frustrated and I needed a retreat. My parents didn’t understand anything. I needed to be free—to spread my wings. And it seemed that they were preventing me from flying. Why couldn’t I have parents like Jasmine’s? Parents who didn’t care what I did.

“Yes, you may be excused, sweetheart,” Poppy said.

I left the kitchen and headed for my room. Collapsing on the bed, I covered my head with my pillow. Hoped for sleep. When someone tapped on the door, I knew that I wouldn’t find peace anywhere.

“Mari,” my father whispered as he stuck his head inside my bedroom door. “May I come in?”

I nodded.

“Mari, your mother is just worried about you. I know she can be difficult at times.”

“Difficult is not the word, Poppy. You know her.”

“I’m proud of you. This is quite an accomplishment,” he said and smiled.

“You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. You should be very proud of yourself. I’ve heard a lot about this uh…this Dance United States…”

“Dance America.”

“Yes. I know that it’s a tough competition, and that this is a wonderful opportunity for you,
mi amor,
” he said, “and we will support you.”

“Thanks for your support, Poppy. But I know that Mami doesn’t feel the same way.”

“She’ll come around. Just give her time,” Poppy explained. “And this thing with you and Luz…it will work itself out.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Poppy grabbed my nose in between his two fingers then
kissed my forehead. He always knew how to make me feel better. Even if I didn’t win the competition, it was nice knowing that I had his support.

Drew

I straddled
my seat backward at Manny’s; joined the rest of the gang that was already engaged in a conversation about the dance competition. Dance America had become the biggest conversation piece ever. That’s all everyone talked about these days. Everyone had their opinions about who had won, who should’ve won and who had made it by the skin of their teeth. They talked about which contestants should’ve been eliminated, and which ones should’ve been given a second chance.

“I don’t know if I should sit here…you know, amongst royalty and all,” I teased Mari and Jasmine. “Pretty soon they won’t even know us, Preston.”

“I know. Once they get to Hollywood, we’ll be a distant memory,” Preston agreed.

“We’ll have to make an appointment just to hang out with them,” I added. “And forget about pizza at Manny’s anymore. This place will be below their standards.”

“The two of you need to stop!” Jasmine said with a laugh. “It’s not even like that.”

“I’d better take a picture with my camera phone—
a before-fame
photo.” I snapped a photo of Mari and Jasmine with my phone.

“Yeah, let me get one, too.” Preston pulled his iPhone out of the pocket of his jeans; snapped a picture of them also. Showed it to me.

“Hmm. That’s a good one.” I grabbed Preston’s iPhone; showed Mari and Jasmine their photo.

“We owe our dance instructor all the credit. She taught us everything we know,” Mari said.

“Well, I didn’t see J.C. out there shaking her booty. It was you guys out there doing all the work,” I said, “and I’m proud of you. You both deserve to win this competition.”

“Okay, what’s the punch line?” Mari asked before stuffing the last bite of her pizza into her mouth.

“No punch line. I’m serious,” I explained.

I was serious. They had been the best dancers in the entire competition. I didn’t realize that Mari could move like that. The more I watched her dance, the more attractive she became to me—and she didn’t even know it. I wondered if she knew that I thought she was beautiful and cool. I watched as she laughed about something funny that Preston said. As she brushed a piece of hair from her face, I stared. And then caught myself; looked away. Didn’t want her to catch me looking.

I stepped into our apartment; locked the door behind me. Dropped my backpack at the door and took a step across the hardwood floor.

“Pick it up!” a voice rang out in the apartment. “And take those sneakers off!”

The smell of laundry detergent mixed with the smell of fried chicken filled the place. And just as I started to untie the shoestrings on my sneakers, Gram popped her head into the entryway. With her salt-and-pepper hair and beautiful skin, she smiled.

“Hi, Gram.” I grinned from ear to ear. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

It was always nice when Gram showed up. She always seemed to get us organized and to whip us into shape. And she always made the best meals—fried chicken or smothered pork chops. She usually left us with three or four casseroles that would last for a week or so, fresh white socks and clean underwear. Our linens would smell like Bounce dryer sheets, and she would even clean in between the cracks and crevices of the bathroom tiles and bathtub—getting rid of all the soap scum.

“Come here and give me a hug, boy,” she said. I hugged my grandmother, and she returned the hug with a tight squeeze and a kiss on my forehead. She grabbed my face into her hands. “Look at you. So handsome.”

“Something smells good!” I exclaimed and went straight for the stove to see what it was. I lifted the aluminum foil that was wrapped around the plate of fried chicken. I peeked inside the oven only to find a pan of macaroni and cheese with the cheese bubbling over the sides.

“I made your favorite dessert,” she boasted.

“You didn’t…” I turned to see her face; wanted to see if she was serious.

“Sweet potato pie.”

“Gram, you are the bomb!” I said.

“Now go get cleaned up, son. Your father will be here soon, and I want the three of us to sit down and have dinner together.”

“My dad will be here soon? Have you talked to him?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t talked to him. But doesn’t he get in from work around five or six?”

“Not usually, Gram. Sometimes he doesn’t get in until around ten or eleven…sometimes later.”

“Are you kidding me?” She looked mortified. “That won’t work. It just won’t work. That’s unacceptable! When do the two of you spend time together?”

“Hmm…sometimes I’m still awake when he gets in, and he’ll stick his head in and say goodnight. And sometimes we watch
SportsCenter
together.”

“SportsCenter.”
She said it with such disappointment. “I don’t like that, Drew. I don’t like that one bit! He needs to spend quality time with you. He’s your father, and he’s no better than your mother if you never get to see him.”

“It’s really not that serious, Gram. I’m not a little kid anymore, so I don’t really require that much supervision.”

“I didn’t say you needed supervision. I said you need quality time!” she said. “I’m going to have a word with
him when he gets in. Now go get cleaned up. You and I will have dinner together.”

It wasn’t a good time to tell my grandmother that I wasn’t hungry. That I usually grabbed a slice or two of pizza every day at Manny’s before making it home from school. I didn’t want her to think that she’d fried chicken for nothing, so I left the kitchen; rushed upstairs and changed into a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt. I washed my face and hands. By the time I returned, Gram had set the table for two.

I rubbed my palms together. “It looks good. Can’t wait to dig in.”

I took a seat across from Gram. She said a prayer over the food and then fixed my plate.

“So what’s going on with you, Drew? You like that new school?”

“I love it, Gram,” I told her. “And guess what…I landed a role in a play already.”

“No kidding. You were always so good at that…acting and pretending.” She giggled. I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.

“Dad’s not feeling my new gig, though,” I said; forgot who I was talking to.

“Speak English to me, boy. I don’t know all that slang.”

“He’s not happy with me going to a performing arts school. He wants me to play basketball. He thinks that acting is for sissies.”

“Oh, he does, does he?” she said matter-of-factly. “He
must’ve forgotten that he was an actor himself back in the day.”

“My dad was an actor?”

“And a wannabe musician,” she said with a laugh. “He begged us to let him take acting classes. And so we did. But that only lasted a hot minute. Then he wanted to play the guitar. And we got him guitar lessons.”

“Are you serious?” I was shocked. “My dad played the guitar?”

“He never told you?” she asked. “Skeeter was actually pretty good at it.”

Skeeter was my dad’s nickname. To have such a manly name like
Derrick Bishop,
and then to be called Skeeter instead—that had to be rough. When he was younger, he was so skinny—puny is what my grandmother called him—they compared him to a mosquito. Hence, Skeeter was born. I was glad I didn’t have any whack nicknames like that.

“Nah, he never told me that, Gram. In fact, he was so mad when I told him that I wanted to audition for Premiere High. And he pretty much stopped talking to me when I got in.”

“Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve got into Skeeter’s behind!”

Sometimes my grandmother forgot that my dad was a grown man and was too old to be scolded like a child. She claimed that he was never too old for her to whip his behind. And if I got out of line, she would whip mine, too. And up until about three years ago, she stood true to her
word. She had given me plenty of whippings. She wasn’t afraid to get a belt when one was needed. Soon I was too tall for her to handle. I’d stand there with my arms folded across my chest, refusing to cry with every swat. That only made her madder, and pretty soon she just stopped trying.

“I think he’ll come around. He just needs time to let things marinate,” I told her. “You should come to my performance next month, Gram…sit in the front row and be in my cheering section.”

“I sure will, sweetie. You just let me know when the date is, and I’ll be right there. Yes, I will.”

“I love you, Gram. You take such good care of us.”

“It’s my job, baby.”

It was true. She took great care of us. Without her, we’d fall apart, Dad and I. I would never have any clean underwear, and I wouldn’t know what a good meal was. Beanies and weenies was not it. She gave us structure. She said that we gave her structure. After Granddad died of cancer, she said she needed someone to take care of—something to do that was worthwhile. Otherwise she’d crawl into a hole and die. Dad and I had a good life. It wasn’t perfect, but it was healthy. But I was glad for Gram. She gave us the things that we were missing.

“Now, what about girls? The last time we talked, you were seeing some little girl…Brittany or Bridgette.”

“Brianna.”

“Yes, that’s it. Are you still stringing her along?”

My grandmother was so straightforward. She never beat
around the bush, she just said it. Whatever was on her mind, she said it. I loved that about her. I respected that, because you never had to guess where you stood with her.

“I wasn’t stringing her along, Gram. I just wasn’t ready for a relationship like she was.”

“Well, you should’ve just been up front with her. Let her know that you’re still sowing your oats and you had no intention of settling down.”

“Sowing my oats, Gram? Come on.”

“Okay, what do you youngsters call it now? Getting busy…getting jiggy with it?

“You been watching
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
again?” I asked with a laugh. “I just wanted to kick it with some other people for a while.”

“Kick it! So, that’s the new phrase. Thanks for keeping me up on the slang,” she said with a giggle. “One of these days, Drew, some girl is going to come along…and she’s gonna knock you off your feet. You won’t know what hit you.”

“I think she’s already come along.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Her name is Marisol Garcia. Mari for short.”

“She’s Hispanic.”

“Yes. Very beautiful. Funny. Smart…”

“But…”

“But we’re just good friends, and I like kicking it with her. We hang out, like buddies. Don’t wanna mess that up.
But when I’m around her, I feel all these things and I don’t know what to do about it. It’s, like…confusing…”

“Why don’t you just ask her out? I mean on a real date…and not just hang out. That way you can determine which you like better…hanging out or dating.”

“I came pretty close to asking her to the fall social. It’s this dance…a formal dance at school…sort of like homecoming at other schools.”

“And? What happened?”

“I couldn’t do it. I lost my nerve, and instead asked her if she would tutor me in algebra,” I said. “Besides, I’m not even sure that I want to show up at a dance with a girl. I mean, the other girls will get the wrong idea. They might think I’m in an exclusive relationship or something, and I don’t want that. I just wanna kick it for now.”

She laughed heartily, as if I’d just told the funniest joke ever. I didn’t understand the laughter; just patiently waited for her to get herself together.

“You really like her. I can tell,” she finally said. “But I have to tell you, son…somebody else is gonna scoop her up right out from under you…while you’re busy…
kicking it.
Don’t wait too long to tell her how you feel.”

“It’s not that serious, Gram. It’s just Mari. She’s cool.”

“Okay, sweetness. But remember that old saying, ‘he who snoozes, loses,’” she said and grabbed another piece of fried chicken; set it on her plate. “Now, how about a game of poker after dinner?”

“What you want? You want some of this?” I asked my grandmother.

“I can’t wait to spank your little behind, boy. Show you who is boss!” she boasted.

I ate quickly. A game of poker with my grandmother was like nothing else. It was the ultimate challenge. I got a rush just thinking about it. She definitely knew a lot about the game, and I’d been trying to beat her since I was five years old. One of my purposes in life was to beat Gram at one game of poker. I didn’t know if it would ever happen, but it sure was fun trying.

“I’ll get the cards.”